[TENT CITY]
By the end of the second week, most of the restoration work was done. The city's authorities had pulled off a miracle and somehow finished their construction job on time.
I was pleasantly surprised. In all my life, I'd never seen anything in construction ever be finished on time.
"Well, they did use magic to do it, but still." I drummed my fingers on a wooden table as I stared at the final touches being made to the city's roads.
A squad of magicians and magical constructs were carefully laying out a uniform film of gravel, sand and tar. My jaw had nearly dropped when I'd first seen them telekinetically reconstruct the roads.
It just wasn't easy to accept that magic was a thing now.
I stood back up and walked to the edge of the camp track with my hands on my hips, breath fogging in front of my face. The ward pylons hummed softly along the perimeter. Somewhere behind me, the first soup vats began to steam under their tarps.
My boots hit the pallet-lined ground in a steady rhythm. Past the soup line. Past the med tents. Past the fence where drones watched the ruined blocks beyond. The camp blurred into familiar landmarks.
I knew every bend now. Every loose plank. Every spot where the wind tried to sneak through.
That scared me a little.
Familiarity was comfort, and comfort was how you got complacent. Complacency was not something I wanted.
So I kept pushing.
Lap one was breathing and cadence. Lap two was pain management. Lap three was the part where my mind tried to wander, and I dragged it back like a dog on a leash.
When I stopped, my chest heaved. My legs burned. Sweat cooled under my shirt the moment I slowed down, and the cold tried to take advantage.
Insight rose, unprompted.
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[Skill Updated]
ENDURANCE: Rank F ---> RANK E
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'Two Weeks'
It had taken me two weeks to raise my [ENDURANCE] from F to E. That didn't seem like a lot of time, but I knew something most didn't.
Skills and stats in Advent didn't rise linearly. In other words, the higher the rank, the harder it was to reach. Going from E to D would likely take me more than a month, maybe even two. It all depended on how fast I could train effectively.
I walked until my breathing settled, then did push-ups on the cold ground until my arms shook, then squats until my thighs screamed.
When I stood up again, my vision swam for a second.
I blinked hard and forced it to clear.
"Not passing out," I told myself. "Not today."
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[CONDITION]
OVERALL: 76%
MUSCLE FATIGUE: MAX
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Seeing my fatigue hit the top, I finally stopped and turned to head towards the water coolers.
By the time the camp properly woke, I'd already done my work, eaten soup, and carried two crates of bandages for the medics.
It was hard to believe that in a week, this place wouldn't exist. Tent city was temporary by design, but now? It felt a little like home to me. However, the moment the city finished reconstructing, everyone here would go back to their lives.
Well. Everyone, except me. I still had no idea where I'd go. But for now, I wasn't that concerned. I had bigger loaves to bake.
Quite literally.
The bell above the door chimed weakly. Warm air hit my face, and the smell of yeast and heat and flour settled my brain in a way nothing else did.
Marin looked up from the counter and immediately frowned.
"You are late. Again."
"I came as soon as I could." I immediately sighed.
He squinted at me. "It is bad enough you put your filthy hands on my dough. Come earlier next time."
I shook my head and walked over to the sink to wash my hands.
When I turned back, Marin had already shoved a piece of bread into my hand. Not half a loaf this time. Something denser, darker, with seeds.
"Eat," he said.
I hesitated. "I'll work for it."
"You already do." He grunted. "Eat before you pass out and make me carry you. I am old."
I ate.
The bread was warm. It tasted like something real. My stomach unclenched.
For a moment, the tent city and the sirens and the pylons felt far away.
Then I remembered why I'd come.
"I'll need a place to stay," I said, "They're gonna pick up the tents in a week."
Marin didn't stop working. He didn't look up. He just kept shaping dough with steady hands.
"A place?" he said.
"Yes."
"Mm." He grunted, akin to just an acknowledgement.
A moment later, Marin's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Stay here," he said. His tone changed just enough to matter. "I've got a room in the basement. It's small."
"Good enough for me."
He studied me for a long second. "I'm expecting you to start work earlier, too," he said. "Learn to make some better bread too."
"Thought I baked a good one last time?" I shrugged.
"Just so-so," Marin mumbled.
