Chương 17: Good Union

Jordan's inaugural combat 'victory'. Yet the system made sure to remind him of his shortcomings. [Doom Spiral (Lv. 1)] has reset. Three consecutive successful rolls are required to cure the Affliction. Of course. The first two rolls had been gimmes compared to this latest feat of acrobatics. A feat Jordan had attempted and failed spectacularly. The perfect launching pad for a bona fide doom spiral (system or no). And Jordan might well have gone that way, were he not so distracted by the pain in his arm.

He tried to push himself up, then found he had no strength in his right arm. He rolled onto his back with another grunt of pain, then looked down fearfully. His right hand plus a bit of the forearm dangled from an extra joint that shouldn't have been there. Jordan looked away and shut his eyes tight, fighting to stay conscious. Oh, this is bad. I don't know what it is exactly, but it's bad. Intelligence DC 15: success Fuxi:"Fractures of the distal radius and ulna.

Clean breaks, judging by the mechanism of injury, and therefore likely to enjoy good union in healing." Fuxi said it as if they were delivering good news. Jordan appreciated the gesture but couldn't quite vibe with the sentiment. Holy shit, it really was broken bones. I'd never broken a bone back on Earth, and now I've gone and done it inside a video game. Just how much does this world hate me? Then again… what did it say about Jordan that he'd never broken something in 32 years of life?

That he took his calcium like his mom had always pestered him to? That he was a generally careful and coordinated guy? Or that he'd led a boring and risk-averse life for 32 years? The answer was some ratio of all of the above, and frankly, he didn't know how to feel about that. At least not while his right arm was screaming for medical attention. So, on this occasion, he gladly delegated his thought process to some [Gossipy] gods. Dexterity DC 14: failure Nezha:"Seriously, human, how fragile are you humans?

Breaking apart at the slightest provocation. Remind me never to spar with you, for fear I might bore myself to death." Constitution DC 16: failure Xihe:"The blind kitten hunts its prey by scent and sound. The two-legged dog learns to walk like an upright ape. You, earthborn, may yet reach out and take from nature's bounty, even if less an arm." Despite everything, Jordan had to laugh at that. So dramatic, so absurd.

And yet, maybe absurdist humor (intentional or no) was exactly the sort of thing that would get him through this latest disaster.

"What's so funny?" Jordan reopened his eyes to find Canyon's rectangle peering down at him. Her brow was visibly creased. Whether in concern or annoyance, Jordan wouldn't hazard a guess.

"That's between me and my gods," he quipped, not quite knowing what came over him. He immediately regretted it as Canyon's frown deepened (definitely annoyance this time). In hindsight, it might've come across as aloof, which certainly hadn't been his intention. Aloof patient or no, it proved to be no obstacle to Canyon offering some first aid. CANYON of AMBER LAKE cast: Cure Wounds. The effect was instantaneous.

Jordan suddenly felt 'lighter', as all the minor cuts, scrapes, and bruises he'd suffered during the fall reversed themselves. Almost as magical as a mother kissing away a young child's boo-boo. JORDAN YU healed for: 25 HP. From [163/218] to [188/218]. No big difference in the grand scheme of things, but Jordan was grateful nonetheless. Even more so when he heard what Canyon had to say next.

"I'm sorry." She sounded like she meant the apology, snobbish and muffled and all.

"That's about all I can do at my current VR. I… normally don't carry around a lot of mana." A pink flush crept into the edges of her rectangle. Nothing to be embarrassed about, Jordan wanted to tell her, then thought better of it. Not like it would be convincing coming from him. Instead, he settled for a weak smile, which quickly turned to a wince at another throb of pain in his arm.

"Yes," Canyon said, "I also regret to inform you that [Cure Wounds] is the only healing spell I know. As such, I don't have a way to mend your arm. We'd better—" If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"I do." A moment later, Foxhill swam into view, crouching next to Jordan and looking decidedly pissed off. Clearly, the man wasn't entirely happy about the outcome of the battle. Nor was he particularly eager to dispense this supposed cure.

"I know [Set Bone]," he explained, looking and sounding like he'd rather be doing anything but.

"Comes in handy when you're out and about in the wilderness all the time. But it's an off-spec spell for a Pathfinder like me. So, y'know, it's really expensive for me to cast. Probably upwards of 200 cc for something like your injury, Mister." Understandable, Jordan nearly said. As a Vesselia veteran, he knew the importance of being frugal with your VR spend. But then…

"You can't seriously be suggesting we leave him like this." Canyon jumped to the patient's defense, rather unexpectedly at that.

