He woke up early in the morning, but kept lying in bed, collecting his thoughts.
He remembered how he used to sleep in when he was younger. He could wake up at noon with no issues. He lost that ability when he became a father and had no choice but to wake up with his son. At first, when he woke up with a dirty diaper that needed changing, but lately he woke up and just needed company. Sometimes Mike wished he could go back to the times he could wake up as late as he wanted. But lying now, in this bed, he would give anything to keep his son company again.
âIâm not sure thatâs ever going to happen againâ he thought, âbut the only way it happens is if I do the best I can to win this thingâ
He turned to checking his numbers. His level didnât change and he didn't have any indication he gained anything towards its advancement. He used to call it xp in his gaming days, but there was no xp bar which he could discern.
He did see something new in other skills and abilities, though. He opened his abilities' progress window .
The abilities progress window materialized as a translucent panel of deep blue energy, with each ability listed in crisp white text. Small progress bars pulsed gently beside each entry, their golden fill indicating experience gained.
Mike studied the interface windows floating before him, trying to make sense of the progression system.
Abilities Progress:
Pattern Analysis
Recursive Strike
Thread Manipulation (Rank 1): 10/100 experience
Mirror Weave Pattern Shield (Rank 1) : 4/100 experience
Biorhythm Restoration (Rank 1): 3/100 experience
Reality Stitch (Rank 1): 1/100 experience
Pattern Bomb (Rank 1) : 3/100 experience
Adaptive Patterns (Rank 1): 4/100 experience
Temporal Patterns
He noticed that only the abilities he'd actively used in combat showed any progress. Thread Manipulation had the most at 10/100 - not surprising given how much he'd relied on those invisible threads during the wolf fight. Mirror Weave Pattern Shield and Adaptive Patterns both sat at 4/100, which made sense since he'd only activated them a few times each.
"So it's use-based progression," he muttered, rubbing his chin. "No free experience just for winning fights. Have to actually practice each ability to improve it."
Next, he opened his skills progression window, this one rendered in softer green tones. .
Skills Progress::
Enhanced Perception (Rank 1): 12/100 experience
Out of Chaos Comes Order (Rank 1): 2/100 experience
Pattern Optimization (Rank 1): 4/100 experience
Pattern Mastery (Rank 1): 4/100 experience
Logical Processing (Rank 1): 7/100 experience
Empirical Learning (Rank 1): 2/100 experience
Combat Flow (Rank 1): 3/100 experience
Analytical Focus (Rank 1): 4/100 experience
Weakness Threading (Rank 1): 2/100 experience
Pattern Prediction (Rank 1): 2/100 experience
The passive skills showed more varied progress. Enhanced Perception led the pack at 12/100 - apparently his constant environmental scanning counted as practice. Logical Processing sat at 7/100, which tracked with all the tactical analysis he'd done mid-combat.
What interested him most was seeing Combat Flow at only 3/100 despite how much fighting he'd done. Maybe the time-slowing effect only counted when he was in genuine mortal danger? The wolves had been threatening, but perhaps not threatening enough once he'd gotten into the rhythm of the fight.
"Going to take forever to rank these up," Mike sighed, dismissing the windows. At least now he understood the system better. Practice made perfect, literally in this case.
The smell of cooking food finally drove him from bed. His body felt remarkably recovered - stamina back to full, mana restored. Even the lingering soreness from yesterday's battles had faded. Whatever constitution his enhanced Vitality provided, it worked wonders for recovery.
Downstairs, he found Clara and Lucian already at the kitchen table. Lucian looked up from a steaming mug of what smelled like herbal tea, his weathered face showing the strain of yesterday's losses.
"Morning," Mike said, settling into a chair. "Thank you again for the hospitality."
Clara set a loaded plate before him - eggs, thick slices of bread with butter, and some kind of root vegetable hash. "Least we can do. Eat up. You'll need your strength for the road."
"Speaking of which," Lucian said, "I'm heading to Millhaven this morning. Need to report to the Lord Governor about Marcus and these wolf attacks. Since you mentioned wanting to go that way..."
"I'd appreciate the company," Mike said between bites. The food was simple but satisfying, each bite seeming to energize him further. "When do we leave?"
"Within the hour. Adrian wants to come too - we'll pick him up on the way. His farm's not far off the main road. Two days' walk if we keep a good pace. There's a waystation at the halfway point where we can shelter for the night."
Clara tsked. "Adrian should be resting that leg."
"The man who healed him did good work," Lucian countered. "Besides, Adrian won't sit idle while there's danger about. You know how he is."
Mike recognized the fond exasperation of people discussing a headstrong young man. "Is his leg fully healed? I tried to be thorough, but biorhythm restoration is still new to me."
