Across Eternity Book 1

 

 

ACROSS

ETERNITY

BOOK 1

 

HANNIBAL

NORTH

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,

and incidents are the product

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons,

living or dead, events, locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Text Copyright © 2021 Hannibal North

Cover Art Copyright © 2023 Hannibal North

Art by Gabriel Weisz

 

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ISBN: 9798542730776

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

Prologue                              5

A Whole New Game                  10

Civilization                              33

Stamina                                     51

Medicine                              71

Succession                              88

Cooperation                              112

Forging Strength                        135

The Gauntlet                              157

The Story of Oath                  167

Epilogue                              195

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

 

 

 

A rare find, that beautiful crimson hair. It was usually the result of cheap dye and a childish personality, desperate to prove individuality by opposing normality. In this case, it was a rare gift from nature, every strand like melting rubies, when most so-called redheads possessed only a diluted orange hue. It drew the eyes of all those around her, including Noah’s.

It was after school in early autumn, the light of the setting sun illuminating her visage and reminding him why it was worth it to approach her. She was walking across the empty soccer field, her body trembling from the adrenaline of all the running she had done in her track club. For once, she was without her friends surrounding her or her boyfriend’s arm draped over her shoulders like a boa constrictor. Noah had been waiting for this chance longer than she could imagine. 

“Lindsey, hey,” he said, meeting her in the open air, free from any interruptions.

“Noah, what are you doing here?”

She asked that question, but knew the answer. What else would draw a boy to her? What other possible desire? He was going to flirt with her, possibly even ask her out. Would he be nervous? Would he be cocky? Would he play innocent and try to start with some small talk, or would he get straight to the point? Had he planned this? Ever since she transferred to his school during their Sophomore year, he had tried to get to know her, but it seemed like something always got in the way.

It was evident in her eyes that she saw through his intentions, but it didn’t dissuade him. If anything, it amused him, the paradox of human coupling that became both easier and more difficult with age. Of course, she already knew what he desired, so unless she felt the same way, her heart would be guarded, and he’d be talking to a brick wall. It was a challenge that men and women had struggled with since the dawn of time.

“I heard that you and Sean broke up. I know what that feels like, how much it hurts, and I’m sorry. If it’s not too soon, I wanted to ask if you’d like to go out with me this weekend?”

“Sorry, but since we’re graduating this year, I’m not sure I want to bother dating. After all, when summer comes, we’re all going to split up and go our separate ways.”

Though not an optimal outcome, rejection was within Noah’s expectations. He just had to convince her to give him a chance, but gently. He had to choose his words with care so that he wouldn’t come off as desperate and frustrated, but not try to ham it up by turning it into a sonnet like an out-of-touch nerd.

“Is that why you two broke up? Because you didn’t see a point in staying together? I doubt that. I think you believe in love, in giving it a chance. A lot of things will happen between now and graduation; Christmas, Valentine’s Day, the prom? That’s plenty of time to be happy, and to make up your mind about which path you plan on taking. Plans can change, things can work out. All I want is a chance.”

“Sorry, but I’m just not interested in dating, and I’m too busy anyway. Besides, I like you only as a friend.”

She crossed her arms to warm herself, but she kept them low. It was an instinctive move that Noah’s eyes didn’t miss. He gave an exasperated smile and began to laugh. “Ok, I get it. Maybe next time.”

Lindsey, wanting this conversation to be over, walked past him, but beneath his continuing laughter, she heard something, a metallic click, and it chilled her blood. She spun around and saw the knife in Noah’s hand.

“Jesus Christ, what are you doing?!” she screamed while raising her hands to shield herself.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t for you.” 

He swung up his hand and stabbed himself in the throat. The strike was so fast, but gentle, just the tip of the blade breaking his skin and severing his Jugular with pinpoint accuracy. It was a perfect, fluid movement, as if he had spent hours practicing. Blood began to spray from the small wound, and he allowed himself to fall on his back to the sound of Lindsey's scream. She rushed over and tried to stop the bleeding. Covering it with her hand only slowed the outpour, so she reached into her bag for something to use as a bandage.

“Stop, just keep your hand there,” Noah said calmly. 

The vein he had struck carried blood out of the head and sent it back to his heart, so the rest of the blood in his system would keep his brain oxygenated, for a short time, at least.

“You’re fucking crazy! I’m not going to let you die like this!”

“I’ve already died like this… more than a hundred times before.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. I know what it feels like to die, because I’ve experienced it. Reincarnation, transmigration, whatever you call it, I count lives like you count years, and every time I die, return to the time of my birth, but in a new timeline, a new reality. I’ll end up in a world where my surroundings are different, or history didn’t go the way I remember it, or events will happen in my future that I can’t predict. I’ve been born and died so many times, laughed and suffered through so many lifetimes, burdened with infinite experience.” 

“That’s just blood loss talking. Hang on!” She tried to pull out her phone, but Noah grabbed it with surprising strength.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you? Sean freaked out after you told him and that’s why you broke up.”

Her face became as pale as his. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because this isn’t the first time I’ve confessed to you, or the first time we’ve even had this conversation. Only in my past seven lifetimes have you been present, and in all seven lifetimes, I could never make you mine, no matter how much I wanted you. Something always screwed up my chances. Five of those times were because you were pregnant. You and Sean get back together by Thanksgiving, and I and everyone else watch you dance together at the prom. Each time, I kill myself to try again in my next life, with another version of you.”

His bleeding was starting to slow, his body going cold, and his mind fogging.

“Why me? Why would you keep going after me? Why am I worth killing yourself over?”

“I’m not some depressed, shortsighted teenager ending my life because I can’t live without you. I’m simply cutting my losses and starting from scratch. It’s the only way I can live anymore, following some task or game that keeps me busy, grasping at any scrap of meaning that can make me happy. Every life I’ve lived, it’s been a lie, concealing who I am, what I know, what I’ve experienced. I have to pretend to care, pretend to have a conscience, pretend to feel emotions, because after all this time, I’ve almost forgotten what they’re like.” 

He gave a self-deprecating laugh, triggering a spurt of blood. 

“Noah…”

“But when I see you, I get to experience actual longing. I have a crush, something so simple and childish, but such a wonderful feeling. Maybe I’m just a sucker for a redhead, but that’s as good a reason as any other.”

“What about your family? What about this life you’ve built? You’re just going to throw it all away?”

“I have lived for thousands of years. These past eighteen have flown by like the blink of an eye for me. I’ll simply be reborn with a new family, a new life, just I have been time and time again, caught in an eternity without meaning or relevance.

I’ve seen so many worlds, so many different realities, but none of them could make me happy. I’ve never known what it felt like to belong or feel at home. Every world felt wrong to me. This is yet another reality that I am incompatible with. All I can do is hope that the next world is one I can be happy in.”

With the last of his strength, he removed her hand from his wound so it could bleed freely. Her wrist was limp. Had he convinced her? Or had she simply realized that he had already bled too much and was beyond saving? He covered his left eye with his hand, blinded by the setting sun, while Lindsey’s shadow obscured the right side of his face. The light passed through her crimson hair like stained glass, making his blood shine beautifully.

“Don’t blame yourself for my actions. Don’t regret turning me down because you wish you could have prevented this. Don’t ever doubt what you feel and who you love. You can curse me, pity me, forget me; feel whatever you want to feel about me, about this moment, just long as it gives you peace. You don’t owe me anything, and you aren’t responsible for this. You’ve already given me so much just by being here. To see you in this light, to feel your hand, to speak these words to you, they mean more to me than you can imagine. Thank you for that. And now, my journey continues.”

The blood, at last, stopped flowing, and Noah closed his eyes and released his final breath. Then, in his mind, there was a familiar flash of light, and he felt himself being pulled across space and time to his next life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Whole New Game

 

 

 

 

 

Without even opening his eyes, Noah knew that something had gone wrong. His body was still the same size, and he could feel the weight of his limbs, the stiffness of the dried blood on his clothes, and the chill of the hard ground underneath him. This didn’t make sense. At this moment, he’d normally be experiencing his own rebirth, coming out of the womb as a newborn baby. Either he survived his suicide attempt and had been moved while unconscious, or he broke into another timeline without properly reincarnating, something which had never happened before.

