Spiteful Healer: Book One - A LitRPG Adventure, page 13
“Guild leader says if you don’t rejoin when you hit level 80 again, he’s coming after you.”
She huffed and closed the message window, then opened another set from a player named Nejina.
“I’m proud of you, go get him, girl! Make sure you don’t regret it!”
“Hope he appreciates what you gave up just to play with him.”
“Gimme all the juicy deets asap!”
A big smile stretched across her face as she wrote a response.
“I forgot I was only level 8 and almost got us both killed…”
“Best day ever!”
Chapter Nine
ROCKJAW AND ROLL
Eli awoke in his bed despite having fallen asleep in his sim-box. He was still wearing his clothes from the previous day, and his right shoulder felt sore, as if he’d pulled a muscle. He got up to see it was already early afternoon, and a piece of paper slipped off his bed.
You were up all night studying, right?
Work till 8, food in the fridge.
Love, Mom
P.S. accidentally banged your shoulder on the door frame trying to move you.
Winter devoured the sausage and eggs without bothering to warm them up, then drowsily returned to the sim-box. He briefly hovered over the office simulation, reflecting on the subject of his first exam on Monday.
“Eh, I’ve got it,” he nodded, selecting the Shattered World Online instead.
His ears were immediately filled with the sounds of pickaxes hitting stone echoing across the copper hills. Other players were already hard at work in the early morning hours of the game world.
He pulled out his own pickaxe and got to work. However, after an hour, he couldn’t help but feel he was spending his time inefficiently. He began scouting for ore that had a rockjaw nearby. It wasn’t long before he spotted one for the first time.
The rockjaw was a strange, bulky creature with stone-like skin, four short legs, and a round belly with a minuscule pointed tail. Its most defining feature was its giant lower jaw made of solid gray stone, so big it jutted out beyond its tiny black snout.
When Winter approached it, shield at the ready, the creature glanced at him, wiggled its pointed ears, opened its mouth wide, and snapped at him.
You take 15 piercing damage.
He managed to use Brace, but it still did some damage. Unlike the boars, the rockjaw did not run off to wind up another charge. Instead, it circled around him to try to bite from another angle, attacking at a much higher rate, but he could keep up.
“Okay, now, the hard part…” He carefully tracked the creature’s movement while raising his pickaxe and hitting the nearby ore deposit.
With his current mana regeneration and healing capacity, he could hold the rockjaw for a solid minute and gather 10 ore in the process before he had to flee. Rockjaws were much slower than boars, so he could run far enough that they lost interest, though he got a few quizzical stares from nearby miners as he did so.
From there, he planned out his day. Anytime he had full mana, he would mine near one of the creatures. Otherwise, he would mine normally. He felt lucky that the rockjaws did a damage type that barely registered through a shield.
It was a long, grindy process, but it was nothing compared to the long study sessions he was used to. No menial task was enough to deter him. The sun set and rose in the Shattered World Online twice, yet he continued to mine and mine.
After 48 in-game hours, he had reached level 6 in his Leather Armor Proficiency, level 15 in Shield Mastery, and Minor Heal reached level 7. From there, things began to pick up massively. He reached the point where he could take hits from a rockjaw indefinitely and pull them into their enrage, defeating them through exhaustion. It took significantly longer than the boars, but the experience started flowing in alongside his copper ore.
Harvesting the rockjaws sometimes yielded ore, as well as leather, meat, and salt. After experimenting with the salt and other spices, he got the hang of cooking delicious rockjaw steak that restored 5 stamina per minute for ten minutes and 10 stamina immediately upon consumption. He swore never to return to boar steak after this discovery; with it, his downtime became almost non-existent.
The only break he took was to eat dinner with his mother that night. Otherwise, he kept grinding on through the ore and rockjaws the entire weekend, sleeping only a few hours Sunday morning.
“That guy, does he ever log out?”
“Why does he let the rockjaws hit him while he’s mining? Why doesn’t he kill them?”
