"Oi! You fuckin' bitches pop that crate open right now!"

A stern female voice was what finally woke Clay up with its cheerful jeers. He was staring at the inside of a wooden box, and surrounded by dampness. His clothes were drenched and torn dreadfully around where he had his latest impaling. At least the sword wasn't embedded in him this time. The weapon he'd been left with the first time was in the box with him, sitting at his side in its sheathe.

Thud. Thud. Thud. The sound of several men heaving heavily and smacking something against the box rang out even as it jostled him around inside.

"Use it like a damn crowbar what the hell are you doing, trying to bash it open? Give me that."

Thud. Creaaak. Crack! The light flooded down into the crate, Clay blinked rapidly several times. Above him was the same woman he remembered stabbing him the first time, staring down at him with a smile on her face.

"Oh its fuckin' this kid again! What're you doin' at the bottom of a river. Oh! There's my grandpappy's sword! How the hell are ya still alive mate? I thought I skewered ya pretty good."

"I can understand you?"

"Of course you can understand me, you speak fuckin' Elian don't you?" While laughing, she grabbed his wrist before he could react. She scanned down the thing with wide eyes while mumbling what she was reading.

"Wait, what the fuck is this shit. No health on ya? A hero? You don't even speak Elian? What in the name of the gods, you are cursed with some shitty stats. I understand now looking' at your titles, but I've seen newborns with higher Intelligence than this."

Newborns had higher stats. It seemed his situation was worse than he was lead to believe.

"You gonna keep sitting in that crate or you gonna get out now?"

Clay braced himself against the sides of the crate, and stood up slowly. He still felt lightheaded, having lost a lot of blood to the latest donut hole.

"Are you a damn joke lad? I can see straight through you." She was literally pointing and laughing at him, visibly pulling herself away from poking a finger into the twisted hole like a one man comedy act.

"Why am I here? Why did you attack me before? Where are we? Where's Erwin and Katrina?"

"Slow down there, you're asking questions faster than a startled tonguesnout. Let me see, You got stabbed, sealed in a crate, thrown in a river, and then covered with mud. Why do you think you are here? We pulled your ass out of there right after the buggers checked the second time."

"Why was I betrayed?"

"Betrayed?! From Erwin, you were never betrayed. The bastard might not look it, but he takes his role very seriously. A hero is a prime target to gather enough strength to boot him out of his position, so he called you over, and beat you over the head like the damn fool you are. Truly you are a naive fool."

Clay made a mental note to check what he had gotten after he finished this conversation.

"Why did you attack me when we first met, and rescue me now?"

"Why did I attack the man who shouted gibberish and tried to run when I asked him if he was sent by the troglodyte of Seltmark? Because you were goddamn suspicious."

"If I couldn't speak the language, how could I have been working with Erwin? You acted without even getting to know the situation. You could have actually killed-"

"Kid. This isn't your place to say." Her voice had lost the cheery quality to it, falling to a somber monotone.

Clay decided to change the topic.

"How do you know so much about Erwin?"

"What the hell else am I gonna waste all my time and energy on? We ain't got nothin' in the way of contraceptives here. Plotting revenge is all I got."

"So did you make the teleportation trap?"

"Teleportation trap?"

"The one that caught me from being summoned here in the first place. It also caught us teleporting to Velona."

"Normal people don't have access to magical stuff."

"Really? It just seemed like a bunch of carved rocks to me. Couldn't you make those easily?"

"Let me guess, he fuckin' bamboozled you and set you down where you popped up last week, stabbed a rock or some shit, and told you it was dangerous as hell? He probably had the area scouted a dozen times and set those there himself."

"He said he slightly damaged the carved stones so that the-"

"What the hell's a rock gonna do on it's own? The carvings or drawings in a normal circle is just a guideline for you to draw your mana over. Most people just don't have enough mana to figure out how to use it. It's dangerous to overcast. Whatever, I could sit here all day answering your questions and we wouldn't be any closer to getting you out of those rags. Let's get you some clothes and some food for your belly."

"Why do you seem so accepting of me? How do you know you can trust me now?"

