"Starting small doesn’t mean starting weak. But it does mean you can nap while waiting for things to grow." — The Tao of Idleness, Book 6, Verse 4.

Lia’s breathing was shallow and – worryingly - laboured. Now that the alchemist had stopped messing around with the veil between the worlds, the sound of her sad little gaspings were the only noises in the otherwise silent clearing. I'm not really sure what I should be doing right now, to be honest. In lieu of a better idea, I knelt beside her, trying to comprehend how the fuck we’d gotten to a position where the capable one of us was down and the useless LARPer was still on his feet. That scrap with Balethor had been utterly brutal. Lia’d fought like hell, but in the end, the weight of all the damage – and all those cursed potions - had hit her hard, and now… Well, now she was obviously dying.

And I had no idea how to fix her. Or even if I could . . .

I’d initially tried to prop Lia up against the well, but before long, I’d moved her to the other side of the clearing: being too near that thing was freaking me out. It was just too dark and ominously quiet: as if it was waiting for her to pass to gather her into its embrace. Its whole aura was heavy, as if it was a silent sentinel—a relic of something ancient, powerful, and untapped. A source of energy begging to be claimed . . . Fuck! Where did all that come from? That was like I’d gone narratively native for a second. Sorry about that.

Weird, unnecessary, intrusive thoughts aside, my fingers also pretty much itched whenever I looked at it, hoping for it to offer a pop-up notification for a "Quick Heal" option, or something like that. That would be just the ticket right now . . . Any time now, Great Slacker. Pick your moment. Just about . . . now.

Unfortunately, it turned out whatever my patron could do – if that is what my relationship with the Great Slacker was. I needed to think about that some more – it didn’t involve him being summoned into action on demand. So, it appeared I was going to need to sort this out by myself. Awesome. Exactly what the world needs. More of me being decisive. Crouching low over Lia’s . . . – no, I’m not going to call it her ‘body’ yet – I tried to figure out what the sensible next move was. “Come on, Lia,” I whispered next to her ear. “You’re supposed to be the one who knows how to deal with all this shit. What do I do?”

If I was hoping for her to snap out of her dying state and give me some quick hints, I was destined to be profoundly disappointed. Lia’s face was pale and slick with sweat, her hand clutching the hilt of her sword even in unconsciousness. Fucking hell. This is grim, isn’t it? And it’s not like I’m going to leave her here and go looking for help, is it? Wolves, Goblins, and fuck knows what else could be in these woods. But I’m also not going to be able to carry her all the way back to Eldhaven. So what do I do? Stay or go? Stay or go?

Sometimes, child, you are exactly where you are supposed to be.

“Oh. So it’s a ‘no’ on the helpful, instant heals but a firm ‘yes’ to as much cod philosophy as I can shake a stick at? Awesome. I’ll be sure to quote your passive-aggressive bollocks thoroughly in Lia’s eulogy.”

Death is but a single step in the queue of existence. And, less we forget, one we must all take. However, if it would help ease the balance of your mind, I do not sense this is your companion’s moment to shuffle along the path of her coil. If you would like some words of advice?

“To be honest, I’d prefer an immediate medivac, but I’ll take anything you’ve got right now, mate.”

In response, The Tao of Idleness appeared in my hand and flopped open to a position about halfway through. Shrugging, I thought it was probably sensible to give whatever words of wisdom the Slacker was choosing to reveal.

"The Great Slacker lounged beneath his favourite tree, half-awake when a worried disciple approached. ‘Master,’ the disciple said, ‘my friend is gravely ill. I need to heal him, but I do not know how.’

The Great Slacker scratched his chin lazily and said, ‘Long ago, there was a man who built a fortress—not to keep enemies out, but to keep sickness in. He laid stone upon stone, without rest, fortifying each wall to trap the illness inside. But in his haste, he forgot to strengthen his foundation. The walls fell, and the sickness spread, for he tried to fight what could not be fought.

