Far From Vanilla: Modded Game Reincarnation

A man ran with all his might, his boot stomping hard on the groud as he desperately tried to get away. He grabbed anything he could to throw at his ill-willing follower. He grit his teeth and kept running, his breath now turning into puffs of air in the chilly night sky, but as he turned a corner-- his fate was sealed.

A dead end was all that awaited him in the dark, and before he could turn around to double-back, his tired self was met by someone not even perturbed by the chase.

“Really? Two silvers for you?” I chuckled, “Kind of expensive, if I can say so myself. Are you really worth that much?”

“Shut up!” 

Shing!

A flash of cold steel rushed from my right, but a simple backstep was all it took to dodge. 

“It’s way too late for you to start screaming, don’t you think?”

Clang!

A single strike from my sword was all it took to shatter his own. “I-Impossible! My sword–” He gasped. 

“Don’t make this worse for yourself.”

“Shut it!” He yelled again, “Just cuz’ you have some power you think you’re better than me!? You green-horned mercenary!”

I looked at the criminal with bored eyes. “Yes.” I replied simply, “Plus, you’re way to stupid. The only reason why you’re on the list is because of that.”

I stepped forward to deliver a punch straight into his face, knocking him out. I watched the criminal not visibly older than thirty on the ground, limbs sprawled about. He was registered in the [Bingo Book] as a low-level threat.

His crimes were long but not very unique with Murder, rape, and theft being repeated. There were also counts of identity theft, but that was buried down the list. Even if he stole the identity of someone else, his face was already thoroughly documented.

It has been a week since I was discharged from the Church Ward. Since then I’ve been studying the world around me. It’s funny really. I kept telling myself that this world wasn’t a game, but I still acted like it was. 

Even if I reiterate this fact, the outcome of me being placed in life or death situations would never change. All it took was a boy who didn’t know any better to be threatened that I’m not getting my act together.

“Don’t get conceited, boy. You’re simply a large fish in a small pond.”

“I know that, damn it.” I hissed, “You think small-fries like this are enough to even threaten me?”

I've faced hordes upon hordes of undead until I was an inch away from death, I managed to out negotiate a Dragon trapped inside a book, and bested an powerful adventurer (through sheer dumb luck).

But regardless of how my victories were achieved, the fact doesn't change. I've danced with death enough to know what it looks like. Small fry who only know how to fight against weaker opponents wouldn’t understand how to win against those stronger than them.

“Regardless, boy, did you commit your learning into memory?”

“Obviously,” I scoffed, tying a rope around the unconscious man’s body. “Even if they’re small fry, they're still more experienced than me. You were right, mercenary work is good money.”

“As if there was a sliver of a doubt. Now hurry home, we have more matters to study.”

Strict as always.

 “Right away, Sir.”

[]

I sat in my room in the inn in front of the table tucked next to my bed. There was a large steak meal on the side, steaming away, losing heat, but I couldn’t care less. I needed to keep my routine.

“Is this necessary, boy? You know you have me to record your every move.”

“Entry #40…” I sighed again. This conversation happens once every three days. “Like I said, If I can live up to a thousand years–”

“Cycles. Get it right, boy.” The Journal corrected again. Sharply, as always. He was never fond of mistakes, especially frequent ones.

I frowned. “If I can live up to a thousand cycles, I need a task to remember the days I’ve lived. Regardless of how much fun I have, it would be worthless in the end if I lose my mind.”

Like I had mentioned before, I’m taking my life in this world very seriously and in the studies thereof. Since then I’ve learned a lot of things in that short time. For example, In this world, years aren’t called ‘years’ but cycles, and the average lifespan of an adult is eighty cycles. 

But that applies only to the average person. I have no doubt there are many out there that are way older.

Even according to the Journal, there are others in his time that lived up to the thousands, primarily great leaders or a family dynasty’s elders. I plan to live as long as they did, or even longer. Surely this world would take only that much to discover. Maybe more.

“If you follow my quests, I could give you the answers in which you seek.”

“Again, there’s no fun in that. With you in my brain, you’re nothing short of a cheat. I’ll make use of you but I won’t rely on you completely.”

The difficulty of those quests would also be questionable, but not that it matters. I don’t plan on making this book my crutch neither am I going to be his entertainment– or whatever purpose he has planned for me.Still, if not for his help, I wouldn’t be where I am now.

I turned the pages of the Journal not aiming for a specific page, but for the information I was looking for. The Journal displayed my current abilities in numerical values, much like my status window.

[ Profile: Hyun / Race: Demon / Profession: Adventurer , Scholar - (Soul-Bound Contractor), Civilian / Level: 10 ]  [ Skill: Premonition ]  [ Strength: 14 (+3) / Speed: 11 / Constitution: 15 (+2) / Intelligence: 20 (+2) / Wisdom: 20(+4) ]

Because of this feature, I hadn’t been using the menu on my own and I prefer it this way. I don’t want to look weird when out in public. On that note however, I’ve come to learn that this skill window is not unique to me, or so I think, because the Journal mentioned to me a while ago that other reincarnates have also existed. 

