Book 1 Chapter 25 The Morning After and a New Direction
…
The battle raged on, an absolute nightmare of close-quarters combat for the bandits, but a bizarre, detached game of managing cooldown timers for Rowan. Rowan's arm was already healed after the activation of the Springwater.
The System's automated defense and attack sequences were relentless, treating the battlefield like an elaborate slot machine of violence.
Bandits 9, 10, and 11, seeing their comrades dropping like flies, lunged simultaneously.
Here comes the real pain, Rowan braced himself.
Bandit Grunt 9 (Short Sword) targets Body. Damage: 1. Defense: 4. Damage Taken: 0. Status: Normal.
Bandit Grunt 10 (Long Knife) targets the Left Leg. Damage: 1. Defense: 0. Damage Taken: 2. Remaining HP: 3/3/3/3/1/3. Status: Severed (Left Leg).
Bandit Grunt 11 (Cleaver) targets Head. Damage: 4. Defense: 5. Damage Taken: 0. Status: Normal.
The blow to his left leg was agonizing. The System, without a shred of dramatic flair, informed him he no longer had a left leg that worked. The HP display immediately confirmed his horrific injury: HP: 3/3/3/3/1/3.
He now knew that even though the Springwater is miraculous, in battle, it is only one-time use. He could only wait for the battle to end before he could recover his leg's full function.
Rowan stumbled, his weight shifting violently. He was now relying entirely on his good right leg, his body leaning heavily to the left. He could now feel a pang of pain coming from his leg, which made him grimace a bit.
The 2 Thorns activated after he received the attacks. The two thorns hit Bandit 10 first as he was the closest to Bandit 9, who attacked first.
Instead of the gentle prick, this one was focused. It hit the neck of Bandit 10, the one who had taken his leg, as he raised his weapon for a follow-up strike.
Thorns activated on Bandit Grunt 10. Damage: 2. Remaining HP: 0/2/2/2/2/2. Status: Dead.
A clink sound followed by a flash of green light, which pricked the neck of the attacker and the life of Bandit 10. The system was a cruel, efficient god of balance.
The other bandits momentarily hesitated, looking at Rowan, who was now standing on one leg, his face pale, but still—impossibly—fighting back.
But before they could do anything, the effect of the Thorns also attacked the two Bandits. Leaving them stunned.
Then, the Travel Bag's random effect chose this exact, precarious moment to chime in.
Travel Bag (2x2) Effect Triggered: 10% Chance Healing!
Heal: 5 HP applied across injured body parts.
Left Leg HP: 1 -> 3 (Healed).
Rowan felt a strange, internal squish sensation, and the agony in his arm vanished. His left leg, which was supposed to be useless for walking, now felt brand new and strong. The HP bar updated: HP: 3/3/3/3/3/3.
Now that his weapons were ready again, the counter-attack was brutal.
The Wooden Sword finished its 1.8s CD: Bandit 9, head. Damage 2. Dead.
The Stone Knife finished its 2.1s CD: Bandit 11, chest. Damage 4. Dead.
The battle turned into an assembly line of death. Rowan, leaning on a nearby tree, was now just an observer to his own automated rampage. He wasn't dodging; he was simply allowing the Mysterious Vest's +2 Defense and the random chance of the Travel Bag to absorb and fix the damage while his floating arsenal worked its magic.
Bandits 12 and 13, the last two, finally turned tail and attempted to flee.
The System, however, had an excellent range.
Wooden Sword (1.8s CD) activated on Bandit Grunt 12 (Range: 3 meters) (Back). Damage: 3. Remaining HP: 2/0/2/2/2/2. Status: Dead.
Stone Knife (2.1s CD) activated on Bandit Grunt 13 (Range: 3 meters) (Back). Damage: 2. Remaining HP: 2/2/0/2/2/2. Status: Stunned/Fainted.
The Wooden Sword, traveling beyond its listed 3-meter range with a burst of phantom speed that Rowan couldn't explain, struck Bandit 12 with a force that shattered his spine. Bandit 13 was merely knocked unconscious because he saw his left hand getting severed. The guy might be afraid of blood or something.
Why leave one alive? Rowan mentally questioned the AI.
Target 13 is neutralized (Fainted). Combat operations complete.
Ah, efficiency.
