Walking, Elias decided, was a highly TIRESOME mode of transport. He absolutely hated it although his legs were stretching up after a long time an they seemed to really enjoy the movements he made.

  ‘Why does it feel like gravity is heavier here?’

  Or perhaps it was just the sun.

  The giant, blazing ball of nuclear fire hung directly overhead, baking the mountain path and making Elias squint until his head hurt.

  He pulled his hood lower.

  "Too bright," he muttered. "Nature is too loud."

  The birds were screaming. The wind was rustling.

  The five adventurers walking ten paces behind him were whispering so frantically they sounded like a nest of agitated vipers.

  "We must lead him to the Temple," the Knight, whose name was Rylus, hissed. "The High Priestess can conjure the Holy Banishment. It’s our only chance."

  "Are you insane?" the Mage, Kael, whispered back. "Did you see what he did to the door? He fused Adamantine into stone with a wave of his hand. If we provoke him, he won't just kill us. He'll unmake our ancestors."

  "He looks… frail," the Archer suggested tentatively. "Maybe he has low constitution?"

  Elias sighed. He stopped walking.

  Behind him, the entire party froze. Rylus dropped into a defensive crouch. Kael raised his glittering twig of a staff.

  Elias looked down at his robe. The gray fabric was hopelessly wrinkled from his three-hundred-year nap. It looked unprofessional. If he was going to re-enter society, he should at least look like a Grand Archivist, not a vagrant.

  "Wrinkles," Elias murmured. "Not noble enough, maybe I should get a new robe?"

  He raised a finger. He intended to cast [Press], a simple domestic cantrip used by junior librarians to smooth out parchment scrolls and uniform pleats.

  He focused on the fabric. He pushed a thimble-sized amount of mana into the spell matrix.

  Or, he tried to.

  "[Press]," he commanded.

  The mana surged. It didn't just target his robe. It targeted the concept of 'uneven surfaces' in a ten-foot radius.

  WHAM.

  There was no explosion. Just a sudden, violent downward force, as if gravity had increased by a factor of a thousand for a split second.

  The dust on the road was instantly compacted into sandstone. A boulder the size of a carriage sitting by the path groaned, cracked, and was flattened into a perfect, two-inch-thick pancake of solid granite.

  Elias’s robe, however, was perfectly smooth. Not a wrinkle in sight.

  "Much better," Elias said, patting his chest.

  He turned back to the adventurers. They were staring at the flattened boulder with wide, terrified eyes.

  "Are you coming?" Elias asked. "I don't know the way."

  "Y-yes, Lord Archivist," Rylus squeaked.

  They walked in silence for a mile. The whispering had stopped completely.

  "So," Elias said, breaking the quiet. He needed to distract himself from the heat. "Tell me about this 'Golden Era' magic. You mentioned the Mana density was low?"

  Kael, the Mage, seemed to realize he was being addressed. He scurried forward, keeping a respectful distance.

  "Yes, Great One. The atmospheric mana has thinned since the… old times. We rely on the Great Leyline Towers now. They pump purified mana into the cities."

  "Pump it?" Elias frowned. "Like water?"

  "Exactly! And for personal advancement, we use the System Injection Rituals. The Church administers them once a year to level up our cores."

  Elias stopped. He looked at Kael with genuine pity.

  "You... inject mana?" Elias asked. "You don't just breathe it in?"

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  Kael looked confused. "Breathe it? But... raw mana is toxic. It causes Mana Burn."

  Elias blinked. He inhaled deeply. He felt the ambient mana of the world—thin, wispy, but flavorful—fill his lungs. It cycled through his core and settled into his reserves like a gentle rain.

  "Toxic," Elias repeated dryly. "Right."

  So, humanity had forgotten how to breathe. They were sipping mana through straws while drowning in an ocean.

  No wonder their levels were so low. They were malnourished.

  "We have arrived at the treeline!" Rylus announced, sounding desperate to change the subject. "Oakhaven is just through the—"

  SCREEEEEECH.

  A high-pitched shriek tore through the air. The trees ahead shook violently.

  A monster burst onto the path.

  It was a mantis. A green, chitinous insect standing eight feet tall, with scythe-arms that dripped sizzling acid. Its multi-faceted eyes locked onto the group, and it clicked its mandibles in hunger.

  "Ambush!" Rylus roared, drawing a backup sword (a rusty iron blade he must have had in his pack). "Defensive formation! It’s an Emerald Scythe-Mantis! Rank-A Threat!"

  "Rank-A!" the Archer yelled, panicking. "We need a Tank! Where is the Tank?"

  "I can't cast fast enough!" Kael cried, fumbling with his glitter-staff.

  Elias stared at the bug.

  "[Inspect]."

  Entity: [Garden Scythe-Mantis (Mutated)] Level: 85 Threat: Minimal Status: Hungry

  Level 85.

  In the Third Era, these were used to train children. Apprentice Librarians practiced their aim on them in the Academy gardens.

  "Rank-A?" Elias asked, raising an eyebrow. "For a weed whacker?"