"Well I doubt I can kill you. I might be able to chop you up and keep you from going anywhere, but that's just unnecessary. Besides, a hero is a herald of the gods' will. Let me show you something."

She pulled off the leather vambrace that was around her wrist, and carefully showed Clay the top line.

"What? If you are the baron of Velona, then..."

Clay couldn't visibly react anymore to the surprises from the conversation. He opted for a more blank expression as well as an exaggerated tone.

"The ball was appointed by Seltmark. This camp out in the woods is the real Velona. That's what the gods think anyways."

All around Clay was a small world that he didn't notice at first. Small wooden shacks were set up, and larger foundations were beginning to be pounded out. Gardens stretched out in all directions from the two dozen or so buildings. A variety of people, men, women, and children, moved about in their daily life. The sound of a river was heard not far away. The trees themselves were part of the structures, interconnecting nature and construction.

"What is all this? Why are you all out here? I thought you were bandits. There's women and children here."

"Bandits? We don't steal shit from anyone. The only one that deserves to get their teeth kicked in is Seltmark."

"But I saw you attacking the merchants on my way to Seltmark. Weren't you taking all their things?"

"I was searching for a certain person, she's probably the one who brought you to Selty, my sister, Katrina."

"What?!"

"She's a good girl, just got a short straw in life. I haven't properly seen her since she was about this tall." Erica held her hand down to her stomach's height.

"Not that that's much lower than how tall she is now. I hear she is a runt compared to her big sister." She triumphantly smacked her chest with her fist.

"She, she was kind to me."

"I bet she was. She's a small softy. She can't help but see the best in people. I really wish she'd leave the scumbag though. She doesn't even plan on marrying him, yet she gives him her entire life. It's sickening. I just want her to be happy, not forced to work for his ambitions. She doesn't really have a choice now though. I'm sorry, I'm getting distracted and going on and on about sad things you don't want to hear."

"No, it's no problem. I just can't comprehend what's going on right now. I don't want to end up like this again."

"The secret to not being a true fool is to learn from your mistakes. You shouldn't have blindly trusted Selty."

"Then, can you teach me?"

"I figured a man like you would ask for training. It's the fastest way for you to improve."

"I need to train my mind before I train my body. There's no point being able to defend myself physically if I can just be taken advantage of."

"Unfortunately you'll have to learn on your own. The only thing I'm really good for is fightin'. Now what I can do, is bring you to get some experience points. No use trying to train up your stats at level 1 when you got some pretty good words on your sleeve."

"What?"

"You gain skill points when you level up. Were you under the impression that everyone just slowly trained up their strength by doing a hundred thousand squats like some crazy northerner? We mostly rely on levels and titles for our bonuses."

"Titles give bonuses?"

"What do you mean 'Titles give bonuses?' Of course they give bonuses, what else is the point of having them? I guess there are still a few things even I can teach you. Follow me."

"Already?"

Clay finally stepped out of the crate, careful stepping over the sides. His wet, torn clothing was sloshing around, scratching heavily against his damp skin. She was wandering off towards a tall wooden gate, with plank walls seeming to extend around the entire encampment.

"Yeah, you think Early Selty is gonna sit around laughing to himself when he just threw a hero into a river? The church in the capital is gonna be up his ass about where you went, so he's gonna keep making sure you can't talk. In the next few days, I expect a fight. So I'm gonna train you the same way I was."

"How was that?"

Erica proceded to grab him, and lift him over her shoulder. She carried the dumbfounded Clay, opened the gate with one hand, and plopped him down outside.

"Don't come back 'til you're level two. Go kill some horned hares or something."

"How am I supposed to hunt anything?"

A bow and quiver full of arrows were on the ground next to him, already prepared for this. He had felt a sort of tough affection, as though she wanted to help him, but wouldn't give him the slightest comfort if it could help him grow.

He checked his titles while sitting on the floor.

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It was well into the night, and Clay hadn't found anything to fight. Strange noises from the forest continued to taunt him, telling him that living things were moving around, yet he'd never see hide nor hair of them. Something Erica had said kept racing through his mind, teasing him with the hope of a small advantage.