Then, there was another man. His friend, too, fell ill, but instead of building walls, he let the air in. He tended to his friend slowly, stabilising him with care and patience, not haste. He did not fight the illness but fortified the body’s strength, allowing it to heal itself. His foundation was not built of stone but of breath and time.’

The disciple furrowed his brow. ‘So, what should I do, Master?’

‘First, build hope,’ the Great Slacker said, ‘then stabilise the spirit. And lastly, fortify the heart—not against sickness, but with rest and time. Heal not by fighting, but by allowing the body to rebuild what it has lost.’

I snapped the book shut and looked around me, not really sure to whom I should be addressing my irritation. My inner Karen was very much hoping to locate the Great Slacker’s manager. “That’s the best you’ve got? Wait and cross my fingers and hope it all works out okay?”

Sometimes, an active cure is worse than the disease itself. Your companion is strong. A rest may well be as good as the strongest of all potions. Build. Stabilise. Fortify.

Fuck. I’d like a little more certainty to the prognosis than it all ‘may well be’ okay. But, hey, I guess the whole ‘wait and see’ vibe played right into my wheelhouse. Less so ‘Build. Stabilise. Fortify.’

I rocked back on my heels and gave that conundrum some thought.

***

I don’t know how much time passed with me sitting and watching Lia’s chest rise and fall. She didn’t noticeably get any better, but neither did her condition deteriorate. And I’d take that as a win right now. After a while, once I was sure she wasn’t about to die if I took my eyes off her, I climbed to my feet, eyes scanning around the clearing for anything that could be used to help.

Mind you, I don’t know what I would have thought of as ‘help’ in this situation. In my head, I was ideally thinking about making some sort of, I don’t know, stretcher – yeah, obviously, I’d need a second person, but I’m not thinking too clearly right now – when a notification I’d not seen before popped into my head.

You have discovered an Accumulation Pool: [Well of Ascension]

Claim the [Well of Ascension] and establish a village? Yes / No

I stared at the prompt, half-expecting more options. Maybe a Help file. But no. There were no other greyed-out alternatives. Just a simple Yes or No prompt.

“Oh, Great Slacker?” I called out to the silence. “Am I supposed to accept this? Your little anecdote was pretty heavy on the ‘don’t build foundations of stone.’ What was I supposed to take from that? Don’t establish the village and keep on waiting. Or is this what I was waiting for? And what the fuck does it mean to found a village? That doesn’t sound like the sort of thing a Freeloader should be doing.”

Once again, I didn’t seem to be able to get an answer from the Great Slacker when they might actually be helpful. Maybe he was having a nap?

Fuck. I have no idea whether establishing a village is a good thing or not. But I know Lia is looking shit, and it feels like – for once in my life – doing something is better than nothing. What were the last words of that anecdote. Build. Stabilise. Fortify. Fuck it. Saying ‘Yes’ is hardly going to make all her wounds worse, is it? I focused on Yes, the screen flickered and then was replaced by a new set of notifications.

Congratulations! You have founded a village at the [Well of Ascension]

You are now the Master of [Unnamed Village]

Village Level: 1

Fame: +50 (Local) / +10 (Global)

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Reputation with Empire: Suspicious

Reputation with Rebellion: Hostile

Resources available: 2 Wood, 5 Food, 1 Gold

Ah, I seem to have begun another pass on the idle-sim merry-go-round bollocks . . . However, before I could think about that too heavily, a low groan from Lia snapped me back to the moment. Right. First things first. What can I do as the Master of . . . let’s call it Lazytown for now to help her out? If reality really is going to be fucked-up version of a base-builder game, I must have access to some sort of, I don’t know, Hospital?

Basic Structures Unlockable: Medical Hut (Level 1)

Well, look at that. At some stage, I do need to unpick how much coincidental wankery comes my way before I start being suspicious, but right now is not it.

