Tutorial Rewrite 58 (Patreon)

H-, hang on, this is completely new! I mean, sure, I could understand what Simel was saying and everything the people in the conference were saying as though it was all my own language, but this is different!

…It feels like I’m not supposed to have access to this kind of information. Isn’t this, I dunno, secret?

Well, apparently not, because I can read it just fine. And now that I can actually understand it, it’s actually even less useful than before, somehow. I mean, And to a place I come where nothing shines? What is this even for? Yeah, nothing shines here, because the sun was gone. What did you expect, man?

But now the sun is back, so there’s no need to worry. Yup. None at all.

<You have learned:

Regeneration Meditation Lv.10>

<You have learned:

Moving Meditation Lv.1>

Ohh, nice! New skill!

…What does it do?

<[Moving Meditation (Lv.1)]

The effects of [Regeneration Meditation]

can be used even while not actively meditating.

Requires strong concentration and mental focus.>

Ohh, useful! From what I can see, I still have regeneration meditation too, so if I use them both at the same time, my regeneration speed can increase massively!

To test things, I do the old test of trying out how fast different injuries heal with or without everything. With just moving meditation, I regenerate with an extra speed of about 10%. Combined with regeneration meditation too, I get twice that, putting me at a total recovery speed of 220%! If I can get moving meditation high enough, I’ll be unstoppable…!

The only problem is that, as the description says, it drains my mental energy like crazy. So even though I want to use it constantly, if I do so, I might get stuck in some half-zen drooling state. Even though it hurts, I’ll have to stick with only using this in battle, if I really need it.

But, after an hour or so of testing out my meditation healing techniques, I can finally say that my body has fully healed. My fingers are back and so are my toes, and the teeth that fell out are back, too.

In other words, it’s time for me to head out and try to find that unhappy king of poets, or whatever. I can’t smell him or anything, but I’ve got good reason to expect him inside this very castle. I mean, really, where else would he be?

Getting to my feet, I briefly consider just jumping down the side of the castle so I can enter it properly through the front door, but after remembering that my falling tolerance isn’t even a resistance yet, I decide to just take the stairs.

Down winding stairs, through countless slim hallways, poking my head into look-holes and small closets, oohing and aahing like a tourist, accidentally exiting the castle through a window and falling two storeys before entering through the main entrance normally, wandering around a bit more, and after what feels like at least half a day, I finally find the throne room.

“Took you long enough to get here, friend,” some guy with an annoying voice says as I open the door. My eyes fall to the long red carpet lying on the floor, and I look the whole length of the room until my gaze finally lands on the guy himself. He grins at me. “You don’t seem especially surprised by my appearance.”

Um, no.

In front of me, sitting on a throne of wood and wearing a crown of olive leaves, is me. Except I’m twice as tall and five times beefier. At either side of the throne stands a guard, just as big, both carrying a shield each. Now that I look at it, the poet king, as he must be, has a sword in his lap. Just lying there.

<The Poet King (Lv.28) [BOSS]>

<Guard (Lv.25) [BOSS]>

<Guard (Lv.25) [BOSS]>

I glance at my status.

<Top—Status—Community>

<PrissyKittyPrincess

Human Level 23

Strength: 47

Agility: 79

Stamina: 73

Magic Power: 32>

…I was actually feeling pretty confident about my level before this, but it seems I might be just a little under-leveled. Should I have tried to kill all of the shades before coming here? Hm. Not sure.

On the other side of the room, the poet king gives a massive wave of his hand. Man, he’s huge, alright.

“Come, now. Speak with me, won’t you? You have nothing to fear.”

Hm. He isn’t being too aggressive or anything, but I should still keep my distance. Still, if talking to him can give me some sort of opening to strike, then I will do so. “Who are you?”

“Who am…?” He chuckles, deeply, with mirth my voice shouldn’t be capable of. This is super weird. I really, really hate the sound of my voice coming out of him like that. It’s like listening to your voice in a recording, but even worse, because he’s saying things I wouldn’t say. His eyes gleam. “What does the little box say I am?”