He finally spotted one. A hare had just darted inside of a bush, and he caught the slightest glimpse of it. He could now see it clearly through the leaves, despite it being at least a hundred feet away and in the shadows of the moonlight. Titles gave benefits, they weren't just an announcement of your experiences.

With a bit of focus the Status on his arm shifted around, finally settling into a single line.

The hare was staring back at him waiting for him to make a move. Clay pulled back the bow in his hands, aiming towards where he saw the beady reflection of its eye.

Twang!

He missed by a large margin. the arrow pathetically bounced off of a tree only a dozen feet away. The rabbit, however, ran forward heroically. It was a stretch to call it a simple rabbit or hare however, because on top of its head were a small pair of antlers. Clay made note that it was indeed a mythical jackalope, just as the children's book had shown. Meanwhile, the jackalope was leaping towards him at full speed.

Clay stumbled backwards, scrambling for his sword. He fell down, but finally managed to get his hand on the hilt. The jackalope bounded with a final leap, its antlers were aimed for his face. He barely managed to free the blade from the sheathe, and smacked the jackalope right between the antlers with the pommel while trying to perform an overhead slash. The small ball of fur fell to the ground, motionless.

Clay was frazzled, his hand was bleeding profusely from where the antler had caught him when he swung wildly. He sat down for a few minutes, panting profusely. It was his first time taking a life. It was undeniably his fault that the jackalope was dead. He was the one that instigated it to defend itself. He looked down at his arm.

One measely point of experience. The jackalope's entire life amounted to one single point. Clay stared at that one line for nearly an hour before standing back up. The moon still shone brightly, and he needed to become stronger. He couldn't let Erwin get away with what he had done to him, or what he continues to do to Katrina.

He spent the rest of the night tracking down any sensations he would feel, and found eight more jackalopes running about. They were apparently nocturnal, and dug about for roots and bulbs with their antlers, in addition to using them to fight. They were unusually solitary and fiercly territorial, despite their high breeding rate. They were so territorial that Clay often wasn't the one engaging combat. Exhausted, he finally settled down next to a tree, ready to rest for the night.

Before falling into sleep. He watched his status, and tried to learn what bonuses his titles gave him. He checked back at the list.

First was his Summoned Hero title, it was the one that was presumably the one he gained first, being placed first in the list.

It was useless information for him. It possibly had some sort of effect, but it just didn't give him enough information. He moved on after cursing the useless system, skipping over Rookie Biologist.

'Why did I bother asking?'

Just as simplistic and confusing. It didn't say any information he wanted here either. The wording left open possibilities of life after death, ghosts, and whatever else, but seemed to be plain wrong. It wasn't that he had any expectations for it to actually do anything in the first place.

'Finally an effect! It's not very useful though. At least it's better than Deceased.'

'Just as expected. I can't die, and it also removed my HP because it's useless if I can't die. I literally don't have a life to lose. It's not as useful as I'd hope since I can still get chopped up and thrown in a box for eternity.'

Now understanding the full extent of his titles, he curled up against the tree trunk and fell into a deep sleep.

*******************************************************************************************

Pain.

Clay bolted awake, there was a large animal on top of him, biting into his neck. Despite his immediate attempts to throw it off, it didn't budge. It stayed firmly clamped on to him, expecting him to cease breathing soon. It was like a small lion with a large mane, except its face was covered in smooth brown scales, and its mane was made out of large scales pointing outward in all directions. In contrast, the rest of its body was covered by a sleek black fur.

Clay grabbed his sword from his side, and slashed weakly at its head. The unwieldy angle and short distance caused it to bounce off of the hard scales harmlessly. After a few more bashes, he then grabbed his quiver from the ground, pulled out an arrow, and stabbed it into the stomach of the creature. It violently began shaking its head, attempting to snap his neck, until finally it tore a chunk of flesh off. It calmed for a moment, thinking it had won the battle.

He threw it off of him, finally freed from its iron jaws. He gripped his sword, even as blood poured out of his throat. He couldn't feel it anymore from the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through him. He lunged forward, as did the beast. The sword went straight into its mouth.

He had been attacked in the morning while he was still sleeping, and by an unfamiliar creature at that. Clay fell over, trying to gasp for air between bouts of coughing up blood. He became lightheaded, and soon his vision faded to black.