“I feel like I recognize him from somewhere.”
“That’s Makaroth’s son, the guy who couldn’t kill a boar.”
“Should we help him? I feel bad.”
“Leave him alone. He doesn’t need help. The kid is a spoiled millionaire and doesn’t need to be good at the game because of who his dad is.”
“Look, he’s not even taking it seriously.”
The comments from the onlookers and other miners were becoming a headache, but Winter learned to focus on the sounds of the rockjaws and rely on their grunts to time his Brace usage.
Every once in a while, a higher-level player would show up looking to level their Mining, and they’d explain to the low-level players what Winter was doing by mining and taking hits simultaneously. This would result in the gossiping players either calling him mental or trying to copy him and ending up dying to a rockjaw.
It wasn’t until Monday at around one in the morning real-time that he finally got the notification that he’d been struggling to get for the past six in-game days.
Quest Complete! 3/3 Copper ore mined [Quality: 50%+]: Return to Chief Miner Belthas
Level Up! Mining has reached [Level 13]!
“FINALLY! IRON!” Winter shouted triumphantly. He got applause from a few of the other miners who’d been mining and had avoided gossiping about him, but it died out quickly. Disappointed that he couldn’t brag to Davoth, or even Silentwire, as both were offline, he turned to the next best thing: Ruffily.
“IRONNNNN!” he cheered into the messaging interface.
“Woof! What?! Seriously?! You’ve barely started playing! How?!”
“Hard work!” Winter smirked as he began trekking toward Orm.
“No way! I mean, even I don’t have iron yet. I’ve been playing for a month. How did… Woof! You’re insane. Most players take two months.”
“I’m coming back to Orm. I can prove it.”
“I won’t be here, woof! I’ve got mining to do. I can’t fall behind!”
The messaging window closed, so Winter took the time to check the progress he’d made from his grand copper grind.
He’d hit level 5, and his Shield Mastery was now at level 16. Minor Heal was at level 12, and his Mining level had skyrocketed to 13. Most importantly, his inventory was packed with ore, leather, and rockjaw steaks. He did note that his Shield Mastery skill had stopped getting experience from the rockjaws toward the end, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment as he made his way back to Orm.
As he approached the village perimeter, he was interrupted by a message sent through the sim-box communicator.
“Eli, exams. Bed,” his mother commanded him.
Winter gazed at the Guildhall longingly before reluctantly exiting the simulation and climbing out of the sim-box.
“You’ve played all weekend and barely slept. You better ace those exams,” his mother scolded.
“I’ll be fine,” he yawned as he wobbled toward his bedroom.
“Pheeew, that was brutal,” Derrick sighed as hordes of students slowly piled out of school that Monday afternoon. “How’d you do? I saw you playing all weekend, so I know you didn’t study.”
“Eh, there was nothing unexpected on the exam,” Eli shrugged.
“Dammit, you’re like a walking textbook. The world isn’t fair,” Derrick groaned. “I’ve almost got the last skills for my Archer class, though. I know there are hidden ones, but, man, even the basic skills are rough to get. I should be back in Orm soon, hopefully. How are you doing with your class skills?”
“Uh… I’ve only got the starting ones…”
“You better step it up. Priests get some crazy support skills even before you go intermediate. What the heck have you been doing?”
“Mining. Oh, and I killed a boar boss with Selena.”
“The quiet girl?” Derrick glanced at the crowds of students around them, trying to find her. “Is she any good?”
“I think so. I mean, she killed a boss pretty fast. And I think she’s leveling faster than you.”
“That’s not fair—I rent my damn sim-box. How are you doing on the money front? Can you buy me one yet?”
“I got iron,” Eli grinned with pride.
“Damn, nice! You found some already?” Derrick looked impressed.
“N-no. I completed the quest to learn how to mine it. I haven’t even turned it in yet. Gonna start on that as soon as I get home.”