I try to stand my ground by straightening my back, but I’ve got a permanent gamer hunch, so all I can do is stand slightly taller. “You know about the system?”

“Of course I do, friend!” he says warmly, waving his hands about. “Am I not borne of this great all-mother, as you are to be shaped by that same all-father?”

I stare at him. “Okay, before you go any further, I kind of need you to define whether you’re describing the system as like some sort of Gaia-like mother or if it’s a father kind of guy, because saying they’re both is very strange, but if you want to I’ll totally accept that it would be like something completely different, but calling it both a mother and a father isn’t, like, suitable. Make up your mind, weirdo.”

His smile doesn’t even waver slightly. “It has birthed us and it has moulded us. Comparing it to a human mother and father is simply a metaphor. In truth, it can hardly be compared to either one, but rather an amalgamation of bo—”

Chance!

I leap from where I stand but the second I get even slightly close, I slam into a pair of wall-like shields, making my ears ring and my brain quake. Okay. Okay. Okay. Um.

<You have learned:

Concussion Tolerance Lv.1>

From a gap between the shields, I can see the poet king’s eye glinting with mischievousness. The two guards step back to their positions and I fall to the floor with a splat.

“Why don’t you calm down for a second, my friend? There is no reason to hurry this.”

“My clear achievement is to kill you,” I groan as I pull myself back up. “You should know that, right?”

“Of course I know that,” he replies as though we’re talking about the colour of the sky. “I was made to be defeated. Or, to defeat you. In that case, I would simply die to the next challenger.”

He’s playing with me. He wants to talk. I don’t, but I need another chance. I’m closer to him now. The next time, I’ll be able to get to him.

“Plenty of people in the tutorial have passed this floor before,” I say. “Shouldn’t you have been killed by them already?”

He waves his hand like it doesn’t even matter, and as though the question is frivolous at best. “Those challengers simply killed my brothers. I am the poet king of the Hell Difficulty, not of the others.” His face lights up. “And, until now, you are my first visitor.” His expression falters a little, his mirthful smile taking on notes of tragedy. “And, possibly, my last.”

“And why should I be your last?” I ask, not daring to consider the fact that I’m supposed to be the first. Somewhere deep inside, I hope, maybe stupidly so, that he’s only the poet king for the Asia server.

His large, almost ancient-looking eyes look me up and down, from my bloodied, bluish feet to my yellowed eyes. A little sigh escapes his lips.

“To be frank with you, my friend,” his eyes pierce through me, “the Hell Difficulty was never meant to be possible for your sort.”

…Huh?

Something hollow settles into the pit of my stomach. “What?” a voice that might be my own says. It’s hoarse. “What do you mean by that?”

He shakes his mighty head. “It is very simple. From what the rulers of this tutorial could understand, beating Hard was as high as you could go. And this is not strictly in terms of your body, and your physique. You were chosen for your large, highly metabolic bodies, but here, it is not your bodies that break with the strain. It is your mind.” I can feel my own head shaking, all on its own. Words and accusations are trying to make their way out of my throat but they won’t emerge. “I had not expected to be met with anyone, as low as my floor is. Though, looking at you, I’m starting to hope that you make it no further.”

His eyes burn with cold fire. I can feel sweat bead along my back.

“If you defeat me now, eventually, I believe that you will wish you hadn’t.”

That isn’t true. That’s false. He’s wrong. That isn’t the case. He’s just making things up. He’s trying to demoralise me. That’s what he’s doing. That’s it.

He leans back on his throne. “But it doesn’t need to go that way, my friend. The next attempt will begin in only a week. If you stay here with me, in my castle, I will not harm a hair on your head, and when the timer runs out, and you are returned to your lobby, you may start this floor over again. You’ve made your way through the blind forest once. You can do so again. Return here, and we may continue our chat. I will remember you. You need not die, for if you continue beyond this, even if you should defeat me, even if you should defeat the floors that come next, at some point, you will reach a moment when you will wish you had died earlier.”