I Hate Being The Protagonist

This idiot was getting on my nerves. He was obviously underprepared for the secret shrine, with a lacking aura. I could see his backpack lying on the floor, a clear sign of lacking information. If you need a backpack to get here, you're obviously not ready.

I held my tongue clamped in my mouth, disregarding this clueless buffoon.

He obviously got the hint, not touching me for the rest of our interactions.

During the year and change that I've lived my 3rd life, I've grown a bit of a nasty temper. This bullshit situation that I've found myself enraged me. I was forced to focus all of my precious time on planning how to kill the Dreamer and setting myself free from this looping life.

When I reawakened at the same exact moment I did last time, everything was clear. My mother's treasury welcomed me like a hailstorm on a sunny picnic. Gabriel wasn't there just like last time, so I interrogated my driver about it.

As soon as he helped me by defeating the wretched demon which murdered my family, the shining angel disappeared, tending to some urgent business.

What has been left of my manapool was about a bottle's worth, a mere fourth of my previous riches.

I had to get away from Holdanis, as my nemesis made a promise to stalk me as soon as I show up. Trying to avoid that, I never met with Rache in this life, telling my driver to send me straight into another region of Eviansis. Emperia is the southern neighboring region to Holdanis, previously a kingdom ruled by Lucian, one of the 7 Rulers.

The dessert filled region is an expected trait of the strongest fire user in all of history. The demons of Hell could never stand up to the Fire Emperor Lucian, a being that can even burn fire with his flames, whatever that means. The hype surrounding him is written all across the libraries of Emperia, so I got a good taste of its previous Ruler.

During my 3rd life, I've been searching for ways to beat dream magic and the Dreamer. Considering that I've already reattained my former manapool during this year and change, I could just try and attack the malevolent entity as soon as possible.

The reason why I didn't do such is because I felt a peculiar sensation when my soul passed onto the third life. The 3 fourths of my manapool have been sucked out of me, presumably taken by the Dreamer into this resurrection. I can't be certain about my hypothesis, but I've been right about the theories I made before facing it.

Also, another reason for my overly-cautious approach is its ability with the mana it had. The entity itself manipulated a grander structure than its own biological mana allowed. The spells it caught me with were cast by that manapool, which paled in comparison to mine. That said, if it gained three bottle's worth of mana, it could easily crush someone like Lucidel, a pillar of power much stronger than it.

-

While in search for answers and ways to get stronger, I've stumbled upon this secret temple of monks.

The baffled man was still talking despite the monk's and my own silence. What he needed to do is sit here in silence for only a few days, watching the monk. If you solely focused on the monk, you would get instructions which you had to follow. It would be comprised of monotonous actions like emptying a bag of gravel, one small stone at a time.

As I didn't fancy sitting for days at a time and doing dumb tasks, I respected only a part of the monk's ritual. The passcode you had to say before sitting down and awaiting further instruction.

"I feel like I'll go crazy! A new friend showed up, but he also doesn't talk," the man keeps blabbering.

I stand up, smiling at the monk. The psychic link was immediately connected, with the monk telling me to take the hammer which was in the back of the shrine and nail the giant stump protruding outside of the shrine, at the back entrance. I had to move it at least 2 inches, which seemed laughable.

I took the hammer, offering it to the man and pointing to the stump. The hammer itself was as long as an axe, with a heavy metallic head. It wasn't a sledgehammer, since the head is at least 4 times the size.

"You want me to hit the stump?" he asks.

I nod in an affirmative way, smiling at the now ecstatic man. "There's still hope!" he states, smashing the hammer into the stump. It doesn't move even slightly, recoiling the shock back to the man's hands.

He tried it for almost half an hour before collapsing down to the floor.

With bloodied and bruised hands, he huffed uncontrollably from the intense heat. He hasn't moved the stump even a quarter of an inch. If he were to continue, it would eventually move.

"I can't do it," he complains, obviously exerted from the heat and physical strain.

I silently take the hammer from him, lifting it into the air. This man's manapool doesn't even equate to a full bottle, being 3 quarters or so.

I smash the hammer into the stump, breaking the tool with a single swing. The stump is only moved a single inch as all of the force was converted to the hammer.

[The hammer broke, may I use my hand?] I ask the monk telepathically.

[...]

He wouldn't respond in this kind of situation, but I received an answer nonetheless. [You may.]

I strike the stump with an open palm strike, sending it fully into the ground. The previously 3 feet of wood protruding from the ground were reduced to zero, becoming part of the earth.

The man's jaw dropped, as he questioned if what his eyes were telling him was a fever dream or reality.

"H-how!! Teach me!" the man demanded.

I ignored his attempt at becoming my pupil, listening to the monk's next request.

An absurdly time consuming task was set, pinching sand and adding that pinch of sand to a pouch too large for that task.

"I'm sorry, I'll have to stop the classical route from here on out," I declare, walking outside of the shrine.

"Ah, you talked! Please accept me as your stu–"

"No."

Tears formed in the man's eyes, as he dropped down onto his knees and started begging shamelessly. I disregarded his futile pleads, focusing on my current objective.

"Man, can this be any more complicated?" I complained outwardly as the man let out a confused "Huh?"

After a short minute of my right arm being extended, the somewhat intellectually questionable act gave fruit. Even though I might have seemed like a special ed kid, what I was doing couldn't be seen with the naked eye.

Blue sparks began appearing from thin air as a cut in space-time opens slowly. Magic runes of protection and obscurity start unveiling themselves, melting away like spaghetti when cooked in a pot.

As the runes lose meaning and the magic gives way, a place beyond the scope of worldly senses is revealed.

The 'portal' I've created shuts as soon as I walk through, not giving any time for the unfortunate man left sitting on his knees.

A drop of sweat runs down the monk's face as he witnesses something he's never anticipated from a mortal man, let alone a 12 year old. Only a single deep breath is let out as he returns to his meditative state.

-

When I peered into the runes and decast the magic covering this place, a new temple was discovered.

What awaited my eyes was a giant stone temple with water running down the sides, with bright green vegetation brimming with life, the short grass growing out of every nook and cranny.

There were 2 monks carrying baskets filled with fruits and vegetables.

The bald men noticed me and raised their eyebrows. My emerald eyes gazed into their aura, my face clearly showing admiration.

The left one had a 2 bottles worth of mana, while the right one had almost the same aura that I had in my previous life.

I let them introduce themselves first, waiting for a verbal greeting.

"Welcome, young learner."

I took my sword out, making them tense up in anticipation. When I dropped my weapon down and raised my hands, they understood the gesture.

I introduced myself, chatting with the tranquil monks. They offered to escort me into their temple, where they kneeled down.

"So, do you follow some kind of God?" I ask them.

"No," one of them responds, "We only trust in the might of our elder, who lived through centuries and witnessed all that's written in our sanctuary."

That's what I came here for.

There were legends of a man that's trained in the way of martial arts to such an extent that they deemed it perfect. The perfect martial art, a single individual.

"May I see your elder?" I request.

"He isn't someone easily accessed, but you've already met him. He is the man guarding the entrance to this very temple."

That old fart?? I sensed no unusual aura coming from him, which must mean he has an unnatural inclination for magic control.

Even I can't hide it that well.

I stare back in the direction of the outer shrine, where the elder sits on his chair. I couldn't see anything through the blurry barrier around the temple, but I still stared into the distance.

"Let me take you through the steps of becoming one of us, young learner. The first one will be shaving your head clean like we do," one of the monks says as he grabs a razor.

"I'll be doing no such thing, unfortunately. I'm not here to pray and meditate for centuries just so I could remain weaker than some old fool," I state assertively.