"Seemed fine when he left yesterday. Moving like nothing had touched him." Lucian's sharp eyes studied Mike. "That's quite a gift you have. Healing like that... it's rare. Most healers need temples and prayers and hours of work. You just laid hands on him and fixed him in moments."
Mike shrugged, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "Right place, right time."
"You say that a lot," Lucian observed. "Almost like you're trying to convince yourself."
Before Mike could respond, Clara intervened. "Leave the man be, Lucian. He saved your life. That's enough questions for one morning."
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They finished breakfast in companionable silence. Mike helped clear the dishes despite Clara's protests, then gathered his few belongings. The clothes Lucian had lent him fit well enough. The traveling pack Clara had given him yesterday was already loaded with supplies.
"Road food," she explained, checking the contents one more time. "Dried meat, travel bread, dried fruits, nuts. Water skins are full. There's rope, flint and steel, a good knife. Should see you to Millhaven easy enough."
"I can't thank you enough," Mike said sincerely.
"You brought my husband home alive. That's plenty." She turned to Lucian. "You be careful. Both of you. Whatever's in those woods, it's not done with us yet."
They set out as the morning sun crested the hills, frost still glittering on the grass. Mike adjusted the pack on his shoulders, finding the weight negligible with his enhanced strength. Lucian set a steady pace, the gait of someone used to covering long distances.
"Tell me about Millhaven," Mike said as they walked. "What should I expect?"
"Market town, like I said. Sits at the crossing of two rivers - the Mill and the Haven, hence the name. Lord Governor Aldric rules from the keep. He's... capable enough, I suppose. Keeps the peace, collects taxes fairly. But he's city-born. Doesn't understand the wild country."
"You think he'll listen about the wolves?"
Lucian's expression darkened. "He'll listen when I bring news of Marcus's death. Seven hells, Marcus supplied half the garrison with fresh game. But whether he'll act..." He shrugged. "City folk think walls solve everything."
They walked in silence for a time, following a dirt track that wound between harvested fields. Mike noticed the absence of workers despite the clear weather. Doors stayed barred, windows shuttered, even though it was full daylight.
"Everyone's scared," Lucian said, following his gaze. "Word travels fast out here. First the Henricks' farm, then our sheep, now Marcus dead. People are wondering who's next."
After an hour's walk, they turned off the main track toward a smaller farmstead. This one looked more modest than Clara's - a simple wooden house with a thatched roof, small barn, and vegetable garden. Adrian emerged before they reached the door, already dressed for travel with his own pack ready.
"Knew you'd be by," he said with a grin that made him look even younger. "Been up since dawn getting ready."
"How's the leg?" Lucian asked.
Adrian did an exaggerated stretch, bending and flexing. "Good as new. Better maybe. Whatever you did," he looked at Mike, "it worked perfectly."
Mike found himself oddly pleased by the young man's enthusiasm. "Glad to hear it. Though you should still be careful. Healing doesn't mean the muscle memory of the injury isn't there."
"Listen to him," Lucian said. "Man knows what he's about."
They set off together, Adrian falling into step beside Mike while Lucian took the lead. The younger man kept stealing glances at Mike, clearly working up to something.
"What is it?" Mike finally asked.
Adrian flushed slightly. "Was wondering... would you be willing to spar later? When we stop for midday rest? I've never seen anyone fight like you did. Those moves, the way you read the wolves' attacks... I want to learn."
Mike considered it. Sparring would help him practice his abilities in a controlled environment, and Adrian seemed genuinely eager to improve. "Sure. But we go slow, and we stop if that leg gives you any trouble."
"Deal!" Adrian's grin widened. "Lucian's been teaching me since I was young, but yesterday showed me how much I still need to learn."
"We all need to learn," Lucian called back. "Especially with what's coming out of those woods. The old ways might not be enough anymore."
The road improved as they traveled north, transitioning from dirt track to packed earth with occasional gravel. They passed other travelers - merchants with loaded wagons, farmers heading to market, even a small patrol of guards in Lord Aldric's colors. Everyone moved with purpose, no one lingering on the road.
"Haven't seen it this busy in years," Lucian muttered after the third group passed them. "Like everyone's trying to get somewhere safe before nightfall."
The sun climbed higher, warming the autumn air. Mike found himself enjoying the simple rhythm of walking, the crunch of gravel underfoot, the occasional bird call from the hedgerows. It reminded him of hiking with Sarah and Tommy, those precious weekend escapes from suburban life.
The thought brought a familiar ache. Where were they now? Did they think he was dead? The Federation had given him no information about what his family had been told, if anything.
"You alright?" Adrian asked quietly. "You looked... distant."
"Just thinking," Mike said. "About people I left behind."
Adrian nodded sympathetically. "I get that. When I'm out hunting for days, I miss home something fierce. Can't imagine being away for... however long you've been traveling."
If only he knew, Mike thought. It wasnât the time, but the unbearable distance. But he just nodded and kept walking.
