Help Me Save the World

Chapter 20 : I Need Friends!

''Crush their necks. Make a rock javelin and hurl it at him. Flame wall."

Time flew by, the season changed, and I was still killing bandits.

Yep...I culled them like weeds from the roadside. In that regard, I also amassed quite the experience in real-life combat. You know, facing someone who wanted to bury you six feet under while also making your move to break their heads. Stuff like that.

As usual, it took a bit of practice, but there was nothing my good old magic word couldn't do. As long as my imagination was running strong and my mana plentiful, I could do whatever I wanted. And I was not even finished with the unfair part. Using my enhanced eyes, ears, and also the blessing of danger, I could dodge every swing, arrow, and even magic all day long.

I may sound like I was playing around, but I really took culling these swines seriously, at least in the sense that I treated everything as a part of my training. When I wanted to train my defense, I didn't attack, and only blocked.

When I wanted to train my reflex, I did nothing but dodge.

I may appear as a cold-blooded psychotic bastard, using these people as a tool for my training.

But here's my logic. This was a fucked up world; everyone knew that. And it was not my job to make it better. No, I'm here to save it. It is what it is.

I could surely say with my conscience that I found no joy in butchering people left and right. Everything that had happened was solely for my training and growth.

I needed experience in battle. The real kind where they my blessing of danger would buzz madly. And the fastest and easiest way for me to do that was through these bands of brigands.

Honestly, I never bothered to find out whether each and every bandit was guilty or not before carrying on the deathmatch. No, I didn't...

It's just...If they didn't want me to find them in the dead of night like a fuckin' bogeyman, then don't be a freaking bandit. It was just that simple.

On that note, I was currently facing a magician turned bandit, and he had quite the skill, judging by the cheers of his men. Why would someone so capable be a bandit? Who knows...

"Change his spell trajectory around me and hit him back."

A ball of sizzling flame made a huge loop, not even close to grazing the tip of my robe, and hit the man square in the chest, burrowing through the transparent membrane that protected him.

His scream rang harrow throughout the entire camp, sending shivers down the spines of those who heard it.

Having a round with the dude, I came to notice a few details regarding my current state of power. Apparently, it was nearly impossible for me to kill him directly with the word magic. When I said directly, I was talking about crushing his heart, smashing his lungs, blocking the air into his brain, things along those lines.

They could control their own mana to protect themselves and reject my power. I could do it, to be fair, but I reckon it would take a tremendous amount of time and effort, so it ain't that worth it, in my opinion. Though finding out about this information early on was a nice boon, I must say.

That's why I had the idea to use his own spell against him. To my surprise, it was far easier. The flow of mana in the spell looked way different than his body which felt like an impenetrable fortress.

Ah, that's right. I forget to mention it.

I regained yet another sealed sense. That's right. The sensation in my skin, how it felt when my body moved, cramping muscles, pain, everything. I recovered them all the moment I turned nine years old a couple of weeks back. Of course, the whole gang went nuts after they received the news.