The final, glorious chime sounded in Rowan's head, immediately healing his arm and his partially-regenerated-but-still-useless leg. HP: 3/3/3/3/3/3. Status: Normal. He stood up straight, his body feeling pristine, as if the last five minutes of near-decapitation and limb severance had been nothing more than a bad dream.
Combat Summary:
Bandits Neutralized: 13 (12 killed, 1 fainted).
Experience Gained: 13 EXP. (Current EXP: 129/200).
System Coins Gained: 1.3 coins. (Current Coins: 8.3).
Post-Battle Bag Summary:
Sackcloth: Generated 13 Thorns. Total Thorns: 15.
Rowan looked at the thirteen fresh bodies—and the one still-breathing, unconscious Bandit 13—and then down at his perfectly intact legs. He felt utterly disconnected from the violence he had just facilitated. It was like he had been piloting a murderous drone made of invisible wood and stone.
"Well, that was tedious," he said, pushing himself off the tree.
…
The immediate need for survival having passed, the mundane, yet critical, task of resource acquisition began. Rowan had learned quickly that in this world, money and items were everything. And the corpses were excellent sources of both.
"You," he muttered, giving the man a gentle kick to ensure he was truly out. "You're a liability."
Rowan debated what to do with the survivor. Killing him was easy, but he might have information. He approached the unconscious Bandit 13 first. He saw the severed stump and quickly healed it using the salve.
He settled on a non-lethal, highly effective solution: tying him up with strips of cloth torn from a dead bandit's tattered shirt and placing him well out of sight.
Then, the meticulous, if slightly gross, process of looting the fallen thirteen began. This was less a search for gold and more a collection of scraps. Most of the bandits carried low-quality iron knives or axes, rusted and poorly maintained. A few had coin purses, and one lucky brute had an almost new-looking leather tunic.
The System has a clear pricing schedule for junk, Rowan thought, pulling a handful of tarnished silver coins from a water-logged pouch.
He separated the non-system loot from the potential system-sellable items.
Non-System Loot: 120 silver coins in total, an assortment of rusted belt buckles, and three half-eaten pieces of dried jerky.
System-Sellable Junk (Weapons/Armor): 12 low-quality knives, 3 cracked wooden shields (not the system kind), 1 slightly functional leather vest.
He opened his System interface, pulling up the 'Sell' tab. The prices were laughably low, reflecting the junkyard quality of the items, but every fractional coin counted.
12x Rusted Knives: 0.12 coins.
3x Cracked Shields: 0.09 coins.
1x Leather Vest (Non-System): 0.08 coins.
...Assorted scrap (0.01 per piece): 0.41 coins.
Total Value of Junk: 0.70 System Coins.
He hit the "Sell All" button. The junk weapons instantly evaporated from his hands with a sound like a tiny, disappointed poof, and his coin total updated.
Current System Coins: 8.3 + 0.7 = 9.0 Coins.
Nine coins. That's a respectable amount. Almost enough to buy a Shell Fruit or a decent weapon, he mused. But Rowan had a reservation, a strategic purchase he had delayed for too long.
He navigated to the 'Shop' tab, selecting his long-reserved item.
Wooden Shield: 4 Coins / 2x2 square / 25 Defense / Block 2 damage.
"It's time. I'm tired of my limbs getting crippled by blunt objects," he declared to the forest floor, executing the purchase.
Purchase Confirmed: Wooden Shield (4 Coins).
Current System Coins: 9.0 - 4.0 = 5.0 Coins.
Wait, what?
Rowan checked the logs. He had 7 coins before the last fight. He gained 1.3, putting him at 8.3. After selling junk, he was at 9.0. Buying the shield costs 4.0.
Current System Coins: 5.0 Coins.
Purchase Confirmed: Wooden Shield (4 Coins).
Rowan ignored the confusing flicker in the coin ledger and focused on the new item: a perfectly sized, highly durable, phantom-wood Wooden Shield. He mentally dragged the 2x2 shield into his grid while removing the Leather cap.
Perfect. Maximum utilization of grid space. He had squeezed the shield after removing the Leather cap. The shield immediately equipped itself, an invisible, intangible layer of defense appearing on his left arm, ready to automatically intercept incoming blows. He was now slightly safer. As safe as one can be while standing in a pile of bodies with a magic shield on one arm and a crippled leg that has just miraculously become better.
After experiencing such a scene many times now, Rowan still could not describe the feeling.
He carefully counted his 13 Thorns. He just looked at the thirteen Thorns in the Sackcloth's infinite non-grid storage.
