Your Shadow Is My Light

Chapter 4 - I want to go back with you...

Normal text
Thinking
Onomatopoeia

Rayne's POV
I fidgeted unnaturally, shifting the baldric on my waist. It's like a deadweight, constantly messing up my balance. My centre of gravity felt so lopsided with the hefty scabbard pulling down my left side. Made worse by drowsiness and exhaustion. All of which weren't good signs for my first dungeon expedition. I hissed when the belt dug into the same spot again. The rough leather material has been scrapping my skin for the past 30 minutes. And the soreness was getting worse. No doubt there's probably a giant bruise there. I adjusted the strap again, distributing the painful weight away from the stinging laceration.

A sigh came out.

Why can't I do anything well?

For the past few days, we were being indoctrinated by their system. A fixed schedule was imposed unilaterally-mages were in charge of imparting common sense (and 'demons are bad 101') while the palace knights let us dabble in weapons to find our calling. Although the theoretical lessons weren't too difficult to follow along-just memorise a bunch of fantasy elements-the practical side of things was where I struggled most. My vehement refusal to be a necromancer meant that I at least have to be good at some other weapon. But that plan hasn't been working out so far.

Unlike others who were somehow talented in a weapon they've never touched once in all 18 years of their lives, I couldn't find one that wouldn't make me trip or accidentally cut myself. The katana was too long and heavy for me to swing nimbly. I was pretty shit at the bow with my horrible aim. Don't even mention the axe with its short reach and my equally short arms. Despite my high MP stat, I strangely have zero affinity for other magic variants. It's as if all the mana was locked behind commanding a death army, something Will never failed to rub it in my face.

I remembered feeling desperate, repeatedly trying out every weapon in the arena over and over again. Poring over grimoires for simple spells like creating a spark of ember. Anything! I just need something! A gimmick to protect myself in this harsh world. But even that reality wouldn't give me. It just kept pouring cold water. I was doomed to be just as useless as that game system. Besides giving me migraines from the bloodlust notifications, the trashy system hasn't panned out at all. What's the point of being the only one to possess such lucrative cheats when I can't even reliably earn EXP??? Why? Why must that hippy goddess do this to me??? Is my hero dream destined to go up in flames before it even started???

To make matters worse, while I had to endure contempt from the palace goons during the day, nighttime wasn't treating me well either. I couldn't sleep peacefully. Not once since the day I was stranded here. Because I need my sleeping pills. Without them, the nightmares would haunt me every night. I tried inquiring from the mages but they only looked at me with an astonished expression. Like I'm some demented patient wanting to die in my sleep. This stupid world has mythical dragons and yet didn't have something as simple as sleeping magic??? Where's the logic???

None of them were willing to help so I was left to deal with my insomnia alone. But I'm not sure how long I could last like this. In fact, I'm starting to have a phobia of nightfall. Worried that a certain bastard would terrorise me in my sleep.

"Gather around," the field instructor hollered.

All of us assembled at the arched entryway bordering the capital city. Of course, it also came with a familiar elbow in the ribs. I pursed my lips and inched away from that fucker. I can't afford to get injured when we're soon departing to hell.

"We're dealing with a C-rank insect dungeon today. The main boss is the Giant Arachnid Buryura."

There were rounds of thrilled chatter before the instructor signal for silence.