novelraw Chapter 11: Determination Comes from Within
Chapter 11: Determination Comes from Within
I knew that it would come to this.
Both Boris and Michelle had lives waiting for them back home. Being suddenly taken to this new reality must have filled them with immense anxiety, especially Michelle, who seemed to be two or three years younger than me.
“I have a sick father,” she said quietly. “My mother passed away when I was a child. I can’t stop thinking about him being alone…”
Boris’s expression hardened, her words clearly resonating with him. “That’s tough. My wife passed away years ago, and I’ve had no strong familial ties since. But I understand how it feels to worry about those you love.”
What was this, a sob story circle?
But their words made me think of my own past—a past shrouded in mystery. I was born an orphan, adopted by a family who only cared about the financial incentive of taking me in. When I finally tried to investigate my biological parents, I hit a dead end. No records. No names. It was as if I had appeared out of thin air.
Regardless, even if I wanted to comfort her, I didn’t want to tell a beautiful lie; I preferred telling the ugly truth. Giving her false hope would only backfire later, and the disappointment would cut even deeper.
“That’s what I wanted to talk about. Unfortunately, I haven’t discovered a way to return home.” I shook my head slowly in disappointment, much to her worry. “However, I do know one thing: Power is everything here. If we want to survive the scenarios, we need strength. And with enough power, perhaps one day, we’ll figure out a way back.”
That was the hard truth.
What good was knowing the way home if we didn’t survive long enough to use it? Even though I was aware of a few possible methods, I chose to keep that information to myself for now.
Michelle’s expression softened as she absorbed my words. A faint glimmer of hope replaced her earlier concern. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.
“Speaking of which,” Boris chimed in, his deep voice cutting through the moment, “while we were at the pub earlier, a group of five approached us—three men and two women. They invited us to join them in redoing the first scenario.”
I turned to him, intrigued. “And you think they’re trustworthy?”
He nodded. “After talking with them for a while, I believe they are. They’ve completed the first scenario three times already, which says a lot about their experience.”
Michelle added, “They seemed reliable to me, too.”
If both of them vouched for this group, I had no reason to doubt. It was crucial to have a failsafe, especially since repeating the first scenario was even harder than completing it the first time. In any case, this confirmed Boris and Michelle’s willingness and determination to keep challenging the scenarios. I had steered them in the right direction.
But…
“While I believe that these people can help us, there’s something that I want to achieve tomorrow in the first scenario. I’m also not confident if their intention is truly well and purely want to help us, even if they don’t mean bad. Besides, it would be much easier if it were only the three of us, as we could be more flexible and stealthier,” I said, finalizing the decision. I knew better than to rely solely on strangers.
The scenarios would only grow harder, and trust would become an even scarcer commodity. If I was going to survive—and lead—then I needed to stay sharp and keep away from an unpredictable element as much as possible. Power wasn’t just about strength; it was about control. And I intended to have both.
After convincing them by sharing my detailed plans for the first scenario tomorrow, we continued discussing our future here. I emphasized that challenging the scenarios was essential for growing stronger, but there were more ways to gain power than simply leveling up.
“Still…” Boris spoke up, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his chair. “I’ve been through real battlefields, lad. In war, power means nothing if you don’t have people who can take the hit with you. You’re smart—no doubt about that—but are you sure you ain’t overthinking this? Sometimes, having a few wildcards on your side makes the enemy think twice.”
It was the first time he had voiced anything close to doubt, and I appreciated it—more than I let on. I knew that since the first time I met him, Boris wasn’t the type to blindly obey. He had the experience, the grit, and a soldier’s instinct to push back when something didn’t sit right.
Michelle, on the other hand, remained thoughtful and listened attentively.
I met Boris’s eyes. “I get your point. But right now, we don’t need more firepower—we need control. The fewer moving pieces, the better. At least until we’ve gotten a grasp of the scenario layout.”
He exhaled, then gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if things don’t go our way, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’”
I cracked a small smile. “Deal.”
Before I could delve further into the long-term planning, dinner was served.
It was a humble meal: vegetable soup with bread and a mug of water for me and Michelle. But then, there was Boris’s dinner: a perfectly cooked steak with gravy sauce, a hearty meat-filled soup, baked potatoes, and bread as a complement, along with a large mug of booze. How could such unfair treatment happen right before my eyes? The sheer disparity in meals felt like a slap in the face.
Even Boris looked slightly taken aback.
“Lord Boris, if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask me, Nadia,” said the middle-aged lady who served our meals.
Boris blinked. “Sorry, young lady, but I’m faithful to my deceased wife.”
“That’s okay. I can be your second,” Nadia teased, winking and giving a playful wave before disappearing back into the kitchen.
“…” Words failed me.
Feeling guilty about the better meal, Boris offered to split his steak and some potatoes with us, which I accepted because, frankly, I was starving. Michelle, however, wasn’t thick-skinned enough to share in the feast. Overall, despite the odd turn of events, the meal was a tad satisfying.
