For days—at least by Faust’s counting—he followed Chris.

  Although they fought more dogs, they didn’t encounter any more of the stronger monsters. In Faust’s eyes, it seemed as if his companion somehow avoided those he thought he couldn’t defeat.

  In any case, the deeper they went into the swamp, the harder it became to move, and the baseline strength of the dogs increased.

  By now, Faust estimated these black dogs to be at least twice or three times as strong as the ones he had fought earlier. Thankfully, Chris helped him kill them while also letting him take a few on his own. Step by step, his own skills were improving.

  Unfortunately, he hit a bottleneck in trying to copy the wind wolf’s steps. Without stronger mana or a proper technique, it was impossible to develop it on his own. He was no such genius.

  On another note, the more time they spent together, the more he could tell Chris was definitely a weird person. Not only did he have mannerisms like cleaning his blade after every kill, but Chris also kept calling him “kid” or “boy.”

  It’s annoying. He’s not even much older than me.

  Meanwhile, he found it a little amusing that Chris thought the strips of cloth around his head were enough to hide his identity. Faust had figured it out within the first minutes of meeting… though that was a special case.

  From time to time, the duo took forced breaks, and Chris used these chances to tutor Faust about mana. In only a few days, Faust’s understanding had grown from nearly nothing to a decent level.

  First, he learned that not all mana users were equal. Some found it easier to channel mana through their own bodies, fortifying their physique. Others could manipulate it externally, forming projectiles, shapes like cubes or arrows, and even more complex structures. According to Chris, they were called Augmenters and Channelers, respectively.

  Second, Chris introduced a difficult topic but didn’t fully delve into it yet: affinities. Apparently, different people had different affinities. Some could use only normal mana, like Faust, whom Chris labeled a basic user. Others were elemental mana users, or possessed unique or unorthodox affinities.

  Faust asked him what affinity he had, but Chris didn’t answer, saying it wasn’t important before changing the subject.

  Third, an inefficient attempt at teaching Faust how to actively use mana had… failed, to put it kindly. Faust was terrible at controlling mana, to the point that even Chris seemed annoyed and simply gave up with the excuse: “You’ll know how when it’s time.”

  Either he was a bad teacher, or Faust was a terrible student.

  See…?

  In any case, Chris’s views on mana clearly carried his own bias.

  He considered Augmenters redundant. Why? Because according to him, it was a weaker version of aura, and thus no true mage should use it. It was for brute warriors, not noble mages.

  Aura… I’ve heard of that somewhere. Though I don’t remember exactly where.

  At the same time, Chris seemed unusually excited to speak about Channelers.

  “Not all mana users are mages, but all mages are mana users. Among them all, Channelers are undoubtedly the best and most efficient at pretty much anything. In combat, especially, why would you go up close to an enemy if you can simply crush him from a kilometer away? It is the sure way to go. Unfortunately, most of the few who can actually use mana,” he cast a silent glare at Faust, “can’t use it like that. Truly a pity, but the Gods were just in their choices, I guess. If everyone was talented, then no one would be. Imagine if everyone was a water channeler? It would be…”

  With all the information he received, Faust finally had a small, descriptive raft to navigate the sea of his questions.

  First, he learned that he had the most basic type of mana, signified by a deep blue core. If it were a few shades lighter, it could have been water mana—and according to his temporary mentor, that would have been a huge stroke of luck.

  Unfortunately, such things were decided at birth.

  Second, the interesting information was that he was most likely an Augmenter.

  Supposedly, Augmenters usually bloomed later than Channelers, as their mana usage was much more “reserved.” For once, Faust found his ignorance useful. If he knew how strong a Channeler was compared to an Augmenter, the difference might have disheartened him. But to him, mana was still mana.

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  Average… that’s fine. It could have been worse.

  Still, by understanding more, Faust felt himself growing stronger. Not in body, but in self.

  Third, Chris explained a bit more about what Faust had experienced. His regeneration, strength, speed, and everything else were truly thanks to mana. At least that doubt was finally answered.

  Finally, some of Faust’s questions were resolved. Still, he knew he had much more work to do if he truly wanted to grow stronger and survive.

  On a completely different topic—one that had nothing to do with power, mana, or his survival—Faust thought of his uncle.

  Was he alive? Hopefully. Was he alright? It was difficult to say, but if Faust had been able to survive until now, he didn’t see why his uncle couldn’t.

