Chapter 42: Porter

"I know all these changes have taken their toll on your mind, but don’t resort to deceit like this, or very soon, you will die a terrible death following this dark path," the man had said.

Frost had been devastated. How was it that his status showed he had an affinity, but the machines said he didn’t? In his panic, he had come up with a theory...

Void was nothingness in its essence, at least that was how he understood it, even though he was just grasping at straws.

So, what if the machines were detecting his affinity but reading it as nothingness!?

He had thought it was a reasonable explanation, but unfortunately, when he explained it to Harod, the man had said there was no such thing. So, for the moment, Frost had been declared a crazy person!

Perhaps Jason would have laughed at him if he were still in the slums, but that bastard had moved into the city with the others.

They were almost certainly living well right now, while he was out here suffering.

Unfortunately, without learning any runes, he couldn’t display any sort of power to prove that he had an affinity, so he was stuck, getting left behind while the others progressed.

He had tried the guilds again, but it seemed word had already spread through their circles about some affinityless earthling who kept looking for a guild to take him in.

To them, his return with claims of having discovered an affinity was just another futile attempt at something he wasn’t capable of. Yep... They didn’t believe him.

For the past three weeks, his life had revolved around trying to find a guild that would take him in and doing whatever dirty jobs he could find to earn a bit of money.

Of course, he had also checked the registry for any sign of his mother, but unfortunately, her name hadn’t come up.

Even after new arrivals stopped coming in, he still went back once every three days, hoping something would change.

Not knowing where she was had been grating on his mind as well.

He had already been told that Linden was one of twelve major cities in this world, and that people from Earth had been scattered across them, so she could be somewhere far from here.

His only chance was to get stronger and earn enough money to travel around the world looking for her, because, well, using those teleportation platforms was expensive as hell.

Unfortunately, knowing what he needed to do didn’t make the pack any lighter, and whatever grand plans Frost had for the future were currently being crushed beneath its weight.

At the moment, he would have happily postponed finding his mother, learning runes, and becoming stronger if someone would just give him a cup of water and let him sit down for five minutes.

His foot caught on a stone, and for one terrible moment, his body leaned farther forward than he could manage.

He staggered, trying to straighten himself, but the pack had already decided where it wanted to go, dragging him down until one knee struck the ground.

A pained grunt escaped him as he caught himself with both hands, his fingers scraping against the dirt.

The five people ahead continued walking for a few steps before the human woman glanced back.

"Your porter is falling over," she said, drawing the others’ attention, though Frost was too busy trying to breathe to appreciate being referred to as someone’s property.

Krazz turned around and threw his hands up. "See? What did I tell you?" he demanded, looking at the man who had hired Frost. "We haven’t even reached the hunting grounds!"

"He tripped," the man replied, though his defence sounded a little weak when Frost attempted to stand and immediately sank back onto his knees. After a brief hesitation, he walked over and crouched beside him. "Come on, kid. We’re almost there."

Frost slowly raised his head, staring at him through the sweat dripping into his eyes.

He wanted to ask whether the man’s understanding of almost was different from his own, because he had been hearing those words for what felt like an eternity now, but all that came out of his mouth was a dry, pitiful wheeze.

"He needs water," Erzaci said, stepping closer and taking a waterskin from her side. "Unless you want to carry him along with the pack, let him rest for a moment."

"I’m not carrying him," Krazz said immediately, folding his arms. "If he can’t walk, he can go back."

"With what strength?" the human woman asked, looking at Frost before turning back to Krazz. "If he could make it back on his own, he probably wouldn’t be sitting there looking like that."

While they argued, the bear-like man reached down and lifted the pack off Frost’s back with one hand.

The sudden relief was so great that Frost almost fell forward again, his body taking a moment to understand that it no longer had to fight against the weight.

He remained on his hands and knees, breathing heavily while the big guy set the pack beside him as casually as if it contained nothing more than spare clothes.

Frost stared at it, then at the furry hand that had lifted it, and briefly wondered whether he had somehow offended the gods in his previous life.

There was simply no other reasonable explanation for why that man could carry his suffering around with one hand.

"Drink slowly," Erzaci said, holding the waterskin out to him. "And don’t finish it."

Frost took it with trembling hands and pressed the opening to his lips.

The first mouthful almost made him cough, but he forced himself to slow down, swallowing carefully as the water washed through his dry mouth and throat.

It was warm and tasted faintly of leather, but at that moment, he could have sworn nothing on Earth had ever tasted better.

"Thank you," he managed after a few mouthfuls, reluctantly returning it.

His voice sounded terrible, but at least words were coming out now, which was an improvement over whatever dying animal noises he had been making before.

Erzaci took the waterskin and secured it at her side. "Next time, speak up before you reach this point," she said, her tongue briefly flicking between her lips.

Frost nodded, though he wasn’t entirely certain when he was supposed to have spoken up. Before Krazz declared him useless, or after Krazz declared him useless?

There had been quite a few declarations along the way, and he would have hated to interrupt such an important discussion.

The man who had hired him offered a hand, helping him onto his feet once his breathing had settled. "Can you keep going?" he asked, glancing at the pack.

"Yeah," Frost said, because the other answer meant returning to the slums without any money.

His legs were still trembling, and his knee throbbed where it had struck the ground, but he reached for the straps before anyone could decide he was too much trouble.

The bear-like man held the pack up while Frost slipped his arms through, lowering it gradually onto his back.

Even with the help, Frost’s knees nearly gave way when the full weight settled onto his shoulders, but he managed to remain standing, gripping the straps as if that would somehow make the load easier to bear.

Krazz watched him for a moment before turning away with a grunt. "Let’s move. We’ve wasted enough time already."