I focused on the Medical Hut option, and a transparent structure flickered into existence before me, its foundation ghosted in front of the Well. The building was showing in red, though, which I didn’t sense was a good thing. Then another prompt appeared, offering further details:

Medical Hut (Level 1)

Healing Capacity: Stabilises critical injuries.

Healing Speed: Slow

Build Cost: 20 Wood, 50 Food, 10 Gold (Building Pre-requisites Not Met)

Upgrade Cost to Level 2: 100 Wood, 50 Stone, 30 Gold

There’s that word ‘stabilise’ again. I’m supposed to do this, aren’t I? Right? But what does it mean that the ‘pre-requisites’ are not met? I tried to mentally press down on the building, but it remained steadfastly shaded red. Lia groaned again and pressed down even harder.

Can Purchase Medical Hut for 100 gold (Building Pre- requisites Not Met) Y/N

I barely thought twice. I had no moral issue with a pay-to-win game. The only thing that usually gave me pause was not having the cash to buy every upgrade going. However, in this reality – what with all the gold that kept pouring in? – I sensed that was going to be far less of a consideration. 100 gold to keep Lia alive? Cheap at half the price. Look, I know this is hardly a shining example of the NHS in action, but right, now I couldn’t care less. I confirmed the build, and the red structure turned green. In an instant, a small, ramshackle hut began materialising from thin air—planks of wood fitting together with a series of satisfying clicks. In moments, the medical hut stood fully formed, rough but functional.

Medical Hut (Level 1) constructed. Healing can begin.

Idle Gains: +1 Wood, +1 Food, +1 Gold.

Blowing my cheeks out, I moved quickly to lift Lia’s limp body and carefully carried her inside. She was still breathing—barely—but her various wounds were utterly gruesome: Balethor had done some serious damage. I laid her down on the crude bed inside the hut, and another notification popped up.

Lia Jorgensdottir has been stabilised.

Stabilised again. That was one of the words that hospitals love, isn’t it? After all, ‘dead’ is pretty damn stable. Lia clearly wasn’t out of the woods—either literally or figuratively—but at least now I could be confident she wasn’t going to die in the next few minutes. From the description, I knew that the hut’s passive healing rate was slow, but it was apparently enough to keep her circling the drain and not actually dropping down into it. Thinking back to the Great Slacker’s anecdote, maybe that was a good thing?

Stepping out of the hut, I felt a strange, pressing weight lift from my chest. I had no idea how long it would take Lia to fully recover or if she even could in a Level 1 Medical Hut, but at least I’d bought some time. That was about all I could do right now. And if there was one thing a Freeloader could get on board with, it was having a bit more time.

In relief, I collapsed on the damp ground next to the Medical Hut, staring at it.

I’d forced the damn thing to appear out of nowhere, saving Lia from the brink of death, but I couldn’t help but feel everything was not as it should be. I’d done something that was out of the normal order of things, hadn’t I? Flashing the cash when “pre-requisites had not been met”. I needed to have a look at what I’d broken by using the cheat code. If there was a Medical Hut that could be built, then there had to be other things too. Surely I would have access to some kind of interface—like the stat screens I’d seen before, but more focused on. . . yeah, let’s leave it as ‘Lazytown’ right now.

I squinted at the air, the way I had with my own stat screen. Nothing. No flashy icons, no magic prompt offering me a way out of this mess. I sighed and leaned back, feeling frustration clawing at the edges of my mind. Come on, James. Think. You didn’t just build a hut without something guiding you—there has to be more you can access. Closing my eyes, I focused on the Well at the centre of the village. There was power in that Well—I’d felt it when we arrived. What did the prompt call it? An ‘Accumulation Pool?’ That sounded like something I should be able to dive into. I reached out mentally, trying to latch onto that initial feeling I’d had before the battle with Balethor. Maybe the Well was the key to my village. Maybe I just needed to ask?

And then—DING!

