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Chapter 4

My heart pounds in my ears as I make my way as quietly as possible towards the familiar scent, tainted by blood. In the distance, I can hear cackling as well as a strange, garbled language being shouted. Among these noises, I can very faintly hear a moan of pain. My speed increases, pushing my legs to take me faster, internally praying that my hunch is wrong, or if it’s right, that I’m not too late.

Coming into a clearing, I see five small goblins hopping gleefully around a form on the ground, taking turns stabbing it with shabby, wicked looking daggers. A cold weight settles in my stomach as my suspicions are confirmed. “COLT!” My voice bellows out, a mixture of anger and fear.

Without even thinking, I’ve already thrown my anchor, it arcs through the air, crashing into a goblin’s head with a sickening crack. I’m at my anchor in seconds, the goblins having grouped together just a little ways away, bearing their weapons at me. Rage consumes me, I charge the goblins. “HEAVY BLOW”, a goblin is pasted under my anchor, the others shriek and take a step back. The remaining three spread out around me in a triangle, each hesitating to make the first move.

Time isn’t in my favor, so I charge the closest one. A gash appears in my side as the goblin to my right cuts me with his dagger. -47 With a grunt of pain, I stumble a bit, taking a slice to the side by the goblin to my left, this one glances off of my ribs. -24 Roaring in pain, I smash the goblin on my left with another Heavy Blow, its body crumples against the metal frame and he doesn’t get up.

The final two goblins jump at me simultaneously and while I manage to bring the anchor up and block one of their hits, the other hits me with a slash in the back as a result. -27 Gritting my teeth, I punch one of the goblins in the head, knocking him over, and impale the other goblin on the point of my anchor with a swing.

As I turn, the last goblin is running, with the remaining embers of my fury, I dash at him, picking up speed. Suddenly, a tug on my mana pool occurs, and small glowing beacons appear in my vision. Focusing on each one, my speed increases in bursts. Dashing from beacon to beacon I’m now in front of a very surprised goblin, a Heavy Blow plants him in the ground.

The world begins to become hazy for me, I pull out one of my salves, the weakest I brought, the 20 HP 4 dose. As fast as possible, I apply the salve over my wounds, using only two doses to simply close the wounds and stop the bleeding. My HP rises back up from 62 to 102, the bleeding seemed to drain HP as well. All of this was done while running back over to the body on the ground. “COLT!” My concern is rising with every second as the body doesn’t move.

Shaking the body of my friend, I place my index and middle finger on his neck and hover my ear over his mouth and nose. He’s still breathing and I can just barely feel a pulse. No time to try anything else, I open my 40 HP 3 dose salve and begin to apply it to his wounds. The blood stops flowing and the wounds begin to seal up.

My stomach drops and I’m forced to turn and vomit as I come to a horrifying realization, Colt’s hand is nothing but a stump of broken flesh. I use the last dose of the salve on his hand, watching with a disgusted intrigue as the flesh knits itself back together and actually seems to grow upward a bit. With a gasp, Colt’s eyes snap open and he tries to sit up, I don’t let him.

“Colt you can’t sit up right now you’re hurt badly.” My worry clearly written on my face. “Lucas? Fuck, I thought I was-” He turns his head to the side and begins to vomit. Helping him up to a sitting position, I hold him steady, letting him void his stomach until he’s dry heaving. “W-What’s your HP right now Colt?” My voice wavers, just asking the question feels absurd. “4-46” He’s barely holding it together right now. “How is that possible I used an item worth 120 HP!” My heart rate goes beyond what I thought possible for a human.

Immediately, I take out all of my healing supplies, hushing Colt’s grunts as I apply everything I brought with me to his wounds, especially his hand stump. It almost looks like the palm of the hand is beginning to grow back.

“How about now?” Trying to bite down on my concern as to not panic Colt any further than I have already. “63. A m-message from The Construct told me I have a c-condition: Limb l-loss and s-severe bleeding, w-which y-you already c-c-cured.” Colt takes a deep breath, I can almost hear him counting back from 10 in his head like I’ve told him to do before. I’m one of the only people that knows that Colt suffers from a severe anxiety. “Both say there’s a penalty to healing items until the conditions are cleared.”