Final Inventory Check (System):Coins: 5.0EXP: 129/200 (Level 2)Reserved: Red Fruit Equipped/Active: Stone Knife, Wooden Sword, Springwater, Wooden Shield, Mysterious Vest (+2 Def), Sackcloth, Travel Bag, Pouch.Non-Grid Storage: 13 Thorns, 3 Cultivation Manuals (Raging Tiger Claw, Qi Breathing, Basic Alchemy), a Leather cap, and a few hundred non-system coins.
With the immediate threat neutralized and his inventory optimized, Rowan gathered the three pieces of jerky, placing them deep within the folds of his robe. It was time to return to Captain Gong.
…
Rowan walked back to the camp, his gait normal, the System having fully repaired his left leg—a small miracle he no longer wasted time being amazed by. He found Captain Gong and the two guards exactly where he had left them.
"The commotion... it stopped," Captain Gong whispered, eyes wide with residual fear and disbelief.
"They're gone. All of them," Rowan confirmed, keeping the details of the highly technical, automated slaughter to himself. "We need to move before anyone else finds us."
The healing salve had worked wonders. The sickly green color had faded, replaced by rapidly knitting skin. Captain Gong, though still fatigued, was able to move.
"That salve," Captain Gong said, rubbing his forearm. "It works fast, but I swear... I spent the last three hours contemplating the cosmic insignificance of bread."
"It's a side effect of the rare fungus I used. Very potent," Rowan said dismissively. See? Existential dread. Knew it.
They spent the remainder of the evening preparing the surviving cart—the one that still had two functional wheels—to carry the supplies and the injured guards. Rowan used a shovel from a merchant's cart to dig a single, massive, shallow grave for everyone else. It was the least he could do. He didn't include the fainted Bandit 13, who he simply left tied to a tree a few hundred meters away, a strange, silent message to anyone else who might follow.
As the sun began to rise, painting the forest in hues of grey and soft orange, the small group started their slow, difficult journey back toward Slow Turtle Town's territory.
Captain Gong, ever the professional, was immediately focused on the original mission.
"They were talking about the Mayor's children," Captain Gong said, leaning heavily on a walking stick Rowan had fashioned for him. "Kang Hana and Kang Hajin. The bandits were agitated, saying they had the Mayor's children, and they were supposed to deliver them to a 'Master of the Mountain' before a certain moon-phase."
Rowan listened, his mind already cross-referencing this with the local rumors. The Mayor's children were highly publicized as missing.
"Where would they go?" Rowan asked.
Gong pointed toward a heavily wooded, rocky ridge that dominated the horizon to the northeast. "That's the 'Mountain.' It's where all the local ruffians and smugglers hide. But 'Master of the Mountain' sounds like they're heading to a proper hideout. They wouldn't keep valuable hostages at a roadside shack."
He pulled out a crudely drawn map, which was more of a child's doodle than a navigational tool, and traced a path along the base of the ridge.
"Based on the tracks, the bulk of the bandits—the ones who took the mayor's daughter and son—went this way. They're heading for the Stonefang Stronghold. It's the closest, largest bandit encampment in Slow Turtle territory."
Rowan knew this was the logical endpoint. The initial ambush was likely just a distraction or a means to collect supplies before the main party moved on. The Mayor's children, a daughter who was a capable swordswoman and a skilled swordsman son, were a high-value target. Their safe return would net a massive reward and secure their position in the town.
This is no longer a simple scouting mission. It's a rescue mission.
Rowan glanced back at the two limping guards and the still-recovering Captain Gong. He was the only fully functional, high-HP unit they had. He looked at the floating grid and felt his new, intangible Wooden Shield. He had enough money to buy food for months, but he couldn't just walk away. The System had forced him into a position of competence, and his phlegmatic temperament, combined with his inherent disdain for injustice, meant he was now, ridiculously, the key component of a high-risk operation.
"If the children are heading for Stonefang Stronghold," Rowan stated, adjusting his grip on the cart handle, "then that's where we're going."
Captain Gong looked at him, surprised. "We? Lad, you've done enough. We can track them, and then I'll send one of the guards back to town for a proper fighting force."
Rowan shook his head. "We don't have time. They mentioned a 'moon-phase.' That sounds like a deadline."
He turned his gaze toward the ominous ridge. The next move was clear. They had to follow the trail.