After that, we went to our room. Of course, I didn’t forget to go to the toilet in the middle of the meal because I’d been holding it. Anyway, since Boris said that the bedroom was located upstairs, we climbed the creaky staircase to the second floor. The room was the third door on the left. It was moderate-sized, with three small beds with nightstands in between, a small partition to the outermost bed, and a tiny window that overlooked the dimly lit street. I sat on the middle bed and exhaled deeply.
“All right, let’s get to it,” I muttered, pulling out the crimson thornleaf and azure mistflower I’d bought earlier from the herb vendor.
Crimson Thornleaf
Grade: Common
Type: Magical Herb
A fiery herb known for enhancing physical vigor, but highly volatile on its own.
Azure Mistflower
Grade: Common
Type: Magical Herb
A delicate flower that boosts mental clarity but reacts explosively when combined with fiery or volatile substances.
Since I didn’t have proper alchemy tools, I had to make do with what I had. Earlier, I’d swiped the wooden mug and the small soup bowl. Not exactly the pinnacle of alchemical equipment, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. I placed them on the nightstand and lit the room’s single candle, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
Carefully, I crushed half of the crimson thornleaf inside the bowl, using the back of a spoon I’d “borrowed” along with the other items. Sticky red sap oozed out, staining the wood like blood. Next came the azure mistflower. I plucked and crumbled some of the delicate petals between my fingers, reducing them to a fine powder before adding them to the mug’s remaining water. Once mixed, I slowly poured the liquid into the bowl, letting it meld with the crimson sap.
Normally, mixing these volatile substances directly would usually result in a big explosion, but I used a balancing agent—the water—to slowly dilute them in specific proportions. It might seem ridiculously simple, but it was effective.
Once the concoction was mixed, I tilted the bowl over the candle’s flame, keeping it just far enough to avoid scorching either the concoction or the bowl. Aside from the balancing agent, the real key was heating it to the perfect temperature. Too hot, and it would still explode. Too cold, and it wouldn’t become anything at all. I had to make sure the liquid hovered right at its boiling point.
Sweat trickled down my forehead. Thankfully, I didn’t fail this time. As I kept it steady, the earthy, floral scent of the mixture filled the air, and the liquid began to shimmer with faint streaks of violet.
Boris, sprawled on his bed, squinted at me. “What are you doing over there? Some kind of experiment?”
Michelle peeked over, her eyes wide. “It looks like one of those fake elixirs alchemists sell to trick villagers.”
I chuckled. “Hardly. This is something I learned about in the library. It’s real, just watch.” To an observer, the process might appear amateurish, but the final result defied conventional alchemical knowledge.
Soon, the liquid in the bowl turned translucent, glowing faintly with a pale violet hue, then I set the bowl down to cool. After a few moments, I carefully poured the liquid into the mug. Holding it up to the candlelight, I admired the result. Crude, but it was a success.
You have successfully concocted an uncommon-grade elixir: the Elixir of Harmonic Balance.
Basic Alchemy skill has leveled up.
Elixir of Harmonic Balance
Grade: Uncommon
Type: Elixir
A carefully crafted elixir that blends volatile and harmonious elements, creating a balanced essence that enhances the user’s performance.
Temporarily amplifies stat growth during training, allowing the user to gain up to 120% more effectiveness in all physical and mental stats for six hours.Without hesitation, I drank the elixir I made in one big gulp. Shit! It’s so bitter! Despite swallowing it quickly, the acrid taste stubbornly lingered on my tongue, making me wince.
“A-Are you sure drinking that is safe?” Michelle asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
“Of cour—” I began, but my voice faltered as a sudden heat surged through my body, spreading from my core to every extremity. My muscles tensed involuntarily, and a strange vitality coursed through me. My skin felt like it was radiating warmth, though not unpleasantly so.
I exhaled sharply, shaking off the intensity. “It’s working.” As I said that, I took out the Shrouding Coat and draped it over my shoulders, feeling the beads of sweat forming on my brow.
“What’s working?” Boris asked in confusion.
I just smiled and stepped to the empty space between two beds. Dropping into a push-up position, I began the muscle training with a steady rhythm. My arms moved with surprising ease, each repetition feeling lighter and more controlled than usual. As someone who occasionally hit the gym back in my previous life, I was no stranger to this exercise.
This wasn’t Earth. This was the world of Divine Will, the game I had forged with my own hands. And now, I was nothing more than a pawn—the lowest-ranked divine warrior—summoned into a game I had once ruled. To beings like Istellia, the Goddess of Imagination, I was nothing but a speck of dust. For them, we were disposable soldiers and the next meal for the countless monsters lurking in the scenarios.
But I refused to accept that fate!
I pushed harder with each repetition as my determination flared up. I would become stronger. I would survive. I had to uncover the truth behind my reincarnation, and most of all, I would reclaim the throne that had been taken from me. None of that would be possible if I remained weak.