“What about the next exam tomorrow?”
“Eh… I’ll be okay.”
“So unfair,” Derrick groaned again. “Oh, you don’t watch any streams or news networks, right? You should know there’s something big happening on Barrok Island,” Derrick said as they reached the bus stop.
“Barrok?” Eli’s ears perked up with interest. “That’s the island my mom’s playing on.”
“Well, I hope she doesn’t own any land there. Some crazy abyssal invasion took place with these giant boss-level monsters—apparently, they went after the island stones that keep the islands from falling out of the sky. There was a top guild, I can’t remember the name—”
“Star Knights, eighth best-ranked guild in the world. The Juggernauts wiped the floor with them. I saw it live. It was crazy.” A random student next to them at the bus stop had jumped into their conversation, and Derrick pointed at him and gave a nod.
“Exactly. The island is in the process of sinking, so a bunch of players are loading up stuff on airships to escape. Apparently, all the players on Barrok are being forced to new islands, losing all their land and stuff.”
“It’s not that bad, though,” the stranger said. “I heard that anything they have in storage will get moved to their new island.”
“Can you put horses in storage?” Eli asked curiously.
“No,” Derrick replied.
“My mom is going to be so upset,” Eli sighed. The stranger put his hand on Eli’s shoulder to show sympathy.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said apologetically. Eli and Derrick looked at each other, and Derrick shrugged.
“At least she can come to Orm now, right?” Derrick replied.
“I heard most of the players are going to Savringard. Now that people know the Abyss can attack and sink islands out of the sky, they all want to go to the island with the number one player on it. Makaroth gave a speech, saying he’ll protect everyone on Savringard no matter what. It was pretty epic,” the boy said with enthusiasm.
In response, Eli lifted the stranger’s hand off his shoulder and dropped it to the side. “Hooray for Makaroth,” he cheered sarcastically.
When Eli walked through the front door, he heard muffled whimpering from the living room.
“Mom? Everything alright?”
“Oh Eli!” his mom wailed as she came around the corner holding a half-knitted horse made out of wool. “It’s terrible! Barrok… my horse Speedy, he…”
“Mom, it’s a virtual horse. You can get a new one in Kalmoore, can’t you?”
“Heartless…” she grumbled under her breath, but her crying cleared up almost immediately.
“What’s that?” He pointed to the half-knitted creature.
“I’m making a stuffed version of Speedy. To remember him by,” she replied as she returned to the living room.
“Aren’t you going to ask how my exam went?”
“Oh, I already know you aced it.” She waved at him dismissively before picking up her knitting tools. Eli chuckled.
“So you’re coming to Kalmoore now?”
“Yes, and you better have a new horse ready for me. I’ve already thought of a name. Spoody.”
“Very creative. Unfortunately, I’m fresh out of horses, so you’re on your own. I’ve got some crafting to do.”
“Then make me a nice bridle for Spoody,” she said as Eli ascended the stairs.
“Spoody doesn’t even exist yet.”
“Oh, Spoody will exist, don’t you worry. He’s going to be twice as fast as Speedy,” his mom called back as he reached the sim-box.
The moment he sat in it, iron was the only thing on his mind.
He logged in to the familiar village of Orm. The other players around him were abuzz with chatter of the Abyss Invasion and Barrok, but Winter went straight to the Craftsman Guildhall, heading into the basement to look for Belthas. When he got there, the Chief Miner was nowhere to be found, so he went back up to the front desk.
“Eh, y’alright there, Winter? What can I do for ye?” Hoggan asked as he looked up from some parchment on his desk.
“Looking for Belthas. I’ve finished the quest he gave me,” Winter replied.
“Ah, ol’ Belthas. He’s fallen ill like half the village. Ye ought to find him at the church with the others—the healer’s tryin’ to fix him up. I’d only go if it’s urgent.”
