Chapter 98: Singe-Minded Pursuit

Arden squeezed his eyes open, looking at the broken branches of the tree he fell down from. He remembered getting blown away and feeling hellish pain and falling unconscious. Arden tried to move his limbs but found them turned into the very wrong direction.

They were facing the opposite, he could feel his vessels popped and he knew that he was not fine. Short breathed, and vessels turning weary, he could only forcibly use all of his remaining Mana to somehow retract his limbs back to normal.

After retracting them, he kept on producing electricity in his heart. As if he was a machine that needs electricity. He survives forcibly, and seeing he was fine, he crawled using his forearms into one of the trees. The tree was tall and wide, he pressed his naked tanned, mutated body on the tree.

He took a breath, meditated, and slowly sewed all the injuries he had. From the cut organs to the shattered bones, and the torn, flayed, skin he had. Last time he hardened his body, he was not ready. But with how he turned his whole body into something inanimate before reviving his heart, he was somehow able to survive.

Surviving, however, made him overused his magic crest. He could heal himself up, but beyond that, he felt like he is unable to use his transmutation magic without risking death.

He can only thank his alive, still breathing despite taking on 44 tons worth of TNT. He still could not walk, his limbs are still destroyed, and a single punch would kill him. Arden was weary. His eyes darted around in fear of anything that will try to kill him.

He was blown away from the monastery, and he could smell the fresh water in the air, he could also hear the droplets of rain falling down a stream of water. He was a near a river, and he could feel that he is somehow close to the town.

The rain was still there, he could feel the droplets touched his body. It hurt like hell, his body was still ‘burn’ and ‘flayed’. He was crumbling from the inside, and only the constant weaving of his wounds keeps him alive somehow.

His healing works on logical sequence, it goes like this: Fuel, location, and then the process. He has been replaying the sequence ever since and has been slowly recovering. It took him minutes, and only when the rain stopped that he was able to move his arms and legs.

He stood up and inspected the whole area first. He then thought how bad it was losing that map the nomad tribe gave him. Luckily, he memorized the map and could reproduce it. But first it was really cold, so he went and walks around and uses some Mana to construct a hooded tunic, breeches, pants, and a pair of sandals.

Constructing something almost made him want to die. But it was cold and he could use the clothing to hide his self. He then walks to where the river is. He saw the winding river and the Town of Dunwich. He paced towards the town with a bit of limp.

...

It took him minutes until he arrived at the gates of Dunwich. The place was still in a panic, the people were being checked. The guards were carrying terrifying faces as they inspect the people entering. They seemed to be checking out the people.

Arden wondered how many hours he slept fainted. It was still raining so it was hard to know the time. He drags himself near the guards. He acted poor, imitated the usual weak voices of the others. The guards could see he was no threat, and his limping too.

They allowed him in, and Arden didn’t tarry and went to the Inn immediately. He was familiar with the Inn Owner and his voice was recognizable so the Inn owner didn’t inspect him up close. Arden went to his room. He staggered to his bed, sat, and looked at the bag he left behind.

The bag was filled with some money and a few other things. He was cautious enough to left them behind and he could use some new tools and a dagger. He could not construct weapons and at best he could only convert his energy. He was weakened, and even so, he still plans to go to where the Witch is.

He was still in a single-minded pursuit towards that Witch. He didn’t suffer badly just so he can rest here and let the Witch go. The thing he did already happen, and now he cannot back down. He needs to continue further on the path he has chosen. For not continuing would turn all that he did to nothing but useless actions, he could not allow himself to turn what he did to nothing. He doesn’t know if he is right or wrong, what matters to him is that he will be able to succeed on the goal he wanted to achieve. It was odd really, somewhere along the line he stop caring about good or evil, he only cared what will he do and what he will do to the Witch he plans to pursue and bring to ‘justice’

That is why he rested for the moment. He kept his back pressed on the bed, squeezed his eyes closed and slowly went to sleep.

While in sleep, he dreamt of his twisted justice, his dreams were cruel, filled with self-righteousness is almost sickening to imagine that he could think such way.

Arden’s ways are twisted. It was flat, self-righteous and self-centered. The tragedy that is that he thinks he is doing the right thing, he doesn’t know what’s wrong and right for he is an imitation born and molded out of someone he could never understand.

In an attempt on imitating his foster father, he turned into a person twisted to the core. A person who derives pleasure from helping people or achieving unreasonable goals made from assumption.