His hand was still over his face, and just moving it took a tremendous amount of strength. He felt his neck and found no wound, and it seemed his blood was replenished, though he was still weak. He opened his eyes and stared up at the blue sky. It was late in the afternoon when he killed himself, but it looked to be midmorning now, and he was lying on an unpaved road in the woods.

He got to his feet and staggered, struggling to breathe. There was no strength in his limbs, and his thoughts were getting weaker by the second. This fatigue was similar to anemia, like he had grown a new muscle and it was hoarding all the oxygen in his blood. If this feeling didn’t dissipate soon, he’d pass out again. He looked down and realized that he wasn’t casting a shadow. The fatigue must have been messing with his vision. Now that he thought about it, his left eye was itching a bit. He gave it a rub, and the fatigue vanished as if that extra muscle had settled, and when he looked down, he saw his shadow. 

‘That wasn’t blood loss. It must have been some kind of leftover trauma from my suicide or this glitchy rebirth. But where am I?’

He had his wallet and phone with him, but there was no service, and the road was unusual. The ground was packed, but the sediment seemed native to the spot. In the modern world, even unpaved roads were made with at least a layer of sand and gravel to prevent them from being overgrown.

A sound reached his ears, one he rarely heard outside of movies and TV. He looked over his shoulder, seeing two adult men on horseback approaching him from down the road, escorting an old man driving a horse-drawn wagon. Behind the wagon, over a dozen men and women of varying ages were bound in chains, wearing rags for clothes and walking barefoot. 

This strange caravan came to a halt in front of Noah, and the three men stared at him in confusion. “You’re blocking the road. Get out of our way before you end up like them,” the driver barked.

It had been a long time since Noah saw a slave shipment. He usually only found them in post-apocalyptic timelines, when society had broken down, or timelines where the south won the Civil War and other such occurrences.

“Did you hear me? Get out of the way!”

“Boss, look at all of the blood he’s covered in,” one of the men on horseback said.

Noah looked at them. Their clothes were shoddy wool not woven by any kind of modern machinery, and their coats and boots were made of primitively-treated leather. Maybe he had been reincarnated to a third-world country?

‘If this was a post-apocalyptic timeline, then whatever happened wasn’t manmade. It happened before the Industrial Revolution, some kind of natural disaster that halted mankind’s development. A meteor?’

“I don’t think he understands us. He’s got some weird clothes. He might be the son of some noble,” the other horseman said.

They had sheathed swords but no signs of any guns. ‘So, this is an era before the invention of gunpowder. Medieval? It sure seems like it.’

“If he’s a noble, we can ransom him back, and if not, he looks healthy and strong enough to sell for a good price. Chain him up with the others.”

One of the men got off his horse and approached Noah with a length of rope. None of them were aware that he still had his knife on him. As the man reached out to grab his hands, Noah slashed him across the throat. It wasn’t the pinpoint jab he had given himself earlier; this was a bloody gash severing every vein and artery. It had been ages since he last killed someone, but it was something he was very well-practiced in.

A fountain of blood sprayed forth, and Noah threw his knife at the wagon driver, catching him in the chest. Before his first victim could drop to his knees, Noah ripped his sword from its sheath and charged toward the other horseman, already drawing his blade to avenge his coworker. Noah deflected the oncoming attack and pierced the man's heart.

“Fireball!”

There was a flash of light in his peripheral vision from the old man, and Noah’s instincts made him jerk back as a sphere of energy shot by his face. It struck a nearby tree and exploded, spraying fire in all directions like a Molotov Cocktail. Noah looked back at the old man sitting with one hand outstretched while the other covered the stab wound in his chest. A ring of crimson light floated around his wrist, marked with letters that Noah didn’t recognize.

“You can’t be serious,” Noah muttered.

“Fireball!” the old man shouted again.

Flames appeared and condensed in the old man’s hand, then shot at Noah like a burst from a flare gun. Noah dodged and rushed in to close the distance. The first fireball had forced him to let go of his sword, and the next drove him back before he could grab the second man’s. He’d have to finish this with his bare hands. 

The horses were all throwing tantrums in fear from the fighting, but the old man continued to launch those mysterious shots. Noah circled around the horses, jumped, and tackled the man. He grabbed him by the throat and began beating him with his fist with a rapid pace of controlled savagery.

His current body wasn't trained for combat, but he kept it healthy and strong and knew how much force he had to muster to get the job done. Blood started spraying with the third punch, and the old man soon blacked out. Noah promptly retrieved his fallen knife and finished him off. 

Noah took his time to catch his breath while he wiped off the blade, folded it up, and stored it in his pocket. He took those few moments to quell his annoyance. He was used to being reborn as a baby after every death and considered those early years to be his vacation between each new life.

He used the time to time to properly dispose of old memories, catalog useful knowledge, and mentally deal with loose ends. No one depended on him, and he usually had a parent or caregiver to look after him, giving him time to rest his mind. Now he had to jump back into a survival mindset and start from scratch in a world with new rules.

Those fireballs the old man had launched were undoubtedly magic, something that he thought only existed in fantasy. He had never seen magic before, not in any of the timelines he had already lived in. Under the belief of the Multiverse Theory, there was a timeline for every possible subatomic event, so was it possible for even magic to exist? What did this timeline have that all the previous ones lacked?

The old man would have been a valuable source of information, but with his subordinates now dead, he would never willingly tell Noah anything, and it wouldn’t be worth the time and trouble to interrogate him. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. The answers would come in time, and patience was something Noah learned long ago.

He turned his attention to the slaves, staring back at him with uncertainty. They weren’t rejoicing at the death of their captors, fair enough. After all, Noah hadn’t killed them to free the slaves or anything like that. As far as they knew, he was about to slay them all or sell them himself. Each was a variable, possibly benefiting or dooming him. It would have been best just to let them go, but he decided to get some use out of them first. The slave traders had spoken with an accent that he had never heard before, but it was English, though they probably didn’t call it that. These slaves must also speak it. 

“All of you, I give you permission to speak. Do you understand what I’m saying?” They didn’t verbally respond, but nodded in the affirmative. “Are there any among you who are familiar with this area?” None of them answered. 

Possessing knowledge could either make them valuable or a liability. They didn’t want to expose themselves unless they knew what awaited them. Noah sighed and returned to the old man, patting him down until he found an iron key, likely going to all of their collars. He held up the key for all the slaves to see. 

“I need one of you to guide me to a safe area with a source of fresh water, off the road where I won’t be seen. Whoever volunteers will get their collar removed and can ride in the wagon. Once I’m brought to a suitable location, you will all will be set free.” Six slaves raised their bound hands. “You.” 

He had selected a girl that looked to be around his age. She was dirty and underfed, but appeared healthy enough to be useful, and he could undoubtedly overpower her if she tried to betray him. It was hard to gauge her appearance in this state, as she had a pitiful look permanently etched into her face, like a basset hound. If he cleaned her up, she might be a real cutie, but right now, she was so dirty that he couldn’t even tell her natural hair color.

“What is your name?”

“Tin, sir.” She didn’t make eye contact. None of them did.

“Do what I say, Tin, and you’ll earn your freedom. Go against me and I’ll kill you.” He unlocked her metal collar but left her wrists bound. “Now help me take care of these bodies.”

Noah searched the corpses of the three slave traders, taking everything of value. Along with their swords, he got a couple daggers, some cord, and three makeshift wallets. They were snake skins with stacks of coins inside, tied to their belts.

“Tin, is there any danger of wild animals in these woods? Anything that I should worry about?”

“Monsters will surely be drawn by the smell of blood here. It would be best if we moved on now.”

Noah huffed in annoyance. Great, now he had monsters to worry about. This certainly was a world unlike any he had seen before. “Very well. Remove the clothes from the bodies and put them in the wagon.”

She wordlessly obeyed, proceeding to strip the corpses without unease or discomfort. Most girls her age would be too squeamish to do anything like this. As she worked, Noah searched the wagon and found a canvas bag, smelling too rancid to be used for food. He soaked it with a wineskin, and while it wasn’t ideal, it was good enough for him to use to put out the fires that the old man had started. 

He and Tin completed their tasks, leaving three naked bodies on the road and a few charred trees. Noah retrieved one of the swords, just a crummy machete, but sharp enough to get the job done. He showed no discomfort in decapitating the bodies and storing the heads in the canvas bag.