My heart drops, I’m out of healing items. “Do you think you can stand?” I offer a hand. Colt tries but his legs give out, he has no strength left in him. “Guess I’m carrying you then, just like in every game we play” Letting out a light chuckle, trying to ease the mood. Colt smiles for a half second before wincing in pain, I see his eyes look to what used to be his hand.

Frowning, I slip the anchor into my bag as best as I can fit it, zipping the bag up to hold it in place. With my bag on my back, I look to Colt again. “Sorry, this won’t be very comfortable.” I help him to his feet, put my shoulder into his waist, and lift him into a fireman’s carry.

After taking a few steps, I realize a fatal flaw. Colt may have lost a lot of blood, but he’s 6’3, I’m only 5’8, and Colt is the son of a farmer, so he’s solid muscle. My legs are beginning to fail me. ‘Status’ The menu appears and I immediately focus my mind on dumping 5 points into Strength. Colt’s weight seems to lighten instantly as I feel a strange rush of pure power enters my muscles.

“What just happened? A second ago you were staggering and now you’re fine.” Colt’s questioning me, which is a good sign to me that he’s going to be okay. Ignoring him, for now, I dismiss his questions saying that I was pretending to struggle. He only half believes me.

Approximately 30 minutes later, we’re back in my house and I set Colt in one of the kitchen chairs. “What the fuck happened here Lucas? And why is your door frame a metal porcupine?” Colt stared around the kitchen, shocked by all of the damage. “Let’s worry about that later Colt, we need to heal you.”

Opening the cupboard where I stored away the rest of my salves and the single red slime potion, I grab all of them and set them on the table next to Colt. Handing him the potion, I have him drink it. “Fair warning though, it tastes like ass.” I indicate to the potion. “You’d know what that tastes like, huh?” Colt smirks devilishly at me. Jokes are a good sign, he’s going to be okay, my internal duress calms a bit.

Colt gags as he takes his first dose of the healing potion, nearly spitting it back up. “Holy shit, this is vile.” Colt then plugs his nose with his good hand and downs the rest of the bottle with me holding it to his lips. “I hope to never experience that taste ever again in my life, garbage is fine cuisine by comparison.” Hushing him, I have him take off his shirt and jacket, it’s ripped to shreds anyway. Taking a look at his body, there’s still cuts visible that haven’t healed, but at least the bleeding has stopped.

“What’s your HP at now” Feeling like a broken record, I repeat the same question I asked him every 2 minutes of the trip back. “It’s up to 72 now, I think that’s a really good sign.” Colt’s relief is palpable. “We’ll make you 100%, literally, you have an HP bar now.” Colt and I laugh a bit at the stupid joke. Taking another of my healing salves, I coat each wound on his body. Watching as it soaks into his skin. With most of his major injuries dealt with, I’ve used the 12 HP 3 dose salve, the 19 HP 3 dose salve, and the 24 HP 3 dose salve.

When we look at his stump-hand, we both exclaim in shock and a slew of curses. The entire palm has grown back and small nubs are visible where each of his fingers should be. “HP?” “122” The diminished healing returns have grown more subtle with every salve I used on Colt. The final salve is enough to do the trick and Colt’s hand grows every finger back. He may not be full HP, but his health regen will do the rest for that, he tells me the condition: limb loss is gone.

Reality comes crashing in for both of us as we embrace and sob. “I was so scared” My body shakes. “I thought I was going to die.” Colt grips me even tighter, my ribs creak under the pressure. He realizes what he’s doing and lightens his pressure but doesn’t let go. After sitting there for another 5 minutes, we let go of one another. Having been so focused on my survival since the introduction of The Construct, I hadn’t realized just how much I had missed human contact.

Each of us wiping our eyes, I stand up. “I’ll get you some new clothes to wear and set up a bath, you’re filthy.”

Stolen story; please report.

“Thanks.” Colt grins at me sarcastically.

Retrieving my pot I used for my washcloth bath, I walk out to the well and fill it. Returning to the stove, I realize we’re running low on firewood inside, fortunately, there’s a large pile on the side of the house, so I retrieve that quickly and come back inside. I set the pot on the stove.