By midday, they'd covered good ground. Lucian led them off the road to a small clearing by a stream, declaring it time for rest and food. They settled on fallen logs, breaking out portions of their travel supplies.
"Right then," Adrian said, practically bouncing with eagerness. "How about that sparring match?"
Mike smiled at his enthusiasm. "Eager to get knocked on your ass?"
"Ha! We'll see who ends up in the dirt."
They cleared a space while Lucian watched with amusement. Mike did a few stretches, noting how his enhanced flexibility made movements that should have been difficult feel natural. Adrian did the same, favoring his recently healed leg slightly despite his claims of full recovery.
"Rules?" Adrian asked, taking a basic combat stance.
"First to three solid hits wins. No face shots, no permanent damage. If someone yields, we stop immediately." Mike settled into his own stance, weight balanced, hands loose. "Ready?"
Adrian nodded and immediately lunged forward with a quick jab.
Time seemed to slow as Mike's Combat Flow kicked in. He could see the punch coming like Adrian was moving through molasses. His Enhanced Perception picked up every tell - the slight drop of Adrian's shoulder, the shift of weight to his front foot, even the way his eyes narrowed in concentration.
Mike swayed aside, letting the punch pass harmlessly by. He could have countered easily, but this was about learning, not domination.
REcovering from the miss, Adrian approached more cautiously, feinting left before attacking right. Better, but still predictable to Mike's enhanced senses. He activated Pattern Analysis for just a split second - even on a Level 20 human like Adrian, the mana cost was noticeable. The brief scan revealed Adrian's preferred attack patterns, his slight favoring of his right side, the way he planted his feet before committing to a strike.
Mike slipped the attack and tapped Adrian's ribs lightly. "One point.â.
Mike didnât exhibit any advanced martial arts techniques. He just used his superior stats. He thought he might need lessons himself, but didnât say anything to Adrian.
They continued sparring, Mike landing a few gentle hits, but Adrian was able to get in a couple of his own, now and again.
"You were going easy on me," Adrian said, but he was grinning. "I could tell. The way you moved against those wolves... this was nothing like that."
"Different kind of fight," Mike said. "Those wolves wanted to kill me. You just want to train. Changes everything."
They resumed their journey after the midday break, the road now beginning to climb into low hills. The landscape changed, farmland giving way to rougher country with scattered copses of trees and rocky outcroppings.
"We'll reach the waystation by nightfall," Lucian said. "It's fortified, maintained by Lord Aldric's men. Should be safe enough."
"Should be?" Mike asked.
"Nothing's certain anymore," Lucian said grimly. "But it's better than camping in the open."
As they walked, Adrian peppered Mike with questions about fighting techniques, clearly energized by their sparring session. Mike answered what he could, carefully avoiding anything that would reveal the true source of his prowess. He didnât know yet whether he could trust them with the truth. They may think heâs crazy.
The sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon when they crested a hill and saw the waystation below. It was a squat stone building surrounded by a wooden palisade, smoke rising from its chimney. Even from here, Mike could see guards on the walls.
They made their way down to the station, where they were challenged at the gate by a young guard who looked barely older than Adrian.
"State your business," the guard called, trying to sound authoritative.
"Lucian Weatherby, hunter of Westmere. Heading to Millhaven to report to Lord Aldric. These are my companions."
The guard relaxed slightly. "Lucian! Didn't recognize you. Come in, quickly. Captain wants to hear any news from the south."
The gates opened, revealing a courtyard with stables, a well, and the main building. More guards than Mike would have expected for a simple waystation moved about with purpose.
The captain emerged - a grizzled veteran with iron-gray hair and too many scars.
"Lucian," he greeted. "Good timing. We've had word from the logging camps. Something big came through three nights ago. Killed four men, destroyed half the equipment."
"Wolves?" Lucian asked.
The captain shook his head grimly. "No wolf did what we found. Trees shredded twenty feet up. Claw marks in solid stone. And the bodies..." He trailed off, noticing Adrian's pallor. "Well. It wasn't wolves."
Mike felt a chill that had nothing to do with the evening air. The unknown threat from the deep woods - it was moving closer to civilization.
"We're heading to Millhaven to report just such concerns," Lucian said. "Lost a man to dark forest wolves yesterday. It seems something drove them from their territory."
"Then you'd best hurry," the captain said. "Lord Aldric needs to hear this. Whatever's out there, it's not staying in the deep woods anymore."
As they were shown to their quarters for the night - a simple room with three cots - Mike couldn't shake the feeling that they were running out of time. The wolves had been driven out by something worse. Now that something was attacking logging camps, moving closer to populated areas.
As night fell over the waystation, Mike stared out the narrow window at the darkening forest and wondered what predator would terrify the wolves he fought. Perhaps something more than a predator. Much more. Whatever it was, he had a feeling he'd find out soon enough.