“Drag these bodies into the woods, out of sight from the road. That should satiate any beasts that search this area.”

There was no telling what the value of these slave traders was. If they were even slightly important to someone, their disappearance might lead to an investigation. On the other hand, three nude, headless bodies devoured by monsters wouldn’t leave any evidence. They couldn’t even be identified. Plus, if they were criminals, then their severed heads could be used to collect a bounty. He had been in a lot of bad situations and chaotic timelines, and all that experience would come in handy.

Once the bodies were dealt with, Noah took his seat at the front of the wagon, and Tin joined him. The two extra horses were tethered to the wagon's sides and would follow along. Noah cracked the reins, and the horses pulling the wagon began moving forward. 

“There is a suitable place several miles down this road. I will show you where,” said Tin.

“Until we get there, I have questions that I need answered. Where am I? What country is this?”

“This is the Algata Province of the nation of Uther.”

“How large is Uther? How much of the continent does it take up?”

Tin bowed her head. “Please forgive my ignorance. I do not know the size of this country, nor what a ‘continent’ is.” 

It was clear she expected punishment, but her answer didn’t surprise him. A slave educated in geography would be an unusual find. He needed to get his hands on a decent map, though that was probably a lot to ask for in this era. In a world with magic and monsters, there was no telling what the planet’s topography looked like, even the arrangement of the continents. He had traveled across countless earths, but much of his experience was now obsolete.

“Relax, I’m not going to hit you for not knowing something. Just keep answering my questions as best as you can. Uther, is it a rich country?”

“I… don’t know for sure. Perhaps there is wealth in the capital, but this is the countryside.”

“Does it operate under a monarchy? Or do they elect their leaders?” She looked at him like he had spoken in gibberish. “Does it have a king or queen?”

“Oh, yes, sir. There is a royal family, but I don’t know anything about them.”

“What do they use for currency?” 

“Metal coins, like silver and gold.”

Noah retrieved one of the snakeskin coin purses and emptied it out onto the seat between them. It was about a dozen bronze coins and a few silvers. He expected the other two held a similar amount.

“How much would you say this is? Would you say it is a large amount of money or not much?”

She looked at the coins with her glum expression. “I don’t know. I’ve never handled money before.” She picked up one of the silver coins and showed it to Noah. “This is what I’m worth.”

‘Well, that’s a depressing thought.’ “What season is it currently?”

“Mid spring.”

That was good for Noah. To get a foothold in this new world, he’d need ample time with the chances of survival at their highest. Winter would hamper his mobility and possible actions, and make life much harder. Had he appeared in this world a few months earlier, he could have easily frozen to death before reaching civilization. 

“You spoke before of monsters. What should I be cautious of in this forest?”

“The biggest danger is the wolves. They travel in packs and kill whatever they see. There are also bears, large spiders that hide in burrows, and goblins.”

‘Giant spiders and goblins? This world is getting more fantastical by the second.’ “Tell me about the goblins.”

“They are small, only about the size of children, and maybe half as smart. They have weapons and often ambush travelers.”

“The old man, what was that technique he used? I’ve never seen anyone do that before.”

“That was magic.”

“Tell me everything you know about magic.”

“It is the blessing of the gods, letting people call down divine retribution upon their enemies. It can create fire, control water, make you stronger, and do all kinds of things. There are many different kinds of magic users. I’ve heard of some of them; mages, paladins, warriors, shamans, but I don’t know much about what they can do.”

“What kind was the old man?”

“A mage, I think.”

“Can anyone use it? Or is it passed down through the bloodline?”

“I don’t know.”

If it was an ability passed down from parent to child, then this was a problem. Noah’s glitchy reincarnation left him with the normal genes of his last parents. Life would get exponentially harder if magic couldn't be learned or acquired. Then there was the mentioning of gods. He had spent several lifetimes searching for signs of the existence of God, some presence of divinity that might explain his existence, but he always came up short. However, in a world where magic existed, perhaps gods might as well. 

As they continued through the woods, Noah thought about the slaves walking behind the wagon. Letting them go might be a liability. They knew he had killed three slave traders and where he would set up camp. The slave traders mistook him for the son of a noble, so if the slaves went into some town and started blabbing about him and what he had done, people might come after him.

‘Perhaps it would be better to dispose of all of them? No, the chances of killing them all would be low and leave me with a lot of corpses to deal with. Also, killing them might get me in trouble. To think my laziness would compensate for my withered conscience….’

They passed a hill with trees blocking much of the view, and all of the horses flicked their ears to it. Noah didn’t miss that tick and reached into the wagon. When searching earlier, he found a bow and a few arrows, none of which seemed very well made. He took aim up the hill, spotting a shadow moving among the trees. 

Archery had been a hobby of his several lifetimes ago, so he was understandably rusty. The released arrow veered off course as it flew between the trees, but where skill and equipment failed, luck succeeded. Noah didn’t see what he hit, but there was a shriek of pain and the sound of multiple entities running off.

“What was that?” Tin asked.

“I assume that was one of those goblins you mentioned.” This was getting dangerous. “You stay here,” he told Tin. He stopped the wagon and went back with his knife and the key. He cut the slaves’ binds and unlocked their collars. “You’re all free to go, get out of here. But don’t even think of trying to follow—”

They ran off before he could finish his sentence. Fortunately, that would make him less of a sitting duck, and they’d draw the attention of anything that might want a piece of him. He returned to the driver’s seat and turned to Tin, holding up one of the coin purses.

“Get me to that safe spot and this is yours.”

The forest thinned a bit, the trees spreading out far enough for the wagon to go off the road and head toward the sound of running water. Finally, they arrived at a clearing where a waterfall thumped on exposed rock. It was isolated, just the place Noah needed. There was even a cave behind the waterfall where he could hide from predators. However, they were not the only inhabitants. 

“Tin, what are those things?” he asked, looking at the four barrel-sized creatures sliding across the ground. At first, he thought they were giant slugs, but realized they were translucent. 

“They are slimes. They like damp places. Their undersides are like huge mouths, devouring whatever they crawl over. Their bodies are covered with a thin skin, and if you tear it, its insides pour out and change the shape of its body.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“Yes. Anything that their undersides touch will melt, same with anything you stab them with. The bigger they are, the faster it happens, and the faster they can move.”

“How do I kill them?”

“You have to hit their brains.”

The slimes hadn’t noticed them yet, so Noah aimed with his bow at the nearest one. It was hard telling the front from the back of these things, but he spotted an apple-sized lump of solid tissue floating inside, suspended. He released the bolt, missing the creature’s brain by several inches. It rumbled in pain, and its gelatinous insides spilled out of the wound like a runny nose. Upon contact with the air, the viscera began to congeal and develop a layer of skin. It formed an extension of itself, like a second tail, now searching for what had injured it.

Already, the arrow was halfway dissolved, with smoke wafting from the entry wound. That thing was like a giant moving stomach. Noah would have preferred to take care of these monsters from a distance, but didn’t have enough arrows to risk losing. It would also get dark soon, and he didn’t want to try and look for another spot. 

He turned to Tin, cut her binds, and then handed her one of the coin purses. “You’re free. Go wherever and do whatever you want, but don’t even think of taking anything from the wagon.”

He got up from the wagon and approached the waterfall with one of the slave traders’ swords in his hand. It was the worst of the two, useful at least for experimentation. He approached the slime, already back to full health after being shot with the arrow. It didn’t appear to have eyes. 

He picked up a stone from the creek and threw it, sending it bouncing a few feet away. It pounced on the rock with surprising speed, smothering it with its body and absorbing it. If it could see, it was probably short-ranged, based on movement, or more likely, it could sense vibrations in the ground. 

Noah took another rock and threw it at the slime, ripping through its fragile skin and spilling its guts. The blow stunned it just long enough for him to sprint over and slice through its brain. Then, as quickly as he attacked, he darted back. He had learned through numerous occasions always to expect an enemy to get back up. Plus, he wanted to avoid getting sprayed with any guts.

