Chapter 29: Hands of the Artisan X
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[THE SILVER SEAT - The Back Alleys]
It wasn’t working. His medicine wasn’t working!
Webby didn’t panic often, but right now nothing that he was feeding the old dwarf worked as it should. His silk managed to stop the bleeding, yes, but the dwarf had already lost too much blood. The blood-replenishing pills that he carried in bulk always weren’t reacting the way they were supposed to.
He had fed him two, three times the recommended dosage, to the point where he had gone past the line into overdosing, but even then it wasn’t working. It wasn’t as if the dwarf’s body was processing the medicine in a strange way, rather it seemed to completely ignore it. It didn’t make sense.
The red blade. A wound that would not heal. It had to be the work of the other Divinity. Despite his status as a child of a Divinity himself, Webby was still young. His skills were good, but a case like this demanded greater essential power, not skill.
There was...
There was no helping this man.
The little spider wanted to cry. It didn’t get any easier, no matter how often it happened. He had tried his best, he really did. But what he practiced was medicine, not miracles. There were times even his eight legs could not hold firmly onto a life.
“Please,” said the tanned boy in front of him. “L-Let me try.”
Webby looked up at Nameen, and nodded.
Maybe, with a Player’s power?
Alonzo was at their side, doing his best to try and get the dying dwarf to stay with them. He was beginning to slip in and out of consciousness now, but the wolf beastman was yelling, screaming, basically doing anything he could to prevent the old dwarf from falling asleep. It would be the end of him.
Nameen looked at the pile of objects that Webby had disgorged from his mouth, and grabbed a few. Leaves, herbs, berries. The little spider looked at him in confusion. Those were... He had pulled them out in a panic, but those were ingredients rather than medicine.
The red leaves had antiseptic properties, and those berries had both blood-regenerating and coagulating properties. It’s true that the effects were important for the situation, but... As mere ingredients and not medicine, they were unfit for consumption. Even if they were to be consumed, their effects wouldn’t be enough.
[NAMEEN BHATTACHARYA]
[LEVEL 1]
[EXP - 0/100]
[JOB CLASS: NONE]
[HP 70/70]
[MP 60/60]
[STRENGTH] - 8
[DEXTERITY] - 13
[CONSTITUTION] - 8
[INTELLIGENCE] - 13
[WISDOM] - 14
[SPEED] - 14
[LUCK] - 7
[SYSTEMS ACTIVATED:]
-SYNTHESIS- LV.2
The purple window flashed in front of Nameen’s eyes. He quickly went down the list.
He did not notice the Lv.2 at the end of his Synthesis System. No, he was in far too much of a hurry at the moment. There was something he had to find, something that he had seen in his menu before that he had never expected to actually craft.
Wait... This one said journeyman, not novice. When did--
No! No time to waste!
[YOU HAVE SELECTED “JOURNEYMAN’S BLOOD-REGENERATING POTION”. DO YOU WISH TO CRAFT “JOURNEYMAN’S BLOOD-REGENERATING POTION”?]
Nameen hit the yes prompt as fast as he could. He hoped this would work. The only thing that he could see from the menu was the name of the item, not what it actually did, as well as a list of the ingredients. In the current situation, this seemed like exactly what he was looking for, but anxiety and doubt still flooded his mind.
[PLEASE OFFER:]
1X RED LEAF OF CLEANLINESS
1X BLOOD BERRY
1X [MISCELLANEOUS MEDICINAL HERB]
And just like that, the objects that Nameen had picked up began to float in midair. Webby stared in surprise. Alonzo was too busy to pick up on it.
The three objects continued in their aerial state for a moment, before turning black and coagulating into a dark mass. It looked wrong. It was not the pretty light of creation that Webby had seen his mother invoke before, but rather as if something from beyond the veil was exerting power, forcing things together against the will of the world.
But at the end of the process was a bottle of red medicine, which dropped silently into Nameen’s hands.
[YOU HAVE CRAFTED “JOURNEYMAN’S BLOOD-REGENERATING POTION”!]
Webby squeaked in shock.
It was perfect.
As a child of the Divinity of medicine, he could sense it. This was something that was far beyond his own blood-regenerating pills. If there was anything that could save the dwarf now, it was this!
Webby nodded, and Nameen quickly rushed over to the prone form of the old man. Alonzo saw him with the bottle of medicine in his hand, and understood. The beastman pried open Vandamme’s mouth.
