The sun had snuffed itself out upon the horizon. In the dark, Gerald began to limp back to Feverton.
Deep in the Peeking Woods with only a single unit of Holy Power remaining... I can only hope my savagery appeased the Gnarl.
Gerald bowed as low as he could, hands clasped and fingers knitted. It was a gesture of supplication to the Jointed Goddess. I hope it applies to whatever intelligence animates these malevolent Woods.
He made his way, flinching at every breeze and rustle. Having traveled farther from the civilized pocket of Feverton than ever before, Gerald was uncertain if the Woods would even let him return.
I can’t think like that. I’ll return. I must.
But he had traveled fifty steps and not left the twisted boughs of the fig tree... Honorable Duncan’s body seemed to leer at him from each gloomy patch of ground.
I was too rash! Nightfall is always dangerous for travelers... Monstrous beasts, of course, but every landmark looks the same dyed in black. And that’s without accounting for the Gnarl’s effects on distance!
If I can just return to the Jointed Chapel, I’ll have my Suzemony...
But Gerald was lost.
The corpse on the ground was changing. It wasn’t just Duncan’s anymore. Red entrails spiraled from its stomach, crawled across the ground, draped onto the branches like a spiderweb. Fig-leaves festooned in rot. A malicious haze rolled from between the reaching branches.
Gerald knew it then. I am somewhere hallowed. Sacred, but not to me. The knowledge appeared to him as a shape he’d memorized by heart, if not mind. Upon the first page of the Book of Prophecy and Nonequivalence was a passage he’d never quite been able to make out:
You’ll stand in the grove of the Gutted Man.
It is the curse of every oracular vision to remain as gibberish until destiny has revealed itself. By then, it’s too late.
The air itself hates me!
Gerald prostrated himself before the body, quivering.
I’m going to die. This before me is a death more complete than by Anna’s sacrificial dagger. In a metaphysical manner, I stumbled off a hundred-meter cliff! I’m free-falling deeper into this foreign deity’s domain every moment... I’ll die as soon as I hit the metaphorical ground!
It’s as inevitable as gravity.
Gerald did the only thing he knew how to do.
“I have done violence upon your sacramental grounds. I have partaken in the parasitic fruit called malice. I have forgotten the value of a life. Please, I beg you! Set me free as a different being; as if a wasp through ruptured skin!”
He made himself small.
I want to live! For that, I’ll give up everything I am!
The wind cackled through the trees. Gerald knocked his forehead against the muddy ground. His teeth ground against each other.
Feed off my desperation, but don’t take my life!
The sensation of falling slowed. For a moment, Gerald’s soul hung motionless, inspected by something he couldn’t see. Then:
Physical pain! Burning, heavy lungs! Wet wounds and sulfur stench! Gnawing teeth upon incinerated flesh! Drowning in my own blood!
Spiritual pain! Needles in the grieving heart! Endless weight making thoughts sluggish! Boredom! Drowning in my own blood!
Every part of him was in agreement:
This hurts like hell!
Stolen novel; please report.
What is it doing to me?!
And the answer branded itself upon his Blessing.
(Passive) Gutted Man’s Boon [Minor] L.1 ⊙︎
You may possess as many Boons as your Rank.
Major Injuries within ten meters worsen by 2 (Level + Rank) Max HP every 8 minutes.
[Minor] bonus: When you become splattered in fresh blood, recover 2 (Level + Rank + 35% per Endurance) HP throughout the next 6 seconds.
Gerald felt himself being gathered up by the air around him, then flung. Trees flashed past. It’s a slingshot. No, it’s spitting me out with force!
The whirling space resolved itself into a dark country road. It was familiar to Gerald; he lay, dizzy and gasping, on the very route his caravan had taken to Feverton. Right behind him was the boundary of the Gnarl.
Gerald ignored the mild friction burns over his arms and legs. He simply stared out to the horizon, where the gleaming tower of Civil Outreach was a distant spark.
I’m out. I’ll make it home!
He caught his breath, then chuckled. Then erupted into laughter, slapping the ground with his palms. He didn’t know how long he celebrated hysterically.
Your Major Injury has worsened!
Your Max HP reduced by 2.
HP: 1/9
Gerald jolted from his stupor. With a pit growing in his stomach, he read the Gutted Man’s Boon properly.
Major Injuries near me will worsen... even my own?
He hauled himself onto his cane. There’s no time to waste.
He limped forward.
He rushed over the wispy grass.
His leg ached.
Gerald nearly stumbled on a rock. The deep night mocked him overhead.
His stomach rumbled with hunger.
His breaths came as ragged smoke.
Your Major Injury has worsened!
Your Max HP reduced by 2.
HP: 1/7
And the horizon was no closer. Gerald stopped to gasp into the dark. I can’t do this. If only I hadn’t gone out at night to kill a man. If I hadn’t buckled under Father Ache’s goading... If I had both legs... If I hadn’t been so belligerently drunk... If I hadn’t left my family.
If I hadn’t left my family. That’s the real mistake I made! Everything else was just consequences.
The [Penitent] bowed his head.
Then he grit his teeth and continued down the packed dirt road.
The wide, distant moon was the only celestial body in the sky.
It shone down on his muddy footprints.
Gerald hiked onward with unfocused eyes.
There was a distant rumbling.
Your Major Injury has worsened!
Your Max HP reduced by 2.
HP: 1/5
He hit the ground prone and couldn’t get up again.
He began to crawl.
The rumbling grew into a thunderous roar.
“Good lord! It’s that Emissary. He looks half-dead!”
Many hands were lifting him onto a stretcher. Gerald focused his gaze on a familiar mother.
“Desmond’s safe,” he rasped to her. “But I’ll die if I don’t reach the Jointed Chapel in the next few minutes.”
The shock in her eyes shattered under the weight of determination. Through a delirious haze, he felt himself being slung around a horse’s back. He woke and fainted several times; the galloping sent vibrations through his feeble body.
Your Major Injury has worsened!
Your Max HP reduced by 2.
HP: 1/3
He was barely conscious.
I won’t...
Your Major Injury has worsened!
Your Max HP reduced by 2.
HP: 1/1
...
You’ve returned to your deity.
Would you like to undergo Suzemony?
...
...Yes.