Originally a nauseating yellow, the monster turned gray, and its exposed insides began to smoke and dissolve. Unfortunately, smoke was also coming from his sword. This really was a nasty acid. Noah wiped the blade on the grass and then rinsed it in the river to clean it. Unfortunately, it had undergone severe corrosion. Hopefully, it would last until he killed them all.

He did have a sense of relief, though. When he killed the slime, numbers didn’t appear in the air, displaying experience points earned. He started having concerns as soon as that first fireball was launched at him, and when Tin said it was a slime, he thought he had been reincarnated into some kind of RPG world. If, at any point, she used the word ‘level,’ he would have permanently lost the ability to keep a straight face and take anything seriously.

He repeated his strategy with the other three slimes. A fist-sized rock thrown with sufficient speed and accuracy could pierce the monsters and stun them long enough to deliver a fatal strike. After the third slime, his sword broke in half, the end completely melting off. There was one slime left, but it would be tricky. It was slithering behind the waterfall, unaware of what had happened to the others. The vibrations of the water would probably mask Noah’s movements, but he didn’t want to take the chance.

He crept behind the waterfall and threw another stone, striking the slime near the brain. Its body curled up like a slug sprinkled with salt, and Noah rushed over. This time, he thrust the broken blade straight in. Noah managed to stab the brain, but the sword slipped into its body. He pulled away before his inertia could send his hand plunging into the acidic muck, but several drops splashed him, and he could feel his skin dissolving. Noah thrust his hand into the waterfall and steadied his breathing as the pain faded. That was too close for comfort. He’d have to find another way to stop those things if he reencountered them.

The area was secure, now to set up camp. He stepped out from behind the waterfall, and to his surprise, he saw Tin standing by the wagon, waiting for him.

“What are you still doing here? I told you, you’re free.”

“I… don’t know what that means. I don’t know how to be free.”

“I gave you money. Take it to the nearest town and buy yourself something to eat and some new clothes. Look for anyone who will hire you, hopefully offering room and board in exchange. From there, start your new life.”

“Is that an order?”

“No, it’s advice. You don’t have to take orders from me, I’m not your master. I hired you to be my guide, you got your money, and our contract is complete. Now we part ways.” She continued to stand there, looking like a puppy in the rain. “You can have one of the horses. You’ll be able to get to town faster and outrun pursuers.”

“Does that mean you want me to prepare for your arrival into town?”

“You don’t have to do anything for me. You’re your own person now.”

“But I’m not. I’m yours,” she whimpered. 

This girl was needier than he would have liked, but her subservience made her more trustworthy than anyone he could expect to find in this world. Maybe it would be good to have an extra pair of hands to help him, at least until he got out of this forest. Besides, it wasn’t like this was the first time he had owned a slave. There were many dark timelines when he followed the rule of ‘when in Rome, do as the Romans.’

Noah stood before her and raised his hand. She instinctively flinched in anticipation, but rather than a sharp strike, Noah rested his hand atop her head and ruffled her hair. “Fine, we’re in this together. I’ll take care of you, and you take care of me, got it?”

She timidly smiled and blushed. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. Now, what skills do you have?”

“I can count to one hundred, I can write some, and I can tend to livestock and work fields, as well as perform household chores. I am also very experienced in pleasing men, so I can service you whenever you desire.” She bowed her head as she spoke, not seeing Noah raise his eyebrows at her last sentence.

Nothing about her current appearance stoked his libido. He was standing twenty feet away and could smell her like it was twenty centimeters. Sitting next to her in the wagon had been very unpleasant. Just letting her bathe in the river wouldn’t get the job done.

“Let’s get camp set up and then we’ll talk. You said you can tend to livestock, correct? Then I’ll leave the horses to you. Get them watered and fed and then remove these dead slimes. I imagine they’ve lost their acidity in death.”

Tin obediently went to work while Noah gathered all the chains and collars used to lead the slaves. There was also plenty of rope in case their binds broke during transport. Noah snapped the collars off the chains and used them as hammers to break the weaker links and separate the chains into multiple short segments. 

He split the rope into thinner strands, set up a perimeter around the campsite, and then hung the collars and chains like Christmas ornaments. Any intruders that tried to enter would hit the tripwire, and the jingling chains and collars would give them away. The horses were the second detection line, and if they started acting up, a threat was nearby.

“I’m going to go collect some firewood. If any monsters approach, just holler for me and throw some horseshit at them. The smell will drive them off.”

“Yes, Master,” she said with a bow. 

Noah set out into the woods with his only sword and a satchel the old man had been carrying. He didn’t want to stray far from camp, but he had to check out the area and ensure there weren’t any imminent dangers. He was especially cautious of the giant spiders that Tin had mentioned. She said they hid in burrows, so he kept a close eye on his footing, avoiding any suspicious areas that could be a possible ambush. Webbing on the ground was a telltale sign, proof that he wasn’t the only one using tripwires to detect enemies.

The first thing he did was gather pine boughs from around the site, accumulating a large pile that they would use for bedding. Then he gathered all the firewood he could carry and filled his satchel with medicinal plants and edible mushrooms. 

In every life, he learned and relearned survival skills to keep the information branded into his mind, so even if he had forgotten their names, he still recognized herbs that could be useful, but he’d have to test them later. This world was very different from what he was used to, and while most of the trees and plants appeared to be the same, there was no telling what toxins they might be hiding.

As Noah moved, he had a strong feeling that he was being watched and knew what was watching him, especially when he found one of their dead. It was a wolf, larger than any he had ever seen. His nose led him to it, the carcass reeking of death and rot. The meat was well beyond eating, and its fur and bones weren’t worth the effort to harvest, especially with all the maggots and flies, but there was something that he could make use of. 

The sun was starting to set by the time he finished, but luckily, dinner was already taken care of. The slave traders had packed enough food for themselves and their cargo. It was hard bread and dried meat, something that Noah’s spoiled taste buds would not appreciate, but he’d seen enough hard times to know how to be grateful.

Before doing anything else, he removed his hoodie and t-shirt. He had kept them on as an added layer of protection in case anything attacked him, but the blood had hardened into a thick crust, and he was glad to be able to take them off. Had he known he would reincarnate like this, he would have gone home and hung himself, preferably with his pockets stuffed with useful tools. He laid out his shirt and hoodie under the waterfall, directing the spray right onto the blood stains. He pinned them down with stones so they wouldn’t be washed away.

He noticed Tin watching him like a curious feline. She had never seen muscles like his before. Men needed great strength to survive in the countryside, and muscle mass naturally accumulated, but not evenly. Noah’s appeared more defined, as he had focused on improving the quality of his muscles instead of just chasing after the vague definition of strength.

“Tin, take off your clothes.”

“I shall do my best to satisfy you, Master.”

“Not like that. Put that dress of yours here under the waterfall. Do the same with all the clothes you removed from those slave traders. It may be low-quality, but whether we use them or sell them, it would be best if we can at least remove the stink.”

Tin pulled off her dress, though it was more like a raggedy potato sack with holes cut for her head and arms and a strip of cloth for a belt. She was malnourished and scrawny, but he just had to polish her up a little.

With the last of the light, he searched the river for stones. He tested their hardness, striking them against the back of his sword. Once he started getting sparks, he returned to the riverbank and gathered some tinder. He ground some dry birch bark into fine dust and struck the rock against his sword over it. It took several attempts, but some sparks landed in the dust and went up like gasoline. 

Noah and Tin sat on a makeshift bed of the pine boughs Noah gathered earlier, keeping them insulated, and they wrapped themselves in the canvas wagon cover. They spent the night eating rations and dozing beside the fire while the moon passed overhead.

Soon enough, the sun shining in his eyes awoke Noah from his sleep. It was not a deep sleep due to his current circumstances, but he at least felt rested. It was his first dawn in this new world. As he started moving around, Tin slowly stirred. 

“Master?” she murmured.

“Time to get up, we have work to do.”

It was a chilly morning, so Noah built up the fire while Tin collected their clothes from the waterfall. After a night under the pounding water, they were clean as could be reasonably expected. They were hung up to dry around the fire while Noah and Tin had breakfast. 

“What do you want to do, Master? I can lead you to town if you like.”

“How long would it take to get there?”

“Another two or three days.”

“Hmmm, we’ll stay here for bit longer. We have a defendable position, but if we return to the road, we’ll be exposed. While I have faith in my fighting abilities, I can’t defend myself, you, and the horses. We’re going to spend today improving our chances.”