With the water beginning to heat up, I go up to my room and pick out the largest clothes I can find that might fit Colt. Finding a T-shirt that was always too big for me and a pair of sweatpants that might fit, I return downstairs to find Colt asleep upright in the kitchen chair. Shaking him lightly, he wakes up. “Wuhuh?” I hand him the clothes I found and guide him to the bathroom tub. Bringing in the pot while he walks next to me. It’s significantly easier for me to carry him with my heightened strength stat. Setting the pot down and handing him several wash cloths, I close the door and hear it lock behind me. Finally, in a moment of calm, a slew of system messages appear.

Level up! For increasing your proficiency with an anchor and channeling your rage for power, your Talent: Fledgling Anchorist has reached (6/50)!

For reaching your first Talent milestone in Fledgling Anchorist, you have been awarded applicable skill points to Strength, Endurance, Dexterity, Willpower and + 30 XP. In addition, you have been granted the Perk: Ballasted Body

Congratulations, Lucas Creo! In your desperation, you have acquired the Anchorist Skill: Plot Course!

Condition acquired: Bleeding Lacerations, -5 HP per minute until this condition is healed.

Condition cured: Bleeding Lacerations

Five goblins defeated! 143 XP awarded.

Goblins dropped items: 7 Sparks, low quality iron shortsword, and low quality leather bracers.

Skill: Heavy Blow has leveled up 4 times, reaching level 5!

Level up! You have achieved level 4, you are rewarded 5 unallocated stat points, +10 MP, +1 Insight and +1 Strength.  42/497 XP remaining to level 5.

‘The +1 strength must be from Ballasted Body! Guess I just managed to sneak that in before the level up. Let’s check out everything.’

Checking perks first, I directly view Ballasted Body.

Perks:

Ballasted Body

Description: The weight in your body now works like ballasts! You may add or subtract weight from any part of your body to another area. If no weight is moved, your natural stability is greatly increased. Strength increased by 1, +1 Strength per level up.

Tentatively, I focus on my body and realize that I can feel my body’s weight. Pulling on that weight with my mind, I push the weight of my left arm to my right. Suddenly, my right arm is twice as heavy while my left arm is light as a feather. Ballasting the weight back, I do several unsteady poses in different angles, reveling in the stability of my body. It’s as if my foot is planted to the floor, my weight naturally shifting to allow for much more extreme planes of motion. ‘Okay enough fun for now, Skills’

Skills:

Heavy Blow - (Level 5) - Empower your blows with the force of mana. Dramatically increase the weight behind your attacks and improve crushing power. Cost: 27 MP  

Meditation (Level 3) - Allows one to go into a state of serene calm that increases mana regeneration by 0.3/min. Cannot perform any other actions while meditating.

Plot Course - (Level 1) - Allows the user to set beacons at set intervals, plotting their course to their destination. Moving towards a beacon grants a quick burst of speed. Only the user of this Skill may see the beacons. Cost: 10 MP

Remembering back to the final goblin, I visualize across the kitchen and feel a tug on my mana pool. A beacon springs forth in the middle of the kitchen, I run to it and very quickly gain too much speed. Attempting to stop quickly, my foot slips on the tile and I crash into the floor.

-5

“Everything okay out there Lucas?” Colt’s voice has a bit of fear mixed into it. “Yeah it’s fine I was just testing a new Skill I got!” Colt’s fake-nagging about “No using Skills in the house young man!” goes ignored by me. ...I probably won’t use Plot Course indoors very much after this painful experiment.

Lastly, one more important thing to check. ‘Status’

Status:

Lucas Creo

Age: 22

Race: Human

Status: None

Level: 4

Exp: 42/497

HP: 191/195 (0.65 HP/min regeneration)

MP: 270/270 (0.8 MP/min regeneration)

Strength: 17

Endurance: 13

Dexterity: 14

Intelligence: 13

Attunement: 16

Willpower: 10

Charisma: 11

Insight: 15

Stat points: 10

My stat gains are getting pleasingly larger.

After a few minutes of waiting for Colt to finish washing, I decide to be productive instead. Grabbing two more stag steaks, I open the wax paper and give them a sniff, they both still smell fresh, is that some kind of preservation glyph? Preparing the meat how I did yesterday, I add a little more salt. Rubbing the marinade into the meat, I set them each on their own frying pan, intending to finish both at once. The plates are set on the counter, ready to receive the prepared meals.