Snatching the bottle and popping the cork in one smooth motion, he forced the potion down the old dwarf’s throat. Red liquid dribbled down his chin.
The bottle was emptied, and now all they could do was wait.
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[THE SILVER SEAT - The Back Alleys]
Muse was certain now - the more the blood gathered in the area, the stronger the Manslayer became. He had weakened slightly when she had forced them out of the store and into the street, but now that strength was coming back the more they fought. The ground was now red, and the buildings starting to get there as well.
It would only be a matter of time until he reached the zenith of his potential, despite the lengths she had gone to try and reduce it. The sword that he wielded bled without end. It had to do with his nature as a Chosen somehow, Muse knew of nothing like this when it came to enchantments.
That was not the only thing she had noticed.
The rapier she held sizzled, the tip chipping off. The blood was corrosive to steel, and her weapon was starting to collapse in on itself. Her clothing and skin seemed fine though, despite the constant combat giving her a layer of the red stuff.
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Cain’s voulge was in no better shape. The wooden handle was fine, but the tip of the polearm was completely riddled with holes. Soon enough, it would lose its structural integrity and collapse, and although a quarterstaff would be better than nothing - in this case mere wood would be hard-pressed to go up against the Manslayer’s blade.
“This,” said the Manslayer, gesturing to the red blade. “Is a fragment of Muramasa itself.”
The knightly pair said nothing, continuing to circle around the koijin. They were constantly at opposite ends, making sure that their enemy could only focus on one of them at a time while the other could support from behind. They had crossed swords enough now that they knew a one on one against the man was suicidal.
“The 15th, unlike the 21st,” continued the Manslayer. “Has no children. Instead, we receive a fragment of our godparent to implant into our own swords. From there, the fragment devours the blade, takes its shape, and grows.”
Drip. Drip.
The red blade continued to bleed, and for the first time Cain noticed the twitch. Not of the man standing in front of him, but rather the sword that he held. The sword itself was twitching, almost imperceptibly.
“Mindless. Not like the Medic Spiders of Aerachnid. These Muramasa blades live only to feed and bleed. This is mine,” said the Manslayer. “The Muramasa Hitokiri. Now come feed it!”
SLICE!
Muse and Cain were both disarmed in an instant, their weapons dissolved by a torrent of blood. The two of them jumped back, narrowly avoiding the splash, but the Manslayer was on Cain by the time he had landed on the ground.
Cain saw the blade coming at him, and his mind flashed back to the sparring sessions he had with Ronove, back on the journey from Corbin Village to the Silver Seat. When he had found out that Control Scheme worked even without weapons.
He raised his left hand, and batted the blade from the side, sending it off its course. The movement was so sharp, so quick, and so powerful that it had completely diverted his would-be killer’s momentum.
The Manslayer’s eyes widened. His previously half-lidded crescent yellow eyes turning into full moons. Somewhere in his brain, he had classified the male knight as a weapon master savant. The idea of him being adept at unarmed combat to this extent -- it was impossible! There were not enough years in this young man’s life to have trained all these --
Crack.
Cain’s right hand, which he had kept to his waist, finally flew free. A devastating right hook, guided by Control Scheme, came at an angle from outside the Manslayer’s view. It smashed into his left cheek. A crushing blow from a blind spot.
A true haymaker.
The koijin was blown across the street, hitting the ground and rolling over, before bouncing once more and continuing to roll. Finally he came to a stop, smashing against a wall. There was a blood trail on the ground. Cain wasn’t sure whether that came from his sword or the man himself.
Cain blinked.
Ah, right. Strength stat of 25.
Man those allocated points were really pulling their weight today.
“Wow, uh,” said Muse, stunned. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Uh, yeah. Same here,” agreed Cain.
That had been anticlimactic.
Or so they thought, until the Manslayer got up again.
The figure struggled to his feet. It seemed that Cain’s punch had truly hit its target. There was damage there that the Manslayer couldn’t shrug off this time.
“Ugh,” groaned Cain, raising his arms. “You still want more?”
“Wait,” said Muse. “Something’s wrong.”
The way that the Manslayer had gotten up... It was as if he had been dragged up by the blade itself. Even now, as he moved to approach them once more, his bearing had changed. What had been professional and somewhat even dignified before was now sloppy. It was as if he was about to fall over.