“What should we do?”

“We’re going to make a lot of lye.” 

“Lye?”

“It’s a substance gathered from ashes. First, what I need you to do is start collecting clay from the river. If you dig under the silt, you’ll find it. Make a big pile of it here next to me.”

As Tin went to the river and gathered clay, Noah started digging a hole using his sword and a metal skillet he found in the wagon. Once he was done, he smoothed out the sides of the pit and then began slathering on the clay that Tin had brought. Next, he built a second fire, putting it in the pit. Any leftover clay was turned into cups and bowls and put in the campfire to bake. 

“Keep this fire going while I get more wood. You remember what to do if something attacks?”

“Throw horse dung and holler for you?”

“Right.”

Noah departed, heading back into the forest. He had to gather firewood from specific trees, hardwoods such as birch, oak, and maple. He moved cautiously, hearing movement all around him. Noah spent the early hours hauling wood, moving back and forth between the forest and the campsite. By the time he was finished, the clay packed onto the sides of the pit had hardened and could retain water. He now had a functioning basin.

Noah handed tin the metal skillet. “Here, use this to shovel as much charcoal and ash out of the basin as you can, then fill it with water. Rain water would be best, but river water will have to do.”

As Tin went to work, Noah started collecting stones from the river and putting them in the campfire to heat up. By the time Tin had finished with her task, the rocks were all sufficiently hot, and he moved them into the basin until it was boiling.

“Before we proceed, I need to warn you that what we’re doing is dangerous. This is going to produce toxic fumes, and we need to stay upwind so that we don’t breathe them in. The waterfall and the river are keeping the air moving in one direction. You got that?”

“Yes, Master.”

Noah started shoveling hardwood ashes from the campfire into the basin, and as time passed, he would swap out stones, ensuring the water was always boiling. Soon, a film began to settle on top of the water. It was liquid lye, rising from the ashes. He and Tin harvested it from the surface, careful not to touch it, and put it in the skillet to boil away the moisture. 

This process went on all morning. They kept burning birch and other hardwoods and shoveling the ashes into the basin. Once the basin stopped producing lye, they would swap in fresh ashes and water, get it boiling, and resume harvesting. In the meantime, Noah created more pottery with the river clay and baked it in the fire. The skillet was routinely filled with the lye mixture, and once the water evaporated away, Noah would scrape the lye into one of his clay jars.

It was early in the afternoon when he declared that they had collected enough. He collected a small bump with his knife and put it on his arm. He could feel it burning his skin like an aching sunburn. Had he taken his time with this, it would have burned a crater into his skin, but in this case, the quantity was better than quality.

“Yeah, this will work well. You did good,” Noah said, rubbing the top of Tin’s head.

“Thank you, Master,” she replied with what he assumed to be a rare smile.

“Let’s eat some lunch. I’m starving.”

They left the fire, sick of its heat, and ate by the waterfall. While chewing on tough jerky, Noah watched the horses. They weren’t tied to any trees and wandered around the campsite, nibbling on whatever they liked. The tripwire was doing an excellent job keeping them close, but they would probably run out of food by tomorrow. They’d have to move on by then.

“Master, if my may ask, how do you know how to do these things? I’ve never seen anyone fight like you do, at least not someone your age, and you have the skills of an alchemist. What kind of training have you done?”

“An alchemist? I kind of like the sound of that. Let’s just say that I have a lot of life experience. I’ve lived through good times and bad. Anyway, we should move on to the next stage. Yesterday, while I was looking for rocks in the dark, I think I might have seen some slimes moving about. They’re usually small, right? Not big like the ones I killed yesterday?”

Tin nodded. “They’re usually the size of rats.”

“Perfect. I’m going to go along the river and catch small slimes, but I need to do something first. While I’m busy, I want you to find the corpses of the big slimes I killed yesterday and try to collect their skin.”

Tin was obedient, not voicing doubts and instead setting off to do as her master ordered. Noah went back into the woods with prey on his mind. He came across a spot he had just yesterday done his best to avoid. There was spider silk on the ground and an obvious trapdoor nearby. Noah put a stick on his foot and readied his bow, taking aim. He kicked the stick over by the trapdoor, and a spider burst out to seize what it thought was its meal. The thing was huge, almost five feet in diameter. 

Noah released his arrow, striking one of its eyes and ending its life. Noah rushed over, pulled out the arrow, and thrust his fingers into the hole. He stirred his fingers in the spider’s brain, causing its legs, now curled, to start spasming. While vaguely familiar with spider anatomy, he was tickling what he hoped to be the cerebellum.

“Come on, where are you… Ah!” He found the magic spot and the abdomen started expelling silk at a frantic rate. Het got to his feet and dragged the spider with him, laying out the silk so it wouldn’t stick to itself. He had come up with this idea on a whim and was glad to see it work. When the flow of silk stopped, he removed his fingers. “That’s right, ladies, I am just that good.”

He then began rubbing dirt into the silk to keep it from sticking to anything. Next, he started gathering the older, thinner webbing it had used for its den. It was already dried out and lacking its original adhesion, so it was ready to be collected. He returned to the camp, carrying the spider with him. He was sure he could think up something to do with its corpse, maybe use it like a scarecrow to ward off goblins. When he arrived, Tin had completed her task and stared in amazement at the dead spider.

Noah walked over to the wagon and pulled out a small wooden barrel. It had originally been filled with salt, which the slave traders used to preserve their food. Noah poured what little remained into some of his clay jars, then hung the spider to drain its blood into the barrel. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much, and it had begun to congeal immediately after death, making it sticky like syrup. 

Once it had drained out, he swirled it around the inside of the barrel, covering every inch, and then poured in a load of leftover birch ashes, making sure they stuck to the layer of blood. Noah then filled the barrel with water and began walking through the river, searching the banks. It was only up to his knees, and there were plenty of large boulders for slimes to hide by. On his hands, he wore rough leather gloves one of the slave traders had been wearing. The slimes he found were the size of his fist, and with great care, he’d pick them up and put them in the barrel.

Thanks to the ash, the water in the barrel had a raised pH level, neutralizing the slimes’ acid and keeping them from melting through the sides. He also tossed in some food, hoping they’d still be able to digest it. If they were all still alive by the following day, his plan was a success.

“I’m sorry, Master, but the remains are too fragile for any kind of use,” said Tin with a pile of slime skins. Noah put down the barrel and examined the shed skin. It was crinkly and soft, a far cry from leather, more like a snake’s shed skin.

“No, they’re perfect, just what I wanted.” He handed her one of the daggers the slave traders had carried. “Here, start carving them up into segments, about as large as your hand.”

She nodded and went to work. While she did that, Noah collected some hair from the horses. He took the pieces that Tin had cut up and used them to wrap up small piles of lye, then tied them shut with the horse hair. The slime skin, despite its fragility, still maintained many of its characteristics. Slimes were like living acid, so they had to be able to control their pH level. Their skin kept their guts in and basic substances out, substances like lye, making it perfect for holding it. With their combined efforts, they created over thirty lye packs, plus another twenty filled with alkaline ashes.

“Ok, let’s test one of these out.” Noah took one of the extra squares, filled it with ashes, tied it off, and tossed it at a nearby boulder. The slime skin held together while being handled and thrown, but upon striking a hard surface, it burst open and sprayed its contents in all directions. “Perfect.”

“So we’re going to throw these things?” Tin asked.

“That’s right. This lye isn’t very strong, so it doesn’t do much to skin, but if it gets into your eyes or you breathe it in, you’ll go down. All we have to do is hit our enemies in the face and they won’t stand a chance. We still have a few hours of daylight left, so let’s work on a couple other ways to improve our situation, and tomorrow, we’ll head for the nearest town.”

When dusk finally arrived, they gathered around the campfire to eat and rest. “Now, we have one last job to do today, and that’s make soap.”

“Soap?”

“You’ve never heard of it?”

“I heard that the nobles use it. It makes them smell nice.”

“That’s the plan. No offense, but you stink, so we’re going to change that.”

Noah reached into his satchel and took out a lump of animal fat. He had gathered it from the carcass of the dead wolf, rolled it into a ball, and packed it with a shell of dirt to keep it from making a mess when he carried it. He cleaned it off, put it in the metal skillet, then set it over the fire.

