I have no mana left, and I'm drenched in the blood of this damn beast; it won't be long before another monster shows up to eat me. But before that, I gotta eat too.
With this thought, he got up and, with what little mana he had left, summoned a small knife. This one was considerably sharper than his crudely made sword.
The knife closely resembled the kitchen knife he had once stolen and used to stab himself many times before—except this one was made of hardened rock instead of metal.
Stabbing the wolf a couple of times and lifting it into the air with three spikes he had conjured from the earth, he let the remaining blood drain while foraging for wood, hoping to start a fire.
Now how does one start a fire without a lighter?
While he had learned how to survive in the wilderness during his time in the army, he hadn't paid much attention in class and had mostly learned through hands-on experience. One thing he had always carried with him was a lighter.
Being stuck with an earth attribute, he couldn't even wash himself or start a simple fire.
All I can think of is starting the fire with friction. At least I used to try as a child.
After piling up the wood and bringing some larger pieces, he picked up his trusty knife and began slicing away very thin shavings—so thin they were almost see-through.
Every time the stone knife chipped, he reinforced it again, refusing to let his mana reserves recover.
Eventually, he had a small pile of very thin wood.
This'll be for starting the fire.
Then he took the knife and carved a small line, about a centimeter deep and five centimeters long.
Picking up a short but sturdy stick, he began to rub the crevice furiously. Before long, smoke started to rise, and the smell of burning wood filled the air.
The shavings created from the rubbing began to blacken—this was the moment Roland had been waiting for.
Quickly, he dumped the slices of wood on top and began to blow. A crackle and an orange glow began to spread from the center.
Soon, there was fire. Roland kept adding smaller, then larger pieces of wood to let the flames develop properly.
The reason he had done it so masterfully was because of his teenage obsession with cooking over fire. With the experience he had gained back then, he could control the flame with ease.
Lowering the wolf, he began cutting the meat while occasionally adding fuel so the fire wouldn't die out.
With the stone sticks he had previously conjured, and after cutting the meat into rough cubes, he skewered two sticks' worth—enough for a three-year-old.
Separating a bit of charcoal from the fire, he used earth magic to make a thin rectangular stand so that the skewers would rest right above the flames.
His meal was done cooking in around twenty minutes.
After letting the meat cool for a bit, he grabbed one of the sticks and took a bite. Without condiments, he had expected the meat to taste awful—but it didn't. In fact, it was great. Juicy, tender, almost melting in his mouth.
Maybe it tasted better because he'd killed the wolf himself, but no one could really tell.
After finishing his hearty meal, he let out a sigh and looked up at the stars, thinking about how beautiful they truly were.
"Wait… stars? What stars? When did it get so dark?"
Snapped out of his reverie, a sudden realization hit—he was still covered in the beast's blood, hadn't washed, and, perhaps more importantly, hadn't had a sip of water since morning.
Cursing under his breath, he muttered, "Man, I'm thirsty."
"I can't really do anything about that right now. I just need to sleep. I'm sure I can figure it out in the morning."
With the small amount of mana he'd recovered, he built a tent-shaped dome using earth magic and spawned a clone to watch over him through the night.
He had grown proficient enough that one clone could last around eight hours without using too much mana—so little that his sleeping self would actually regain mana rather than lose it.
With that thought, he laid his head down and drifted into sleep.