Something along the lines of calling me not special and that others like me have been summoned before.

And he’s right. They might be dead, but their influence can be felt even to this day. I’m willing to bet good money that they might have had something similar because everything from  fashion, culture, even education, and healthcare– they’re very minor and can barely be seen unless you were looking for traces -- are traces of influence.

How else would an otherwise technologically-backwards world be capable of advanced neurogenic science? Dentistry? Medicine? How can the governing system be so advanced In the medieval times? 

 Magic? Magic can only take you so far, something like that can only come from someone with extensive medical knowledge. Even magic is limited... Then the list goes on from there. 

There surely could have been people like me out there… but those are still hypotheses for now. But factually from what I could gather, otherworldly beings have been summoned to be a counterweight of some cataclysmic event. 

What event I'm supposed to counteract– I don't know.

And I’m not too fond to find out just yet.

But another question can be asked with those facts on hand. If beings of great influence were able to steer the course of society to such a degree, why aren’t we advanced yet? Why are we still in the era of swords?

Why are there periods in recorded history where it’s just blank? Like a period of illiteracy? Did some fail? What happened exactly between the times in-between recorded history?

Like What happened to magic? I haven’t seen a single person use magic before.

Magic artifacts do exist, so surely the idea of someone wielding it shouldn’t be so uncommon, right? There must've been an age of great technological advancement, but it ceased almost overnight.

Or so the books in the library say so…

“That should do it for today.” I said, closing the leather-wrapped journal before putting the pencil inside the loop on the cover.

It may be little, but this pencil isn’t something that should exist in the really early middle ages. If it did exist way back then, it shouldn’t be close to modern pencils at all.

But it is.

So why?

“What will you study now then? You need ample rest.” The Journal quipped, “the efforts of your due diligence will only go to waste if you don’t recuperate your strength. Not just your physical, but also your mental strength.”

“It shouldn’t be too late.” I looked outside the window. It was pitch darkness from the city, allowing the stars in the sky to give off some light, but I can’t read with starlight alone and I’m running out of candlelight. “One more hour.”

“Alright.” 

I took the journal and flipped more of its pages. Again, I did not look for a page but instead only sought out information. Like it always did, the topic I was searching for appeared.

It was in chronological order too. This journal really is special.

 By now, the accumulated knowledge I’ve studied would be equal to a handful of thick books, yet they’re all stored in these infinite pages onto a book that doesn't increase in size.

 As it has shared to me before, by offering up a sample of something, its information would be recorded permanently. I've been feeding it anything I could get my hands on.

It’s amazing no matter how many times I do it, and because of this nifty feature, the things I learned on some Adventuring chores are always there. Even more so, some Information from multiple like sources can sometimes coincide to form Information I otherwise wouldn’t know alone from separate components.

Kingdom, Phylum, class, Order, Genus, Species– recipes, concoctions, etc that can be made by herbs are recorded in the journal. I have my own stockpile of medicine thanks to that feature. 

Although crude, it will do the trick when needed.

“But theory can only take you so far, boy.” The eye-decorated book sighed. “I believe that it's time for you to actually journey into the Spider Dungeon. All you have been doing so far is honing your blade skills into your muscle memory.”

“That's true. Without experience everything I know about the sword is more or less obsolete, but just to be on the safe side can I study it a little more?”

“No.” Exasperated, the book just shook its head. “Memorizing information about medicine production can only be useful if you practice as you learned. You aren’t practicing, therefore your efforts are useless.”

“Instead you should learn what you’re currently practicing.” And by his words, the journal opened its pages to a section simply labeled as Faux Swordsmanship.“We will have a ten-question quiz after you’ve re-read the passages.”

“Alright.”

This section of the  journal is only possible because of the swallowed adventurer. His entire life and experiences are all here. 

After all, after I woke up, my reflexes were faster and my decision making skills were much sharper. I even have some physical experience at my disposal, but I need to actually practice the knowledge committed in my memory into my own body for me to effectively use it.

But that’s not all.

Ben Faux was a true gold mine of experience because the Journal even went so far as to create a comprehensive and systematic guide to properly learn swordsmanship and techniques by his memories alone!

 If I don't utilize it, it'd be a waste!

Not just in one kind of sword, mind you, but a multitude of them— Greatswords, longswords, shortswords, rapiers, sabers, polearms, shields, daggers, and knives. 

I can't even list all of them.

Ben Faux looked like he was in his early forties, but he was actually nearly two hundred cycles old. He was a master in his own right. With that in mind, his lover would probably be around that age. 

I got off easy when I met her. 

What kind of monster does she have to be to be a trusted companion of this monster? And what other kind of beast does it take to kill someone like that?

A [Spider Knight] did. A beast with swords for eight legs. 

I don't know if that's a strong monster in the hierarchy, but just in case it isn't and there's even more powerful beasts above it— I need to be prepared for everything.

“Are you ready for the quiz?”

“Yes.”

“Then for your first question, which sword guard creates the illusion of being vulnerable when they are well guarded?”

“The Fool’s Guard.”

“Correct, now onto the next. What…”