He rose with some effort.
"I can't stay here now," he murmured. It wasn't just because the scream might attract monsters like goblins or something worse, but also because there was quite a lot of his blood on the ground, which gave him a bad feeling.
He took the robe and put it on immediately over his tattered clothes. "This is... strange," he murmured.
The feeling of the robe over his clothes was odd, but he could get used to it.
He took the staff; it was made primarily of wood with some metal parts, but what stood out the most was that it had a precious gem at the top.
The book was... a simple brown hardcover book, nothing interesting about it.
"Ugh... here goes," he murmured as he picked up the book.
Whether he liked it or not, the information etched in his brain appeared immediately, the moment he took the book. He knew right away that among all the objects, the most important one, by far, was this book.
"Spellbook, Grimoire," he murmured as the name of the book in his hands appeared in his mind.
He resisted the urge to open it. He stored it in a pocket of his robe and began to move.
Using the staff for support, he started walking. The feeling of his changed body was strange; not only had his height changed, but his muscles and bones had undergone slight alterations. Even moving felt weird and difficult.
Luckily, his body responded well and quickly, so the more he moved, the faster his mind seemed to adapt to the changes and he could move with greater ease.
After he had walked for an hour, he stopped.
"I don't feel tired," he murmured. His body barely felt any fatigue.
It was somewhat strange, because before, walking just half that distance would have made him breathe heavily. After all, he had walked quite a bit and it was much harder considering the path was uneven.
He sat down to one side and took out the grimoire.
"Well, time to learn magic... never thought I'd say that," he said as he opened the book.
The first couple of pages were a mix of an instruction manual along with general information, but since most of that info was already etched in his head, he skimmed past it without much interest.
The next page was very different; it had strange symbols etched on it.
"I only have nine glyphs available," he murmured as he turned the page.
The magic he had learned was very strange. It wasn't like the typical kind, where you just learn the incantation and cast it. Instead, it was like programming, with symbols that worked like code and which he had to combine to create different types of effects.
Currently he had nine glyphs that functioned as basic code for creating different kinds of "Programs."
These glyphs were divided into three types:
The first, and the foundation of glyph magic, were the Shape Glyphs, which determined how the spell would be cast: whether as a projectile, on contact, or on oneself.
Then there were the Effect Glyphs, which were literally that: different effects that could be used to harm or protect.
Lastly, there were the Boost Glyphs, which served to enhance or change the nature of a spell. They were quite odd among all, as they could affect any glyph.
The glyphs function in a chain order, taking effect one after the other, and except for unique situations, no glyph would activate at the same time or before another.
"Three Shape Glyphs, three Effect Glyphs, and three Boost Glyphs," he murmured as he began experimenting with the spells.
Luckily, the glyphs were very easy to understand and their effects obvious, so creating the first spell was extremely easy.
"What should I call it?" he wondered, looking at the finished spell. On top of everything, he also had to give the spell a name, which would serve as the word to initiate its effects.
The name was an important part, but also, for it to work correctly, it had to be said with the intent of wanting to cast the spell. This would prevent dangerous situations if said without truly wanting to cast it.
"How about... 'Magic Missile'? It's quite common and a bit generic, but it's easy to understand and say," he murmured as he wrote it at the top.
"That should be it, right?" he asked himself, as he took the staff beside him and aimed at a tree.
"Let's see... Magic Missile," he said. Immediately, in the gem of the staff, a bluish light began to glow as if condensing, and in a flash, a bluish pellet shot out from it, crashing into the trunk with a dry thump that sent a shower of wood chips.
"Whoa, it actually worked," he murmured somewhat incredulously, but immediately felt a sensation of lethargy, of weariness.
"Is this... lack of magical power?" he murmured, dazed. He hadn't expected the effects of using magic to be so severe.
The glyphs had different levels that determined the cost of magical power.
Currently he only had level 1 glyphs, each costing two units of magical power.
Besides the shape glyph he had used, he had used the Damage glyph. So just that was enough to leave him in this state.
"I think the Grimoire said how much magical power I have," he murmured as he opened the book. On the first page, above the instructions, was etched the number four.
"So it's four... well, I can cast it twice." He grimaced immediately. He had hoped he could cast magic several times, but only being able to use it a couple of times was quite disappointing.
"Should I have taken alchemist instead?" he wondered, half-joking, half-serious.
"And... now, what should I do?" he asked himself. He supposed he would have to find food, water, shelter, and so on. But he wasn't specialized in survival, so he didn't even know where to look or what to start with.
[Quest - Nightmare Night: The night is dark and full of terrors. Monsters and beasts roam in the darkness. Survive until dawn.]
"How convenient," he murmured as he looked up. At some point the sun had set, and night was settling in.
"I'll have to make use of the little light left before it gets completely dark," he murmured as he got moving.
The long night was about to begin.