Colt returns to the kitchen and I glance over at him. “What are you cooking? That smells delicious!” Colt is wearing my clothes, which are a very poor fit for him. The T-shirt, which was big on me, is tight to his body, and the sweatpants fit, but the leg length is way too short, most of his ankles are showing. He stares at me, hazel eyes calculating my reaction as he runs a hand through his short, sandy brown hair, still wet from the washcloth-bath. We both crack up. While

Colt comments that he’s perfectly happy with the shirt, it shows off his muscles, after all, we agree the pants are hilarious.

Once I finish laughing at him about how ridiculous he looks, I realize I’ve almost overcooked the steaks. Transferring them to the plates, I set the steaming meals on the table. We sit down, both looking at our venison, eyes hungry. Taking my first bite, the flavor explodes in my mouth, it’s juicy, it’s savory, it’s tender, it’s- “You used too much thyme”

My entire experience comes crashing down. “W-what?” My face crestfallen. Colt has always had a secret food snob side, he’s used to farm-fresh meat and vegetables with his meals. ...He’s right, I used too much thyme. Colt’s truthful demeanor punches holes in me. “It still tastes good, there’s just a little too much thyme, also you should add some oregano next time.”  Colt grins at me evilly. “You bastard! You made me think you thought it was awful!” My heart lightens, the mood slowly shifting back to friendly banter after such an eventful, and scary, rescue.

We spend the day after late lunch exploring my yard, I begrudgingly show Colt my herb garden. “I didn’t know you kept this! Why didn’t you tell me.” Colt’s confusion is obvious.

“I thought you’d laugh at me!” Blushing further, I turn away.

“No, it’s cool, it’s a good idea Lucas. Actually, I think I might be able to help a bit here.”

Colt kneels down to the garden and places his hand on the very bare vitaleaf patch. “Green Thumb” Colt’s voice echoes a bit with mana. Instantly, my eyes become saucers as more vitaleaf shoots begin to sprout up from the ground. Colt is breathing a bit heavy, he must have used a lot of mana to impress me. The shoots aren’t fully grown yet, but they look like they will be soon.

As we walk around my yard more, Colt questions me. “Explain to me again how you got all of these healing items? I had to run from monsters and wait for my health regen any time I took damage! It was a dangerous risk I took trying to reach your house to make sure YOU were okay, only for me to find you have these magic salves that close wounds instantly.”

My face reddens a bit at the obvious difference in our struggles. Colt still raises his left hand up sometimes, flexing his regrown fingers in awe. He’s a lefty, so it was especially detrimental to him to have lost them. “This herb garden used to be basil, cilantro, and parsley! The Construct turned them into vitaleaf, magetongue, and fleetchute. I’m not complaining though it saved my ass several times. Did I tell you about the volley stag yet?”

Animatedly, I tell him about my encounter. “Those fuckers are awful, I had to run away from several and hide until they lost me. ...By the way, I’ve been avoiding asking in case it’s a sensitive topic, but what’s with the anchor?” Blushing again, I realize just how ridiculous my weapon of choice must seem.

“It was the only thing I could find in the living room to defend myself with, once I used it I gained the Fledgling Anchorist class, so now it just kind of feels natural to use.”

Colt’s face is only increasingly questioning. “Where did you get an anchor from though – wait, your mom, right.” Colt is all too familiar with how eccentric my parents are. Conversation returns to normal as Colt and I discuss our different Talents, Skills, and Perks we have. It turns out, Colt started out as a level 7 Fledgling Farmer immediately. He gained the Green Thumb Skill from the milestone reward as well as a Perk called Bountiful Harvest. It gives him an increased amount of harvest from any plant he picks, it’s what kept him alive while he explored the forest, trying to find my house. Apparently, the main roads are heavily infested with monsters, so he couldn’t use those.

A few hours pass and both of our health and mana supplies have returned. Colt’s Attunement stat is a lot lower than mine, so his mana pool is smaller. He uses Green Thumb once more and picks some of the vitaleaf for me. He comes back with more than he should have been able to. It’s enough for at least 3 potions. We return to the kitchen so I can show him my craft.