After his worrying statement, Rel said he needed to 'strategise' and scurried off into the forest.
I spent the next few hours continuing my training, but they were some of the most uncomfortable hours of my life. I felt like there was a target on my back, and that at any moment some outlandish scheme of Rel's would be revealed and it'd end up with me whimpering on the ground in agony.
It's fair to say that I was rather shocked when he returned four hours later, looking rather excited, but not in a 'I'm going to enjoy inflicting pain on you' kind of way.
"I have it!" he said, and then waited expectantly.
"Have what, oh wise and mighty squire?" I asked. Honestly, I was rather impressed with myself. Not even a drop of the sarcasm that filled my brain like an overflowing bucket managed to leak out.
"We have been thinking about this the wrong way," Rel began, taking on the pompous air of a lecturer at a prestigious university. "We have been trying to figure out what tool is best to use to help you gain strength, and we've been forgetting one important fact: you are a giant tool."
My mouth dropped open, so wide that you could park a car in the damn thing.
"Excuse me?" I asked, incredulous.
Rel hopped on the spot excitedly as he continued.
"You can use the side of your hand as the axe! It's genius! Think about it – it'll provide two benefits. First, your strength will continue to grow, and second, it'll hurt your hand so much that your durability will grow too!"
You know, despite the fact that it would undoubtedly cause me significant pain, I could not refute the little guy's logic.
"That might work," I said reluctantly.
The things we do in the name of progress…
It turns out that Rel's plan worked… kind of. It ended up being a bit of a masochistic trade-off. My strength grew. My durability grew. But my hand hurt. A lot.
That's the issue with being outrageously strong, you see. You can hit things very hard, but your body has to be able to withstand the punishment. It became something of a demented race against time. Could my durability close in on my strength quickly enough to prevent my hand from becoming a mangled mess?
The answer was yes. Just about.
Each gain in durability provided some sweet relief, and as the gap between the two stats closed, the experience became a little less traumatising. It still hurt, but it was the sort of pain you could forgive in light of the benefits it brought. It was like getting a massage from a really buff, enthusiastic masseuse – it hurt but boy did it feel oh so good.
Throughout the whole experience, I grew to appreciate one thing very much: how ridiculously sturdy the damn trees were in this place. Seriously. I swear - if I did one of my super karate chops on a tree back on Earth, the thing would be vaporized, but on these bad boys, it just left a nice little dent. The nutrients in the soil must be some potent shit.
I'd noticed one other benefit from my insane routine over the past three months: I was in pretty good shape. Long gone was the slightly skinny yet also somehow slightly fat physique that I had sculpted diligently throughout my twenties.
If I'd known it only took fourteen hours of intense physical labour a day, coupled with a diet of nutritionally dense green sludge bars, I'd have done it soon… Nah, who am I kidding? I'd have probably continued being a lazy slob.
Current strength: 32Current durability: 24
I sat back against the trunk of one of the trees I'd… relocated, and felt a satisfied smile play across my face.
Not bad, Julian boy. Not bad.
I felt a little flutter of nerves in my stomach as I opened the Leaderboard to see if my ranking had improved. I was going to have moved up to at least second… I just knew it!
Total Stat Gains:
Lokta'Inif Julian Vane Tolar Wise Claw Tog Tog Squire Rel
Hell yeah – second place. I'm such a…
WAIT! What the fuck!
Squire Rel? Fifth place?
I closed the interface and opened it again. Surely it was a mistake. Nope… there he was. Squire Rel. Fifth in stat points across all trialists.
"Rel! Get over here!" I bellowed. The little shit had some explaining to do.
Moments later, Rel burst into the clearing, skidding across the ground in an explosion of leaves and dirt. He spun on the spot, raising his front paws in a martial pose.
"Are we under attack?" he asked, his head whipping from side-to-side, eyes narrowed in what I'm assuming was meant to be an intimidating way.
"The only thing under attack is my understanding of this place," I said.
His paws dropped and he raised a questioning eyebrow.
"So, buddy," I said. "I've just opened the Leaderboard and had quite the shock."
Rel nodded as if in understanding.
"I thought this might happen," he said sadly. "Have you dropped down to fourth or fifth? I had noticed you'd been slacking a little bit the past week or two."
"No – hey, wait, what! I've not been slacking!" I said, my blood pressure rising. Then I saw his smirk. For fuck's sake. He was the most impressive windup merchant I'd ever met.
I took several deep breaths.
"No, buddy," I continued. "I opened the Leaderboard and had quite the shock when I saw whose name was in fifth place…"
I studied him for any sort of reaction. He stared back at me with an expression that strongly suggested I was an idiot.
"You!" I said. "You're in fifth place!"
A flicker of confusion crossed Rel's face. It lasted about four-tenths of a second before it was replaced by a look of smug satisfaction.
"Ahh, that sounds about right," he said.
"What do you mean, 'that sounds about right'?" I asked. It was taking all my effort not to reach over and throttle him. "You're a squi… arboreal observer who lives here! You're not even a trialist!"
"That is true," he said with an imperious swish of his tail. "But clearly this system recognises greatness when it sees it. It must have taken note of the quality of my mentoring and decided I deserved a space in the competition."
He raised a paw as if a thought had just struck him.
"That means I'll be able to see this 'Leaderboard' for myself," he said. He then went silent, other than the occasional obnoxious 'hmm' as if pondering something deep and profound.
"And would you look at this?" he asked, looking up at me with a look of such intense superiority that I felt my stomach drop. "Open your Leaderboard and look at the tab for 'Reputation and Influence'."
Oh no… Please. No.
I opened the Leaderboard with my eyes closed.
"Julian," he said. "It's important you see this."
I opened them.
Reputation and Influence:
Tog Tog Squire Rel Ahininan Jefray Taneanor
How. The. Fuck.
"What reputation or influence do you have? We live in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere!" I said.
"Isn't it obvious?" he asked.
No, Rel. It's not obvious. I took another deep breath.
"No," I said. Relax, Jules, relax. "Explain it to me please."
"Well, you're second place in the stats section, and even I will admit that's rather impressive. However, you have to ask yourself how that happened…"
"How that happened? I've been chopping trees with an axe, a knife and even my own goddamn hand for the last three months. That's how it happened!"
Rel wore an obnoxiously patient smile, the sort an adult has when they're trying to explain something to a toddler for the first time.
"Yes, you did those things," he said, enunciating each word as if I'd struggle to follow his logic. "But who influenced your approach with their genius ideas and strategies? And seeing as it's decided to enrol me as an initiate, I've clearly built a stellar reputation with the system."
I hate this place.