“Now, while that melts, let me see your teeth.” It was a request that Tin wasn’t used to hearing, but she obeyed, flashing her teeth like a snarling animal. “Huh, not too bad.”

Despite her poor lifestyle, her teeth were in good condition. She grew up in a world without processed foods, sugars, or chemicals, so despite never brushing, there was no rot that Noah could see. Her breath was pretty bad, but that was because she lacked the concept of flossing.

Noah walked over to one of the horses, cut a lock of its long hair, washed it in the river, and returned to the campfire, where he braided several strands into a strong thread. He made a second and turned to Tin. “Take this thread and do as I do.” 

He used the thread to floss his teeth, something which Tin had never seen before. The line was thick, coarse, and fragile, but it got the job done, and he showed her the pieces of meat from their meals that he had gotten out. She mirrored the action to the best of her abilities, and Noah looked at the skillet. He added some lye, water, and a handful of ground-up pine needles to the melted fat, then started stirring the mixture together. He set the skillet back on the fire so that the water could be boiled away. 

“Have you gotten every tooth?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Then take a mouthful of this.” From next to the fire, there was also a cup made, of all things, tin. It was full of water brought to a simmer, with ground charcoal and pine needles mixed in. He let it cool and then handed it to her. “You said you could count, right? Well swirl this around your mouth and start counting. Once you reach one hundred, swallow it.”

She took a mouthful and handed it back to him so he could finish it off. With that taken care of, Noah took the skillet off the fire and examined the soap. It would never sell in a boutique, but it was good enough. Then, just as they had done so many times that day, they filled the basin beside them with water and got it hot with stones from the fire. 

Noah took a piece of cloth, wetted it in the basin, and smeared some soap onto it. Then, he stripped down and began scrubbing off the sweat and dirt that had clung to him, satisfied with how it lathered.

“Here, you do it too,” he said to Tin.

She held a piece of soap in her hand, staring at it with wide eyes. “It smells… sweet!”

She mimicked Noah, using a makeshift washcloth and the soap to scrub herself raw. She was frantic, leaving no spot untouched. The two of them cleansed their skin, lathering themselves with hot water and then rinsing off with cold. With the dirt removed, countless scars, bruises, and brands were revealed on Tin’s body, but neither of them said anything.

Finally, he had her lie on her back, lowered her head into the basin, and then scrubbed her hair with the soap until the bathwater turned as black as ink. She sat up and wrung the water out of her hair as he stood up and stretched. 

“Huh, so you’re a brunette. I honestly couldn’t tell your natural color.” She didn’t say anything back, just crouched by the basin, holding herself. She was trembling. “Tin?”

She looked up at him, and though her face was wet from the bath, he could see her tears. “I… I’ve never smelled this clean before!”

He rubbed the top of her head. “I’m glad.”

She reached up and grasped his hand with desperation in her eyes. “Master, can I please service you now?”

A small laugh escaped Noah. “My, my, what a greedy little slave you are.”

He leaned down, lifted her chin, and left a soft kiss on her lips. She shivered from that touch, gentler than any other in her life. Tin took the initiative, kissing him while her tongue slipped into his mouth. As they swapped saliva, she reached out and began caressing his manhood, erect and throbbing. She had been eyeing it since the moment she saw it, her mind buzzing with all the ways she would please her kind new master. 

When Noah finally pulled his lips from hers, she knew what he wanted and was eager to provide it. She leaned in, his cock disappearing into her mouth, only to reappear with a glistening layer of spit. Tin wasn’t shy and put all of her skills to work. First, she deepthroated him to make herself gag and salivate, then used her hands to work the shaft while she sucked on his head like a lollipop. Despite her joy at being so clean just a minute ago, she was making a mess, covering her face in spit with big foamy drops dribbling onto her breasts.

Noah rested his hand on her head and groaned. “I’m glad I decided to keep you.”

She released his cock, gasping for air with her eyes full of joy. “Am I doing good?”

“You’re magnificent, Tin.”

She went back at it, this time with a different target in mind. While she jacked Noah off, she sucked vehemently on his jewels, rolling them around in her mouth and balancing them on her tongue. She switched her techniques with masterful skill, giving Noah no time to brace himself. He didn’t even need to tell her when he would cum; she knew just by his breathing and how his muscles twitched. She swallowed his manhood like a voracious beast, pressing her face to his stomach as he swirled around inside her throat.

Several thick jets were pumped directly into her stomach, a salty dessert after her meal. Tin fell back, once again gasping for air and licking her lips. “Master,” she panted, “please don’t hold back. Use my body however you wish.”

“You’ve done well in pleasing me, but has anyone ever took the time to give you pleasure?”

He sat down cross-legged and pulled her across his lap like he was about to spank her. Instead, he held her by the throat, just a gentle grip to keep her still, while his free hand slipped between her legs.

“You’re so wet. To think you took so much joy in your work.”

Born into slavery, she had been abused and violated in all ways imaginable. She thought she had grown numb to it, but the feeling of Noah’s fingers touching her most private, sensitive area made her shiver and gasp. His movements were strong without being rough or clumsy. Instead, she sensed that his experience surpassed her own, and he used that experience to give her bliss that she never knew was possible. 

His fingers penetrated her, making her moan in a way she thought she never again could. His attack was relentless as he probed every sensitive spot like an assassin striking her pressure points. She was a slender girl, body fat being a luxury for a slave, but her flesh rippled from the vibrations drumming from her ass. She could feel the weight of her breasts with every movement and the sounds he was making—the sounds he was forcing her body to make, the squelching of soft, wet flesh; it was like she was experiencing this all for the first time. 

The pleasure was beyond words. Tin wanted it to go on forever, but her body wouldn’t obey her commands. Her muscles spasmed without pause, like she was being tickled. She inadvertently tried to pull away, her body wanting to protect itself from these sensations it couldn’t contain, but Noah’s grip on her throat remained firm. This position, what he was doing to her, felt so strange. She felt almost like an animal, like livestock, and Noah was the farmer, preparing her for breeding with some unconventional husbandry technique. Ironically, that wasn’t far from the truth.

She cried out as a climax rushed through her like a flash flood, but Noah didn’t stop, even as she became limp. He continued mercilessly finger-blasting her while his other hand released her throat, and he forced his fingers into her mouth. She sucked on them like they had a honey glaze. They were her lifeline, all that was keeping her conscious. She focused on the movements of her tongue and lips as she slurped up the flavor of his fingers. If she didn’t, the assault of orgasms would rob her of all thought and crush her mind.

Only when her moans finally stopped did Noah let her experience peace. He laid her on her back and leaned over her. The lewd, exhausted look on her face, the way she panted with flushed cheeks and swimming eyes, it was an expression he always loved to see, and he decided to tease her.

“You said I could do whatever I wanted with your body, right? Are you going to tell me that you can’t keep up with your master? That you lied and you can’t fulfill my desires?”

She reached out to him, her skinny arms coiling around his neck to pull him in. “Master, please, take me,” she begged with rosy cheeks.

By the campfire's light, he penetrated her, just as numerous men had done before, but none of them made Tin feel like this. His lips joined hers, a passionate but gentle kiss, while his thrusts, so fast and forceful, made her cry out in bliss to the stars overhead. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Civilization

 

 

 

 

 

They departed the following day at dawn, wanting an early start. All four horses were now pulling the wagon, and without the slaves in tow, Noah and Tin were able to travel much faster than before. Despite their speed boost, they had to be careful, as there were dangers all around them. This was a familiar situation for Noah. He had fought in numerous wars and seen countless post-apocalyptic worlds, living through one anarchic hellscape after another. He was used to growing eyes in the back of his head and expecting enemies at all times. 

“Master!” Tin exclaimed.

“Yeah, I see them.” 

Swarming from the side was a pack of wolves, each almost as large as the horses pulling the wagon. Noah handed the reins to Tin, who whipped the horses into a full gallop. He took out his bow and began launching arrows. Noah had made most of these arrows himself, but he had to rush them, so they weren’t his best work. Regardless, they got the job done for short-range encounters.