"Until we reach Featherift City, he's your party member. Even if he weren't, he has a broken arm. He's in pain."" Party? You can't seriously be suggesting he played any part in that fight! Brother only has himself to blame for that broken arm. Should've stayed inside the cabin like I told him to."

"He tried to fend off that last Grandelope from the horses. Certainly managed to startle the beast some, enough to buy us the time to react. I urge you to reconsider, Pathfinder. If it's mana you're worried about, I could compensate you with the equivalent in silver." Technically, Jordan recalled sheepishly to himself, I was trying to fend it off from you. He thought it best not to voice the correction, and was rewarded for his discretion with a…

"For real?" Foxhill raised one eyebrow, smile nearly making a comeback.

"Well, in that case, Miss, I'll hold you to it. And you hold still, Mister." FOXHILL of SANDY QUARRY cast: Set Bone. Jordan winced again as the pain got worse for a brief second. The effect was not so instantaneous. Or perhaps less noticeable. The pain was still there, and so was the swelling, but Jordan could be convinced that his forearm felt somewhat more stable than a moment ago. He tried to move it, then was stopped by Canyon's hand on his.

"Don't do that yet. The bones will need a few hours to finish healing." That was how he made direct contact with her skin for the first time. It was hot. Like… really, unnaturally hot. Hot like burning coal or the heat wafting from an oven. So much so he nearly jerked his hand back in alarm. Thankfully, Canyon withdrew hers first. She then used the same hand to tear off a sizable piece from the hem of her cloak.

"Can you sit up?" she asked, seeming not to care about the pale ankle she'd just exposed to the world.

"Uh, I think so," Jordan stammered, very much aware of the pale ankle Canyon had just exposed to the world. The Chronicler then proceeded to wrap his arm in an improvised sling. The result looked credible to Jordan, like something out of a first aid textbook. But the way Canyon went about it betrayed a certain clumsiness, like the procedure was 'off-spec' for someone from her walk of life. In the end, however, Jordan was able to stand up and move around more or less freely. He directed an enthusiastic "Thanks!"

at Canyon, then mumbled the same to Foxhill.

"Yeah, yeah," the Pathfinder said, still sounding somewhat irritated. He then reached across to give something to Jordan. In his hand was a good-sized knife, handle first.

"Uh, what's this for?"

"Now that you've gotten over your injury, Mister, you can help me harvest the mana loot." Jordan blinked." Harvest? From where?" Now it was Foxhill's turn to blink, though perhaps for a very different reason.

"Is this some Westerner joke I'm not twigging? From all those Grandelopes we just killed, where else? Look, I already got us started." Foxhill held up a… small bag? A large bean? The thing had a smooth surface, glistening with a substance that looked upsettingly like mucus. It also appeared to give off a faint bioluminescence—a pinkish, rosy sort of light. Jordan gasped with realization. It's the Gland of Rushing Steppe— the Grandelope's Vessel. Holy shit.

In real-life Vesselia, you just cut the thing out of the monster's carcass?

"Right," Foxhill went on, ignoring Jordan's obvious amazement.

"I'm going to take one of the horses and go all the way back to [Grandelope A]. Miss Canyon, think you could take the other one and go about halfway?" The Chronicler nodded as though it was a matter of course.

"Mister Jordan, you go on foot; start from this end and work your way in reverse. First one should be [Grandelope L], only a hundred yards or so thataway. Do as many as you can, and we'll meet back up in the middle."

"D—do we have to harvest all of them? Isn't [Grandelope A] like—""A mile back from here? Probably. And what're you, crazy? You're godsdamned right we have to harvest all of them! No way we'd leave all that free mana to the wolves after I spent so much VR killing the damn things in the first place… and fixing your arm." Jordan cut an uncertain look at Canyon, who seemed utterly unperturbed by Foxhill's spiel. He understood then. This was the way of Vesselia, and he—as a veteran—shouldn't have forgotten.

Maybe if he hadn't been thrown off by the Gland's visceral appearance. Speaking of which…

"Um. This is my first time cutting out a Gland of Rushing Steppe. Or any Gland for that matter. You guys have any tips?" Foxhill sighed, not bothering to hide his rising irritation. Canyon jumped in, somehow both snobbish and patient at once.

"More often than not, monsters keep their Vessel where it's directly involved in the spellcasting. In the Grandelope's case, that would be next to its lungs. Make a shallow incision in the fourth intercostal space, and you should be able to find it if you dig around a little. A Grandelope has just the one Gland, so make sure to check both sides if you don't find it in one of them." Jordan blinked some more. You both make it sound so easy, but do you realize what an extraordinary task this is for me?

Of course they didn't. Foxhill first then Canyon rode off into the distance, leaving a 'Westerner' alone to dissect his first monster.