Calling upon his status, Jaune took a moment to analyze his improvements.
...
Jaune Arc
Level 4
Swordsman(EX)
...
Str: 26(+3)
Con: 25(+3)
Agi: 31(+3)
Int: 15(+1)
Wis: 16(+1)
Wil: 8(+4)
...
Aur: 2(+1)
...
Jaune took a moment to reflect on his recent level-up, musing over the subtle intricacies it brought forth. As a swordsman, he knew well the expectations of his class—strength, constitution, and agility were the pillars of his growth. However, something caught his attention this time around. Willpower, typically an area of slow progress, had surged by a staggering four points. It left him wondering if this sudden surge was a consequence of his changed persona and soul. If so, it could be a valuable advantage, especially since melee fighters often struggled with their willpower growth.
The thought briefly carried him back to his former self, a shy and unassuming individual who often blended into the background.
But now, his aura stat had also grown, effectively refilling him with a revitalizing energy that had depleted during his recent endeavors.
It was a relief to discover that the growth of his aura appeared to be linear, rather than the unpredictability of exponential or quadratic growth.
Although, he couldn't help but entertain the idea that exponential growth might have its own benefits, as many believed it to be the strongest force in the universe.
With his status analyzed and understood, Jaune shifted his focus to the surrounding environment. He found himself standing in the heart of a picturesque clearing, embraced by a forest of swaying trees.
Their graceful dance in the cold wind carried an air of both beauty and foreboding. Jaune couldn't help but acknowledge the uncertainty that loomed over his journey. His aura would provide some protection, but after spending three days in the unfamiliar forest, he questioned the wisdom of embarking on this adventure without a solid plan.
Yet, a compelling instinct urged Jaune to press on and reach Beacon as quickly as possible. The timeline he had to follow remained hazy, teasing him with ambiguity. Fortunately, Jaune possessed an extraordinary sense of direction, guiding him towards the next town with ease. It would be a day's journey, a beacon of hope, if you will, amidst the challenges he faced.
Unfortunately, he had already lost his only weapon, a training sword gifted to him by his father. Though its practicality was limited, its sentimental value made its absence keenly felt.
Thoughts of his father stirred a twinge of frustration within Jaune. If only his father had provided the resources and support he needed, perhaps he wouldn't find himself in this predicament. Nevertheless, Jaune recognized that complaining would serve no purpose in his current situation. The only viable option was to keep moving forward, facing whatever obstacles lay ahead.
With renewed determination, Jaune rose from the forest floor, stirring the dried leaves with his decisive motion. A subtle stretch of his shoulders served as a physical reassurance, though his aura, ever vigilant, flowed through his body, mending any lingering injuries. It gradually refilled to seventy-five percent of its maximum capacity, evoking a confident grin.
The true potential of his aura now revealed itself—a passive healing factor that, with persistent training, would elevate his abilities far beyond those of his peers. It was a remarkable advantage, especially considering the inherent limitations imposed on physical strength in this world.
Scanning his surroundings, Jaune surveyed the area with a keen eye. Though no menacing Grimm creatures lurked nearby, he recognized the importance of arming himself for the inevitable encounters that lay ahead.
His gaze settled upon the remnants of his broken training sword, its hilt protruding from the ground like a forgotten relic. The blade, a mere eight centimeters in length, bore slight chips along its edge. In truth, it was hardly a weapon capable of fending off even the feeblest of beowolves, the weakest among the grimm.
Engaging his resourceful mind, Jaune cast his eyes about, seeking out sizeable stones amidst the terrain. Grabbing the empty sack that once held provisions for his journey, he deftly fastened it around the hilt of the sword. Tightly bundling the cloth and nestling the stones within, Jaune stepped back to assess his creation.
A grimace tugged at his features as he beheld the haphazard amalgamation before him. The makeshift weapon resembled a malformed snake, attempting to devour a goat but tragically meeting its demise as the goat took to breakdancing within its stomach. Frankly, it was far from an aesthetic marvel. Yet, despite its unappealing appearance, Jaune hoped it would serve its purpose.
"This won't last long," Jaune admitted to himself, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and determination. "It's good for one, maybe two strikes before the cloth tears and the stones spill out. Let's hope I don't encounter any grimm along the way."
Pausing for a moment, Jaune closed his eyes, offering a silent prayer to the divine force that had orchestrated his transmigration. "Reincarnation god...uh... please guide me on this journey," he entreated, his heart filled with an earnest plea. "Grant me safe passage, free from any of the clutches of the creatures of grimm, as I make my way to the next town, which is about day's travel away."
With his supplication complete, Jaune adjusted his improvised weapon and set forth in the direction he believed the next town, Ansel, to be. Confirming his route by measuring the position of the sun, he embarked on his arduous trek.
...
[A couple hours later]
...
Jaune gasped for breath, his weary form inching forward with metaphorical labor. Having depleted his meager supply of food and subsisted on foraged mushrooms, he found himself plagued by hunger and physical weakness. The sight of the town gates, crowned by towering walls, offered a welcome respite for his exhausted psyche.
The past ten hours had been a grueling ordeal. Misfortune had beset him as he encountered not one, but two Grimm creatures. The first, a solitary Beowolf, fell victim to Jaunes' ingenuity as he cunningly bashed its head with his improvised weapon. However, this victory came at the cost of his makeshift sling-club, leaving him defenseless once more.
An hour later, fate crossed his path with an Ursa, a formidable bear-like Grimm. Stronger and hardier than a Beowolf, it matched Jaunes' speed, posing a grave threat. Realistically, he knew he was at a disadvantage, but fortune smiled upon him in the form of his protective Aura. It shielded him from the bear's mighty blows, allowing him to adopt a strategy of climbing the forest trees and patiently waiting out the creature's assault.
Through countless repetitions of this life-saving tactic, Jaune managed to evade the Ursas' relentless pursuit. Fatigued and drained, the creature eventually grew bored and wandered off. Although this unconventional approach expedited his journey to Ansel, it left him utterly spent, his weary body yearning for respite.
Reflecting on the harrowing encounter, Jaune couldn't
help but marvel at the indispensable role his Aura played in preserving his life and endurance. Without its shielding embrace and rejuvenating properties, he would have succumbed to the formidable Ursa. The experience reaffirmed Jaunes' dire need for a proper weapon, one that could bolster his chances against the perils that awaited him.
Shaking off his ruminations, Jaune snapped back to the present as he approached the imposing gates of Ansel. Two guards stood watch, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight, a testament to their strength and expertise. One of them, catching sight of Jaune, raised a commanding hand, signaling him to halt.
"Stop! Who goes there?" the guard called out, his voice brimming with authority.
Jaune hesitated for a brief moment, his gaze instinctively darting upward to the name inscribed above the guard's head.
...
Warrior
Bolo Malto
...
Summoning his courage, Jaune parted his lips to respond, his voice carrying a mix of weariness and determination.