The wolves dodged the arrows as they charged, forced to move around to attack from the rear. Noah climbed into the wagon and stared them down through the open back. Changing their attack angle had momentarily slowed them, but they’d catch up in seconds and flank the wagon. 

Noah tossed a net out of the back, made of thorny bushes and bristles that dragged behind the wagon. The wolves that stepped on it cried out as sharp spines and seed pods spiked their paws. Those who were injured gave up the chase, while the rest of the pack learned and split up to avoid the net.

Before they could leave his view, Noah opened up the barrel of slimes and began throwing them. Even if the small beasts didn’t make a direct hit, they exploded like water balloons. The acid splashed on the wolves, who instinctively knew to avoid slimes. Finally, the pack realized that this prey wasn’t worth all the trouble and gave up. One threat had been neutralized, giving them time to breathe, but it didn’t end there. Bears and other forest beasts would pop up now and then and need to be dispatched with arrows or cold steel.

The more Noah fought, the more he realized how unprepared his body was for all this. He was healthy and strong and had lifetimes of combat experience, but his hands hadn’t built up a layer of calluses that a native of these lands would have. Every time Noah gripped his sword, he could feel blisters forming on his palm.

With Tin controlling the horses, he would work in the wagon, dismantling his kills. He removed the skin, teeth, organs, and anything that looked valuable or useful. Sometimes, they’d even stop so that he could collect medicinal plants and mushrooms. Then, in the afternoon, the next challenge revealed itself. In the distance, a tree lay across the road. A rider on horseback might be able to jump it, but never a wagon like this. But, whether or not it had fallen naturally, Noah knew who would use this opportunity.

“Tin, stop the wagon.” They came to a halt a hundred yards from the tree. “Turn the horses around. If I die, ride back the way we came. Stay at the waterfall until someone uses this road and then travel with them.”

“Master, are you sure about this?” she asked with her basset hound eyes.

“I’ve handled worse.”

He got off the wagon with his sword in hand. On his arm, he wore a shield made from the carapace of the spider he killed earlier. He was also wearing one of the slave traders’ coats, the closest he could get to leather armor, and he also had his satchel filled with lye packets. Rather than approach the tree, he dove into the woods.

He spotted them as he approached the barrier, hiding behind the trees. Goblins. They were the size of children, with protruding stomachs and green skin. Their faces, barely even humanoid, had beady eyes, pointed ears, and sharp noses. They carried swords, clubs, and bows, likely stolen from slain travelers. 

He closed in on the first one, his footsteps giving him away and causing it to screech in alarm. Noah dispatched it with a swing of his sword, overpowering its attempt to block and lopping off the top of its skull. The others, alarmed by the death of their comrade, turned their attention to Noah and attacked. They launched their arrows with poor aim, but Noah was forced to duck for cover. 

He pulled out one of his lye packs, focused on a goblin with a bow, and threw it like a baseball. The small pack nailed it between the eyes and exploded. The goblin took an instinctive breath in and then immediately screamed in agony. Not only were its sinuses and lungs filled with lye, but it had gotten into his eyes, leaving it blinded.

The way it shrieked, like a crying baby, was nothing less than unnerving. The goblins, hearing those screams, became frightened. This was a cruel world, and living in the woods, every day was a bloody fight for survival. But none of them had suffered or seen someone suffer a flesh wound and make that kind of noise. 

Noah gave them no time to gather their courage. He dealt with the other goblin archers the same way, leaving them howling in agony. Then, with their long-range attacks neutralized, he closed in. The remaining goblins tried to fight, but Noah slaughtered them with gruesome hacks and stabs. His spider shield fractured whenever he blocked a swing, but it held together long enough to kill them all. These goblins probably ambushed their prey, catching them by surprise to make up for their weak bodies, but once they lost that advantage, they were easy to dispose of.

He was closing in on the last one, slightly larger than the others and armed with a club. It growled and made a wide swing. Noah didn’t try to block and stepped back out of the monster’s reach, then swung down his sword and cleaved the goblin’s head open. To his discomfort, blood splattered across his face and got into his eye. He rubbed it out until he could see, then nearly staggered, hit with sudden fatigue. That fight must have taken more out of him than he thought.

He pushed through the sudden weight and returned to the road. It was exhausting work, but he moved the tree out of the way.

“Tin, come on through!”

The wagon approached and stopped where the tree had lain, but there was confusion on Tin’s face. “Master, where are you?”

“What are you talking about? I’m right here.”

Tin’s confusion was turning into panic. “I can’t see you anywhere!”

He walked over and grabbed her arm. “Tin, I’m standing right beside you.”

Touching her just made her yelp in surprise. “I still can’t see you! What’s going on?”

That’s what he wanted to know. Was something affecting her eyes? Maybe she had been hit with some kind of goblin attack, or it was an illness, either a disease or poison from something in the forest. 

“Tin, look around. How is your vision?”

“It’s fine, I can see everything clearly! But I can’t see you!” Was he the problem? He could see himself just fine, but his eye was still itching from the blood. He rubbed it with his palm, and Tin gave another yelp of surprise. “Master, you’re back!”

“I was here all this ti—” He stopped, noticing something. His fatigue was gone, vanishing just as suddenly as it appeared. He felt it last when he first woke up in this world. His eye had been itching as well. He rubbed his left eye again, and Tin freaked out. “Tin, can you see me?”

“No, it’s like you vanished into thin air!”

He was feeling the strange fatigue again. He stepped back and began kicking around leaves and dirt. “Can you see this?”

“See what?”

Well, that answered that question, but for some reason, the fatigue seemed to deepen when Noah acted. He rubbed his eye again, and from the look on Tin’s face, she appeared to be able to see him again. “What happened to the road?” she asked. “It just suddenly changed when you reappeared.”

Noah put his hand over his eye again and repeated the experiment, making a mess of the road. “Can you see any difference in the road?”

“No.” He covered his eye once more to undo the phenomenon, and she nodded her head. “Yes, now I see.”

“So when I disappear, you can’t see what I do to the road, but when I reappear, it suddenly changes, right?” 

“Yeah, sort of like flipping a page. Master… I think you’re using magic!”

“Magic? No, that doesn’t make sense. My parents were normal, I haven’t even studied any kind of magic.”

“That’s the only thing it can be. But I’ve never heard of magic that could make people disappear like that.”

“I’m not disappearing, I think I’m becoming invisible. It’s… an illusion. I’m creating an illusion that makes me invisible… and when I alter something around me, it expands the illusion to conceal the change I’ve made until I release it.” He covered his eye and felt the fatigue, then covered it once more, and it stopped. “Covering my eye is the trigger that activates it.”

He then remembered his last moments with Lindsey. He had covered his left eye because the sun was blinding him, and he woke up in this world in that same position. His glitchy reincarnation hadn’t just preserved his body at this age; it had given him magic of some kind. Maybe the magic itself caused the error, the magic present in this new world. 

“Tin, do they have any kind of word for the energy used for magic? I feel like something is draining out of me when I use it.”

“They call it mana.”

“You have got to be kidding me. Ok, let’s see what happens when I cover my other eye.”

The moment he attempted it, he fell to his knees, almost blacking out. “Master!” Tin exclaimed. She climbed down and helped him to his feet.

“So, you can see me. That means I didn’t turn invisible. But something happened, or at least tried to happen. I have a different spell in each eye, but not enough mana to use the second one. It must be like a muscle. I have to train it to increase my stamina. Anyway, let’s get out of here before the smell of those goblins attracts wolves.”

The next day, while Tin looked after their makeshift camp, Noah was busy experimenting with his magic. He had come across a giant spider draining the blood from a captured rabbit. As he approached, Noah covered his eye and cast his illusion. His feet on the underbrush should have given him away, but the spider didn’t seem to notice. He decided to make more noise, picking up a stick and snapping it, but still, the spider didn’t seem to notice. 

“Over here.” 

Finally, the spider spun around, its black eyes searching for the source of the noise. It seemed that Noah's illusion also concealed sounds, but not his voice. Maybe because he intended for his voice to be heard? He couldn’t fully stress himself since he needed to save his strength for when he needed it, but after experimenting, he was starting to sense the flow of his mana. 