My eyes snapped open as a translucent interface blinked into existence in front of me, glowing faintly in the dim light. I blinked in surprise. It wasn’t quite like the stat screen I had become used to seeing in regards to myself—this was more complex. A lot more complex.

Village Interface Activated: [Unnamed Village]

Level: 1

Population: 1 (Injured)

Resources:

- Wood: 0.5/cycle DEBUFF

- Stone: 0.5/cycle DEBUFF

- Food: 1/cycle DEBUFF

“There we go,” I said, staring at the top-level of the interface. “That’s what I’m talking about!” However, I was very much not loving the bright red 'DEBUFF' written next to Resources. What the fuck was that all about? I scrolled through the various tabs, seeing what else I could do. There were a few options under that initial screen: Resources, Buildings, Reputation—that last one caught my eye, and I opened it.

Reputation:

- Empire: Suspicious (-5)

- Rebellion: Hostile (-10)

- Fame: 10 (Global)

“Wonderful. It appears everyone hates me. Which feels harsh. I just got here.”

I stared at the numbers again, feeling a knot form in my gut. There was more to this than just being about building a Medical Hut to heal Lia, wasn’t there? It looked like I was caught between two warring factions that, apparently, already had it in for me. Glad to offer them something they could both get on board with . . . That felt like something that could come under the heading of ‘tomorrow’s problems’

I clicked back to the Buildings tab, looking at my options. A Village Hall construct was highlighted in red, and beneath it, a warning message flashed:

Requirement Unmet: Basic Infrastructure Not in Place

Medical Hut (1 injured population) making use of all available resources.

Penalty Active: Tech Tree Violation

Additional penalty: Resource Production Reduced by 500%

Great. So I’d apparently skipped a step by building the Medical Hut first, and now I was paying for it. Everything was going to take much longer to generate, and I couldn’t even start on something as basic as the Village Hall. I sighed, closing the interface for a moment.

“So much for winging it. Looks like there are actual rules to this shit.”

If it takes too long, it’s probably going just right. The slow road may wind, but it never rushes to the wrong place.

Fucking hell, mate. I could do without any more of that sort of chat, to be honest. I get it. We’re labouring the point a touch now. I peered round the door at Lia’s still form inside the Medical Hut, her breathing steady but shallow. She was ‘stable’, but was that enough?

First, build hope, then stabilise the spirit. And lastly, fortify the heart—not against sickness, but with rest and time. Heal not by fighting, but by allowing the body to rebuild what it has lost, the Great Slacker intoned into my head again.

“Okay. Allowing her body to rebuild. I can do that. But having the Medical Hut seems to have borked everything else. I pulled the interface back up, scrolling through the available options. Basic Structures—there we go. Oh, and there’s a little + I can press to open more choices. I selected it, and a new list appeared.

Basic Structures Available for Construction:

- Village Hall: 50 Wood, 50 stone, 50 food

- Storage Shed: 50 Stone, 30 Wood

- Hunter’s Lodge: 60 Wood, 40 Stone

Each of those options were greyed out—insufficient resources. Of course. I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. With the penalty in place, it was going to take ages to gather enough to build either one.

Idle Gains: +0.5 Wood +0.5 Food +0.5 Stone.

The slow trickle of resources felt even more agonising now that I knew what was happening. Every half a point, every scrap of wood or stone that came in was tainted by the knowledge that I’d somehow messed up the way this was supposed to go by rushing the building of the Medical Hut.

“So, what now?” I wondered.

I couldn’t tear the Medical Hut down—it was the only thing keeping Lia alive. But I couldn’t build anything else without resources, and the penalty was making everything crawl at a snail’s pace. I was sure I could cheat again and purchase what I needed, but would that have further consequences? I leaned back against the tree, staring at the interface in frustration. I could do with a manual here.

Or maybe an advisor who offered more useful advice than ‘if in doubt, do it tomorrow.’