  The Mantis didn't care about threat assessments. It lunged.

  Rylus stepped forward valiantly to intercept, but the Mantis backhanded him. The Knight flew twenty feet into a bush with a clatter of metal.

  BAAAMMMM----

  The Archer fired an arrow. It bounced harmlessly off the green carapace.

  The Mantis turned toward Elias. It screeched, spraying acid droplets that hissed on the ground near his boots.

  "I was asking," Elias said, his voice cold, "about the tea shops in Oakhaven."

  The Mantis lunged at him, scythes raised to decapitate.

  Elias didn't move. He didn't raise a shield. He didn't cast a fireball.

  Fireballs were messy. They left ash. And he had just pressed his robe.

  Instead, he reached into the archives of his mind, past the section on War Magic, past forbidden Void Arts, and settled on Library Sciences: Inventory Management.

  He pointed his staff at the mid-air monster.

  "[Sort]," he commanded.

  The spell was designed to organize books. It separated items by category: Author, Genre, Date.

  When applied to a living biological entity by a Level 1,492 Archivist, the System misinterpreted the request.

  It decided to sort the mantis by Component Material.

  SH-THWIP.

  There was no blood. No gore. No explosion.

  One moment, there was a screaming giant insect.

  The next moment, there were four neat, hovering piles floating in the air.

  The mantis was gone. It had been categorized.

  Elias looked at the floating piles. He nodded in satisfaction.

  "Much tidier," he said.

  He waved his hand, and the piles gently lowered to the grass.

  He turned to look at the adventurers.

  Rylus was hanging upside down in a bush. Kael had dropped his staff. The Archer was staring at the pile of cubed meat with a look of profound nausea.

  "Now," Elias said, dusting off his hands. "Is Oakhaven far? I'm getting thirsty."

  *****

  The town of Oakhaven was a collection of wooden buildings surrounded by a palisade wall that looked like it would fall over in a stiff breeze.

  To Elias, it looked like a slum. To the adventurers, it was safety.

  They approached the gate. Two guards in leather armor leaned on spears, looking bored. They straightened up when they saw Rylus’s battered armor.

  "Halt!" one guard barked. "State your business. Entry fee is five silver per head."

  Rylus opened his mouth to speak, but Elias stepped forward.

  "Five silver," Elias mused. "Reasonable."

  He reached into his Inventory. (His actual Inventory, not a bag). He rummaged around past the Scrolls of Armageddon and the Dragon Bones until he felt a coin.

  He pulled it out and flicked it to the guard.

  "Keep the change," Elias said.

  The guard caught it. He looked at the coin.

  It wasn't silver. It was a heavy, hexagonal coin made of a metal that shimmered with an inner rainbow light.

  Item: [Imperial Platinum Crown (3rd Era Mint)]

  In the current economy, one of these could probably buy the town. And the neighboring town. And possibly a small dukedom.

  The guard stared at it. Then he bit it. Then his eyes narrowed.

  "Counterfeit," the guard spat, dropping his hand to his sword hilt. "Trying to pass off fake currency? You think I'm stupid? This isn't King’s Silver!"

  "It is Platinum," Elias explained patiently. "From the Reign of Emperor Vane the Third."

  "Emperor who?" the guard scoffed. "Arrest them! Scammers!"

  The guards raised their spears.

  Elias felt that flare of irritation again. He raised his hand. Perhaps [Sort] would work on guards? He wondered if they would separate into [Stupidity] and [Armor].

  "NO!"

  Rylus, the Knight, threw himself between Elias and the guards. He looked like a man who was watching a child play with a loaded cannon.

  "Wait! Stop!" Rylus screamed, digging frantically into his own purse. He threw a handful of gold coins at the guards. Real, modern gold. "Here! Take it! Take all of it! Just let him in!"

  The guards paused, looking at the gold scattering in the dirt.

  "Sir Rylus?" the guard asked, confused. "Why are you paying for this beggar?"

  "He is not a beggar!" Rylus hissed, sweat pouring down his face. "He is... a visiting dignitary! From... the North! Very far North! Just open the gate before he classifies you!"

  "Classifies us?"

  "OPEN IT!"

  The guards shrugged, scooped up the gold, and opened the gate.

  Elias put his Platinum Crown back in his inventory. "How pathetic currency are stopped down to," he noted. "Another tragedy of this era."

  He walked through the gates.

  The town smelled of woodsmoke, unwashed bodies, and roasted meat. It was loud. It was dirty.

  But there, down the main street, hanging above a small shop with fogged windows, was a sign:

  Ye Olde Tea & Herbalist

  Elias stopped. A rare, genuine smile touched his lips.

  "Finally," he whispered. "Civilization."

  (Narrator's Note: The tea shop sold mostly dried mushrooms and a beverage made of boiled tree bark. Elias was about to be very disappointed.)

  Status Update Current Mood: Optimistic (Pre-Disappointment) Kill Count: 1 Mantis (Organized) Threat Level: Walking Natural Disaster