He drew his sword, a new one. After the fight with the goblins, he had taken their weapons, and despite being slightly rusty due to inadequate care, they were of higher quality than the cheap machete that Noah had been using until now. He now carried a Medieval-style longsword, a short sword, and a knife. He devised the arrangement with thoughts of ancient samurai, who carried a katana, a wakizashi, and a tanto dagger.

He reached out with his longsword and used it to rustle a nearby bush, but the spider didn’t react. Noah could feel his mana flowing through his sword towards the bush, enveloping it in the illusion. He focused on the energy running through his arm and tried to slow the current, to keep it from moving beyond his sword. 

It was exceedingly difficult, like trying to flex a muscle he had never used. It reminded him of all his years as a newborn when his muscle tissue was practically gelatin. He tempered his breathing and drove out all distractions from his mind. He could feel the flow of his mana like he had grabbed hold of it. He pulled it back, leaving the sword enveloped, but this time, when he rustled the bush, the spider raised his front legs and bared its fangs, believing an animal to be causing the disturbance.

Noah slowly approached and tapped one of the spider’s raised legs with his sword, causing it to hiss in rage and attack blindly. It couldn’t sense the presence of anyone or anything nearby, so it could do nothing to stop Noah from ending its life. He harvested what he needed from the body and then returned to camp.

The illusion could block sounds from reaching his enemy, but it couldn’t erase the sense of touch, so he couldn’t just turn invisible and stab someone without them feeling it. Also, while invisible, he could see mana in the environment and life forms. He couldn't measure the amount or detect affinity, but certain animals seemed shrouded in mana. He didn’t get the impression that they could use magic, more like it clung to them, like an odor. What made them so special? This was just another question that Noah chalked up to something he’d learn later. 

It was a sweet relief to Noah and Tin when they finally left the forest. After days of repeated ambushes by predators and goblins, the sea of trees flanking them gave way, replaced with fields where farmers and slaves were planting crops. In the distance, they saw the town of Clive. It was surrounded by a log fence to keep the monsters out, reminding Noah of the colonial village museum from his fifth-grade field trip. The creek from their waterfall camp joined into the river that flowed beside the town.

Guards in cheap armor manned the gate, and they stopped Noah and Tin as they approached. One looked over the horses and the wagon with a wary eye. “These belong to Garrow and his men. How did you come by them?”

“Were you close with Garrow?”

“No.”

Noah slipped the man a few bronze coins. Hopefully, they were worth something and that he wasn’t trying to bribe him with pocket change. “Then I suppose you’re mistaken, right?”

Seeming satisfied, the guard pocketed the money and waved them in, and Noah and Tin entered the town. For Noah, it was like he had traveled back to Medieval Europe. Peasants walked the muddy road, street vendors tried to sell their wares, and the air stank beyond all description. The buildings were brick and wood, only a few more than two stories high, with foggy glass windows. 

“What do we do now?” Tin asked.

“We’re going to sell this wagon, everything in it, and the horses. That guard recognized them, so others may as well. Plus, I can protect a stack of coins better than this load of pelts. We can just buy replacements if we need them.” They rode past a beggar lying in the street, and Noah brought the horses to a stop. “You there, where can I find a weapon dealer?”

The bearded man pointed a trembling finger to the east. Noah didn’t thank him but tossed him a copper coin. They turned down one of the eastern streets, and a sign caught Noah’s eye. It had an anvil with two crossed swords in front of it like a crest. They stopped the wagon outside, and Noah disembarked.

“Look after the wagon. This place is probably crawling with thieves, so be wary.”

Tin was armed with a dagger, and he believed in her competence. He stepped into the store, with a bell ringing above his head from the door opening and closing. This building was made of brick to lessen the fire danger from the forge in the back. Numerous weapons hung on display, from swords to halberds. In his previous lives, Noah could have bought a Damascus sword online for $60, which would have put these to shame. 

He studied the prices to figure out the rate of conversion for money. The numbers were written slightly different from past worlds, but they appeared to have the same values. From what he could tell, ten copper coins equaled a bronze, ten bronze equaled a silver, and ten silver for a gold. The metric scaling made it easy to compare them to US dollars, but from what era? 

There was a suit of armor selling for two gold coins, about two thousand dollars. But was that two thousand dollars back in the Old West, or the 21st century? He couldn’t even tell whether the prices were reasonable or not. This could be great equipment at a high price, mediocre tools sold to beginners and cheapskates, or even junk the owner was asking the moon for to try and rip Noah off.

A man appeared from a back room and stood behind a counter. He was a great bear of a man, buff and dirty from a life spent standing over an anvil. Seeing Noah’s modern clothes, unease crossed his face. “Can I help you?”

“Do you buy weapons as well as sell them?”

“Only as long as they incorporate metal. I don’t buy bows or staffs.”

“Perfect.” Noah returned to the wagon outside and retrieved an armful of weapons looted from dead goblins. He stepped back inside and laid them out on the store counter. “What can I get for all of these?”

There were four short swords, two longswords, six daggers, three spears, and an axe. The blacksmith raised his eyebrows in mild surprise at the size of the haul but maintained a poker face for the sake of business. He examined each weapon, making exaggerated grunts and sighs over every chip and sign of rust. 

“This is mostly garbage. I can buy them for one silver.”

“That’s a bad joke. That’s less than a bronze coin per weapon. You’re selling daggers for three bronze each. Seven silver.” Judging by the prices of the display pieces, that was more than the blacksmith could sell them for, and while he would have liked to go higher, the blacksmith was low-balling him.

“That’s ridiculous. My merchandise hasn’t been dragged through the woods. Yours has. I’ll have to spend all night polishing and sharpening these to make them worthy of being put on display. Two silver.”

“Leave them as is and then chalk down the price. You can sell them to some newbie warriors as training gear. Six silver.”

“I can’t come anywhere near that. The best I can do is two silver and five bronze.”

“You can always just forge them into something new and sell at a higher price. Four silver.”

“You think you’re the only one selling weapons by the arm-load? Plenty of adventurers come in here to dump what they found in some goblin tunnel. Scavenged swords are hardly rare on the market. Two silver and seven bronze. That’s my final offer.”

“How about this: my axe, plus two daggers, in exchange for that nicer axe up on the wall? Everything else, you buy at half for what you’re selling their counterparts for. That’s ten bronze for the short swords, another ten for the long swords, four and half bronze for the daggers, and another four and half for the spears. That’s right around three silver.”

The blacksmith gave a huff. Three silver was such a round, whole number. It was five bronzes above what he could get if he sold the weapons for half price, but his inner perfectionist didn’t want to complicate it with a smaller payment. Had Noah planned that from the beginning? Either way, he felt stuck on those three silver coins like a ship hitting a reef.

“Fine, three silver.”

“Deal.” He and Noah shook hands, and Noah received the three coins and the axe. “I also have another thing outside that you might be interested in. Follow me.” He led the blacksmith out into the street and showed him the tripwire roll in the back of the wagon.

“What is it?”

“A tripwire system, offering a hundred yards of protection. Any monster that touches it makes the metal alarms jingle. It’s so loud that even the dead can hear it. I’ll trade it for three bronze and the small shield you had in the corner. It’s got to be worth that in materials alone.”

“Fine, but only to get rid of you. You’re exhausting.”

The deal was struck, and Noah and Tin set off on a much lighter wagon. The axe Noah had gotten was perfect for camping, and would make a suitable backup weapon in a pinch. The shield he now wore on his arm was only around the size of a dinner plate, but that worked for him. It was strong enough to block a sword slash and wouldn’t hamper his movements.

They sold and traded their wares with directions from many of the townsfolk. The blacksmith wouldn’t buy the bows, but Noah found another weapon dealer who allowed him to trade up to a better piece and a quiver of good-quality arrows. After that, the medicinal herbs and mushrooms were bought by an herbalist, the wolf pelts went to a leatherworker in exchange for some leather armor and two backpacks, and the clothes and bags were traded at the garment shop for some new outfits.

Due to the weird looks he received, Noah was aware that his modern clothes made him stand out. They were too valuable to get rid of or sell, so he simply packed them away and donned the apparel of the countryside. The monsters that roamed these lands had tougher hides than normal animals, so his leather armor was surprisingly strong, comparable to chain mail and able to stop most slashing attacks.

That was a preview of Across Eternity Book 1. To read the rest purchase the book.

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