I sigh in annoyance, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. If I can get rid of my potential follower fast, then I won’t have to worry for the rest of the journey.
My plan made, I ditch the marked road and cut through the tall trees on the side. At first, I increase my speed, but as the terrain becomes rougher, I slow my stride.
From the corner of my eye I see the same movements as before. Flashes of material and the outline of a silhouette.
I suppose this confirms it. Yet it indicates another thing: this person is either a low-level individual or one without powers at all. Otherwise I doubt that I, with my lack of abilities, would have been able to spot him. The mere fact that I noticed his presence means he’s not someone overly powerful. That doesn’t mean he’snot stronger than me. Frankly, in my current condition, I’m only slightly better than a mortal male. Even if he were at level one or two, that would still be far above me.
As those thoughts form in my head, I decide to keep going and monitor the situation; perhaps even play a trick or two on him.
It’s becoming darker out. I estimate there to be two more hours of light. With this path being more dangerous than the regular one, I will need to stop for the night. That means I have two hours to deal with my follower.
I keep walking, though my attention is entirely on the figure behind me. But the more I focus on him, the more I start questioning my initial assessment. With the trees becoming sparser, it’s getting harder for him to get lost behind the trunks.
Soon, I can make out his silhouette quite well and… It’s rather small. I might be regarding him only from a distance, but it seems to me he’s rather slim and short; a good two or three heads shorter than me, if not more.
The trees become scattered and far between. The foliage is also thinning. I can now see him clearly. He’s around one hundred steps behind me. I don’t think he knows that I noticed him yet, which makes him either the worst stalker in the world, or not a stalker at all.
That theory solidifies when he trips on the uneven stones and falls to his knees. A small, barely audibleaghreaches my ears.
My lips curl up in amusement just as the tension in my shoulders subsides. I doubt some experienced agent would not only be giving himself away so easily but would also be this clumsy.
I’m forced to come up with a new theory. Since I did not notice himbeforethe tavern, he could have simply been going in the same direction as me. Perhaps he’s another adventurer bound for Horan Forest in search of mythical beasts and hethought he might have a better chance of getting there by following me.
As I walk, I continue to observe him. His movements are getting sluggish—he’s tired. An immortal wouldnotbe tired. But he doesn’t stop; he keeps up with me even though he’s clearly close to his limit.
That makes me feel sad for him. Perhaps heissomeone in a similar situation as me: trying his luck to change his fate. For that reason, I’m not going to do anything to him; nor am I going to approach him unless he does it first.
Now that I’m less stressed about my stalker situation I can focus on finding a place to stay the night. According to my map, the area I spotted before is close by. There’s even a small spring nearby so I can wash up.
When I reach the spot, I pull out some items from the proto-realm and arrange my sleeping area. It takes me half an hour to figure out how to set up my tent, after which I arrange my sleeping bag and the blankets. Done, I breathe a sigh of relief.
It’s my first foray into nature, but so far it’s not so bad.
Then I remember it’s been hours since I last ate. My stamina levels are running low so I should get some nourishment before I go to sleep.
I get some dried branches from my surroundings and dump them a few steps from the tent before I set them on fire. Sparks crackle as the fire becomes more alive by the second. From my proto-realm, I remove some meat and bread.
As I tend to the food, a loud noise erupts in the stillness of the night. I frown. Iamhungry, but I am notthatfamished. A subsequent sound reaches my ears, and I realize it must be my little follower.
I open my mouth to invite him to eat with me, but then I close it. It’s clear he doesn’t want to be known otherwise he would have introduced himself far earlier.
I start eating, but the noises continue.
Closing my eyes, I sigh. Why is it that I feel guilty for eating myownfood?
“I should find some more wood for the fire,” I mutter, loud enough for my little follower to hear.
Slowly, I walk away from the tent and find a bigger tree trunk to hide.
Then I wait. A few seconds later, a small figure descends upon my campsite. The same hat, coat and glasses from before confirm the identity. My little follower helps himself to some of the foods I left before going back to the shadows.
I shake my head. Somehow this fellow amuses me. At least his coat seems thick enough so he might not freeze to death tonight.
Now that I’ve done my charity for the day, I return to my fire to eat. I finish the remaining bread and meat and get inside the tent.
As I get comfortable, I close my eyes and try to sleep. Normally, being this tired would knock me out instantly. But the smell and feel of sweat under my clothes makes me feel rather disgusting.
I twist and turn, but I realize I won’t get proper rest unless I do something about it.