  Faust didn’t understand what he felt for his uncle. On one hand, the man had neglected him for years, forcing him to steal if he didn’t want to go naked or stay hungry—forcing him to remain sick, cold in the winter, and alone most of the time.

  No, Faust did not love his uncle in the traditional sense of the word, but he respected him enough.

  I have no one besides you... Please be alive, uncle. If you are, I’m sure we will find each other again and leave this place.

  Until then, survive. Just like I’m doing.

  Please…

  …

  How long have we been walking?

  Faust wondered as they trudged through deep mud, halfway up to their waists. Moving was not only difficult but extremely tiring.

  At least there was a mildly positive side: no dogs appeared anymore. That was good.

  Yet, both Faust and Chris wore grim expressions. Just as the mud began to get deeper, they had found the carcass of a powerful creature.

  The sentiment they shared was similar: this area was dangerous, but Chris didn’t allow retreat.

  “We’re close,” he had said. “Do not turn back. Just be careful, stay close, and you’ll be fine.”

  For better or worse, Faust was a good listener.

  Sometimes, Chris would suddenly change route at abrupt angles, continuing before turning again. If one thing had been learned during their travel, it was that Chris did not make useless decisions.

  Faust could tell: every step his companion took was calculated. Monsters ahead? Blockage ahead? Anything ahead? Change route.

  It was a simple system, really, and quite efficient. Faust gave up trying to understand it fully and just accepted that it worked. How Chris did it? No idea.

  I already have too many questions…

  For a long while—a really long while—they seemed to move nearly without stopping. Until Chris suddenly halted.

  Faust wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn he saw a droplet of sweat on Chris’s face.

  What happened?

  He didn’t ask. If Chris was quiet, it must be serious.

  “We’re surrounded,” Chris said calmly. “I didn’t notice before.”

  “Surrounded?” Faust questioned, doing his best to stay controlled. “By what?”

  “No idea. Some snake-like creatures. They’re all around in the mud, inside it…” Chris glanced around briefly. “Their strength is significant, but not absurd.”

  “Can you… deal with them?” Faust followed his gaze, Iron-Beak already in hand.

  “Yes, I could,” Chris said with a cold glance. “But you need practice.”

  In this situation?! But he’s right. I need to do my part… I’ve been too dependent on his strength.

  “Practice with what?” Faust quickly retorted. “I’m not sure I can kill them with all this mud. I can’t even see them.”

  “Of course you can’t!” Chris shook his head, his tone sharp. “Feel them, boy.”

  “How?”

  Chris stayed quiet.

  Faust understood what he meant. He was on his own.

  Sweat dripped from his forehead. Faust cleared his mind of distractions and focused on the situation.

  How to “feel”?

  He could already “feel” enemies thanks to his improved senses. The mana he had gained made them even sharper.

  But senses didn’t work if enemies were invisible to the eye and soundless to the ear. Thanks to the mud, even their smell was indistinguishable from the foul swamp air. This place was a nightmare.

  Lots of theoretical knowledge resurfaced in Faust’s mind. Mana types, affinities, usages—everything he’d been taught.

  Nothing in theory seemed useful right now, except one thing.

  Chris told me I’m an Augmenter. Mana in the body.

  Body… What can I do with my body to feel them? I see the logic with channeling—mana outside means being able to sense through mana, I guess. But with it inside?

  Should I reinforce my ears or eyes? Even if that were the answer, I don’t know how to do it.

  Would letting them attack me and countering quickly work? It worked with the dogs, but if these things have poison, it would be gambling with death.

  What else… what else, come on…

  I can’t see, smell, or hear them.

  I see! Those aren’t the only senses I have—just the ones I’ve been using.

  I can still feel and taste. Taste obviously won’t help here.

  So feel them through touch.

  If they move through the mud, I should be able to feel the mud moving, right? I should.

  Mana to the legs to improve my sensitivity. That’s it!

  But...

  Faust had reached an answer, yet failed to apply it. He had the knowledge, but what use was that without practice?

  Just an empty vessel with no real application.

  “You’re dead,” Chris said calmly. “You failed.”

  Bubble of thoughts broken, Faust looked at Chris in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

  “There are no creatures. But if there were, you’d be under the mud already.” He shook his head. “Not only did you fail to act in time, you also failed to do anything at all.”

  “…”

  “Come on, let’s keep going.”

  Faust pressed his knuckles. He wasn’t sure whether his anger came from being lied to, or because Chris was right. On his own, he was still too weak.

  But without a choice, he followed Chris. Needless to say, the rest of the traversal through this lake of mud was steeped in heavy silence.