Then she saw his eyes. They were rolled over, and there was bloody drool coming out of his mouth. The man was clearly unconscious.
What was not unconscious however, was the red blade. The Muramasa Hitokiri, as he had called it. The blade had bulged open in the midsection, and now there was an eye - an honest-to-goodness bloodshot eye - staring back at them.
Before either of them could react to the grotesque vision, the sword began to scream.
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[THE SILVER SEAT - The Back Alleys]
Vandamme’s condition had stabilized. The medicine had worked.
Red returned to his pale cheeks, and even the chill that had started to creep into his body was now gone like a nightmare after awakening. Webby fed him a few pills of different kinds - they were starting to work now. The man was still heavily injured, but his survival was now guaranteed.
The three of them had just breathed sighs of relief when they heard the scream. Well, it was more likely that in addition to them half the city had heard it.
They turned to see the cause of the commotion. The assailant, the Manslayer, was swinging his sword about. Not with the practiced ease that he had displayed previously, but with a ferocity and viciousness of primal rage and hunger. Blood flew with every swing, covering the sky and earth.
They watched as Cain did his best to parry the attacks, but the more he did so the more difficult it got. The enemy was learning his patterns, and he was out of weapons to switch to. Not to mention the fact that he was parrying with his bare hands a weapon clearly keen enough to slice through bone.
He was gambling with his life, and it was only a matter of time until the dice fell wrong.
Muse was doing the best she could to distract and sabotage the koijin with her wind magic, but without a weapon to channel it through it had a portion of the force she usually could draw out. Godcasters needed their foci in order to truly unleash their spells - she was dearly missing her saber.
Cain and Muse were fighting Muramasa’s Chosen barehanded, and they were going to lose.
Alonzo turned and looked at the kid, the Player.
“They need somethin’,” he said. “A weapon, please.”
“I... I need materials!” responded Nameen.
When he had left the shop, all he had thought about was carrying Vandamme to safety. There was no time to think about anything else, and now it was impossible to get back inside - not when the battle raged so fierce and so close to the entrance.
He’d get shredded into pieces if he tried.
“What do you need? Wood? Steel?”
“Y-Yes! Iron, steel, anything!” said Nameen.
Alonzo looked around. The old dwarf hadn’t been carrying anything. Webby looked at him and shook his head - the divine beast neither. Were they out of options? Could this be--
THUNK!
His wild motions had forced something out of his sheath. He looked down - it was a fragment of the sword that Vandamme had forged for him. Right, as he scrambled from the shop to get Webby to Vandamme, he had picked it up on the way.
Why, he had not known at the time. Perhaps it was just because he was too used to having it at his side. But now...
He kneeled down and pulled out all the fragments that he had managed to collect. A few large ones, the smaller pieces he had left on the shop floor. It looked like enough, possibly, to make something.
“Is this enough?”
Nameen studied the pieces, looked up at him, and nodded.
Then, they floated into the air in front of him, and, like the medicine from earlier, coagulated into a dark mass. After a moment an iron ingot spewed forth, which existed in its form for nary a second before being relegated to darkness once more.
At the end of the process, the darkness disgorged an iron shortsword. Smaller than Alonzo’s sword had been, but all it took was one look for the wolf beastman to see that it was far superior.
Good!
He didn’t have faith in his own capabilities - oh, he knew his limits. He was a competent knight and his skills suited his station, but Players and Chosens were both beyond him. This thing would be of far more help in their hands.
“Hey, wide-eyes! Heads up!”
Cain heard him yell and hopped back, turning his head. The Manslayer, or perhaps it was more accurate to say Muramasa Hitokiri itself, didn’t miss this opportunity to advance, delivering a stroke that would be sure to decapitate its foe.
If not for the green hands that suddenly gripped its handle. Muse had stepped forward and thrown her arms around the Manslayer’s waist, grabbing at the blade and laying her hands on it. It was an awkward position, but it was just enough to break his stance.
“Where do you think you’re looking?” grinned Muse.
Alonzo saw his chance, and threw the shortsword in Cain’s direction. The Player saw it coming, and reached out - his eyes turned black and gold once more - he would use Control Scheme to make this catch --
A tongue lashed out from Muramasa Hitokiri’s hiltguard.
A tongue.
It snaked through the air beyond Cain’s reach, and snatched the shortsword as it fell.