“Okay… thanks,” Winter replied with furrowed brows. He hadn’t been expecting something like sickness to affect NPCs, but he shrugged it off and headed toward the Church of Eirene.
When he walked inside, he saw that the interior had changed. The pews had been pushed against the far wall, and many beds sat in their place. Along with Priestess Clara, several other priests of Eirene and players were carrying potion bottles or trays of herbs to various patients resting in the beds. The patients themselves were sickly pale, sweating profusely, and coughing heavily—the ones who were awake had bloodshot eyes.
Taking a few steps inside, Winter got the attention of Priestess Clara, who rushed over to intercept him. “Good, you’ve finally returned. Have you found the source of the sickness?” she asked with desperation.
“No… what about those flowers you had me gather?” Winter asked.
“Yes, they slow it down, but this sickness has been created from a creature’s blood. If I don’t know what creature it is, I can’t cure it properly… I’m not good enough at alchemy. These other priests are trying…” She motioned to the other players pacing around the building, all looking extremely stressed.
“I thought it was just a quest…”
“Do you think I give out quests and tasks for fun?” Clara glared at him before storming away, tending to the patients again.
Winter shuffled through the church, looking at the many sick people of all ages and races. He spotted Belthas and headed toward him. He was conscious, staring at the church ceiling with another Eirene priest player tending to him.
“Ah, forget it, these stupid NPCs can all die. Eirene’s quests are dumb.” The player tossed an empty antidote vial to the floor in frustration, but Belthas didn’t even flinch. Winter waited for the player to storm off before stepping forward.
“Hey, Belthas, you alright?” Winter asked him.
“Ugh.” Belthas coughed as he tried to sit up. “Aye, ain’t no sickness gonna bring me down. Ye managed to get the copper, eh?”
“Yeah…”
“Good on ye, knew ye’d have the knack.” He coughed profusely. “Soon as I’m up ’n better, I’ll show ye what yer wantin’ to know. Just gotta rest a bit here.”
“Any chance you could show me now?” Winter asked but got a deadpan stare as a response. “Alright.”
He looked around the hall and saw the other players working hard to solve the quest, but all were low-level and looked as frustrated as the one who had stormed off. His hope that someone else would solve the quest for him dwindled.
He watched as Priestess Clara walked over to a young NPC lying on one of the beds and checked his pulse. She knelt over him, prayed, and motioned to another priest. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. The NPC was dead, and a few moments later, his body disintegrated from the game world. From his game study session, Winter knew that NPCs wouldn’t respawn once killed in order to simulate realism in the game world.
He looked around the room once more, seeing a girl crying over her mother, a little boy, and Belthas, among many others.
“Someone’s trying to kill my quest NPC,” he growled under his breath. “Alright.” Winter rolled his eyes and made for the exit. “Clara, I’m going. I’ll be back as soon as possible,” he announced grumpily.
“Please hurry,” she pleaded.
The moment Winter stepped out of the church, he went deep into thought, pacing up and down the busy village streets.
Who would poison the villagers of Orm? The first case happened before I arrived in Orm, so it’s unlikely to be related to me. It’s most likely an evil NPC. The targets were random and indiscriminate of race, gender, or age. That means the poisoner probably isn’t choosing targets specifically but rather poisoning through something they’d all come in contact with.
“The simplest explanation is usually the correct one. The easiest way to spread poison indiscriminately is…” he thought aloud.
He opened his messaging system to find Ruffily online.
Chapter Ten
AGENT WINTER, PRIEST DETECTIVE
“Ruffily, what’s the main water source for villagers in Orm?” Winter asked.
“Woof! Uhm, a river feeds into a well to the east. You can use that for smithing and farming. Drinking water for cooking and alchemy comes from the well in the center. Woof!” Ruffily replied.
“What about the fountain in the village square? Where does it get water?” Winter asked with a sense of urgency.
“The fountain pulls from the river, I’m pretty sure… Woof! Guards get mad if you try to touch it, though. Are you on a quest or something?”