I quickly grabbed a crate of tomatoes and got to work.
Insight rose like a pressure behind my eyes.
[SKILLS]
ENDURANCE: RANK E
KNIFE WORK: RANK E
Marin stared at my hands moving and hummed.
"You're better with the knife now?"
"Just so-so."
Marin grunted and went back to kneading, as if that answered everything.
"What about your band?" Marin sorted out the dough onto the counter.
"They said the city will issue me a new one." I passed him a plate of diced tomatoes that he promptly dumped into a large pot.
"Good. Don't slack on getting one." Marin turned on the stove under the pot and began stewing the tomatoes.
As I finished my work, I shifted towards the dough and began shaping new loaves. At this point, I'd picked up on a trick or two for shaping the dough, though I had yet to master the baking process.
The two of us laboured for an hour, maybe more. By the end, the bakery's shelves were full of freshly baked loaves, and even a pot of hot tomato soup to pair them with. With the job done, I undid the apron and hung it behind the counter.
I dusted the flour off my hands and gave them a quick rinse.
"Is there a library nearby?"
Marin shot me a glance. I was half prepared for the old man to quip another joke, but this time he just hummed.
"Library? This is a backwater city; there hasn't been one here for eighty years." Marin rubbed his chin. "What are you looking for?"
"Figured I need to study up. There's a lot I don't know, or maybe just don't remember." A sigh escaped my lips as I began thinking of a new way to gather some info.
I could ask people, but there was a limit to what they might remember. I didn't have any money to hire a tutor of some kind either. Besides, the real problem was that I didn't even know what I didn't know.
I was thrown into this world, and before I could find some sense of balance, I was caught up in a demon attack, chucked into an aid camp. Not knowing what to do next, I had immediately turned to raising my skillsets and slowly working on my stats.
But now that I'd secured a place to live and had the academy as a goal in mind, I needed to plan. There was a lot I knew about Advent's story, but I didn't know a thing about this world. A library of some kind would definitely help bridge that gap.
"Aaah...." I sighed again and rubbed my eyes in defeat.
"Hmph. I don't know much myself. But my grandson collected a few books during his time here. They're all probably still rotting in his room."
Marin fiddled with a small drawer underneath the counter and fished out a rusted copper key. "Check them yourself."
I raised my head and quickly pocketed the key, "Thanks." I paused.
"If you don't mind, could I move in sooner?"
"Suit yourself." Marin crossed his arms and shrugged.
I excitedly waltzed towards the door and put out the "OPEN" sign outside as I left. Then I ran back towards the camp. There wasn't much I'd gathered over the last few weeks, but it was still worth not leaving behind.
"Hmmm..." My eyes narrowed as I contemplated.
"This... or..this?" I picked up two identical pairs of socks and eyed them with great focus. "Better play it safe."
I quickly put both in a duffel bag and continued sorting. Next were a couple of pairs of gloves, a jacket, and two sets of shoes. I quickly decided not to bother and just put all the clothes in the bag.
For the shoes, one of the pairs was thoroughly worn out. The other was still fine. But I decided to keep both anyway. I didn't really have others, and even though they were worn out, I couldn't claim that they were entirely useless.
The last things left in my tent were a couple of utensils, a cup, and a small, dented bowl. I couldn't really drag those around with me, so the next best thing was to pass them on to the volunteers in the camp's kitchen; they'd probably know what to do with them better than I.
Once I'd sorted my things out, I put the duffel bag around my shoulders and lightly jogged to the centre of the camp. Many people immediately bombarded me with questions. I was surprised they cared, but I didn't want to drag them into my problems.
At best, I told them I was moving in with a relative nearby. That they'd probably find me in the bakery. We all shared a laugh, and I even offered to treat them to some of my bread.
To which they promptly and politely refused.
"Guess I need to really work on that, huh?" I clicked my tongue.
With my farewells over with, I jogged back to the bakery, deftly slid through the door. Marin was dealing with customers, so I took that chance to rush down to the basement.
As I jet down the stairs, a small wooden door with a bronze padlock was in front of me.
I took out the key and swiftly turned it. With a quick pull, I took the padlock off and gently pushed the door open.
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