Chapter 63 - What Doesn't Kill You... (Patreon)

Zeke’s eyes fluttered open, and he was greeted by the sight of Abby leaning over him, an expression of concern painted across her face. More than that, there was a set of notifications flashing across his status.

Congratulations! You have endured a deadly poison, letting it infuse your entire body. By doing so, you have unlocked [Resistances]!

He blinked a couple of times before reading the next notification.

Poison and Arcane Resistances increased by five!

Finally, he read the last one.

Resistant – You have endured the agony of unlocking your resistances before level twenty-five. +5 to All Resistances.

Zeke didn’t know what to think of the notifications, so to get a better idea, he opened his status. When he did, he was confronted by a noticeable change to the familiar screen.

“What happened? Are you okay?” asked Abby. “You look like you’re about to throw up.”

“Hmph,” came another, grittier voice. “As if he has anything in his stomach.”

“Calm down, Hawthorne,” Abby said, turning to an old man with wispy eyebrows who stood at the foot of Zeke’s bed. “It’s not his fault he got poisoned.”

The man harumphed again, saying, “Reasonable people don’t put themselves in a position to get poisoned, girl. Normal, rational people don’t piss of the goddamn Crystal Spiders!”

“We going to have a problem?” Abby asked, facing the man. Zeke could hear the threat in her voice.  “Because the way I remember it, you agreed to keep your mouth shut about that.”

Hawthorne took a step back, wringing his hands as he said, “N-no. No problem. Just…ah…there’s no problem at all.”

Abby said, “Good.”

Finally, Zeke managed to find his voice. “What the heck is going on here?” he croaked, his throat dry and scratchy. Reaching up to massage his temples, he added, “Why do I feel like somebody’s been beating on my head with a hammer? And what are resistances? I mean, I know what the word means, but is that something normal?”

Abby narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

“I’ve got new entries on my status,” he explained. “A bunch of different resistances. You know, poison, disease, fire – that kind of thing. And I got an achievement.”

“That’s impossible,” stated the older man.

“Yeah, it kind of isn’t because I’m staring at it right now,” Zeke said. “Five in most of them, then ten in poison and arcane.”

“I…I…”

“Um, I have no idea what any of that even means,” Abby admitted. She turned to the older man. “Hawthorne?”

He ran his hand through his unruly, white hair and turned around, mumbling to himself as he paced back and forth across the small basement. “It makes sense, but I’ve never heard of anything like this. Resistances at level fourteen…”

“Hawthorne!” Abby shouted, jerking the man to out of his mumblings. When she had his attention, she ordered, “Explain.”

“Okay, so it’s not uncommon for people at level twenty-five to unlock a second level of defense against magic,” he explained. Then, ticking off his fingers, he went on, “Elemental types. Poison and disease. And arcane, which is pure magic. I’ve heard of a few people who’ve unlocked them a few levels early, but most people don’t even believe those are real. I don’t…it just isn’t…this is far beyond my expertise.”

Sitting up, Zeke took the opportunity to assess his body. The poison he’d been fighting with the combination of his own mana and the stolen vitality seemed to be gone, but he felt weaker than he had since waking up in the troll caves. He glanced up, inspecting the old man.

Remus Hawthorne – Level 17

Over the next few seconds, Zeke’s muddled mind started putting some of the pieces of his memory back together, and he started to remember everything that had led him to this point. The assassin guild, getting shot by a half-dozen poisoned crossbow bolts, the mad dash to Beacon, and the healer.

“You saved me,” he said, locking eyes with the old man. “Thank you.”

“He didn’t do it for you,” Abby scoffed. “I paid this asshole a small fortune – which you’re paying me back, by the way. He would’ve let you die on the street if I hadn’t paid him.”

“Young lady, I am a certified healer who –”

Abby interrupted him, saying, “Don’t even think about denying it. You might’ve once been a priest in the Church of Purity, but you got kicked out, remember? So, don’t act all high and mighty with me. I know who and what you are.”

“And what’s that?” he asked, a challenging glint in his eye.

“A parasite who feeds off of disease and pestilence,” she stated. “You’re a necessary evil, but never for a second think that you’re anything more than that. You forfeited that right when you –”

The man harumphed again, then said, “Very well, then. If you think so little of me, then I expect you out of my home as soon as he recovers his strength.”

Abby reached into her pocket, then flipped another coin to the spindly, old man. He caught it deftly. “I’ll need the cellar for the day, then we’re gone. Is that acceptable?”

For a moment, Zeke expected Hawthorne to refuse, but after only an instant’s hesitation, he said, “Fine. Be gone by tomorrow morning. Otherwise…”

Abby cut him off with another glare. The man responded with a shake of his head before turning and mounting the stairs back to the first floor. As soon as the door shut behind him, Abby turned to Zeke and asked, “So – how are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” was his truthful response. “Head’s pounding, my stomach’s twisted into knots, and every muscle feels like it’s on the verge of a cramp. Oh, and I can barely lift my arms, I’m so weak. So…not great.”

“Well, you did almost die,” Abby stated.

Zeke shook his head, saying, “How, though? You got shot when we killed the goblins, right? And you didn’t have any issues. I know my vitality is like twice as high as yours, so what happened?”

“Probably closer to three times,” Abby said. “But you have to understand, Zeke – that’s one of the nastiest poisons around. At least according to Hawthorne. And you had six of those bolts in you. I had one, and I got it out in like a second. My vitality, coupled with the stolen life energy from [Leech Strike] overcame it before it had a chance to do much. But you had them in you for a few minutes, at least. Hawthorne said that he’s seen level twenty-plus people die to that poison, and with way less exposure.”

He sighed, tilting his head back on the pillow. It wasn’t the first time he’d come close to death, but being poisoned was far different than being run through by a troll spear. For the last couple of years, Zeke had been living a life of unrelenting violence, so he’d come to expect a certain amount of danger. Poison was different, though, and it wasn’t the first time he’d been forced to confront it. The drachnid champion’s poison had nullified the vast majority of his healing, and because of that, it had almost killed him. And now, he had to worry about a guild of assassins running around with poisoned crossbow bolts?

“This is a crazy world,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” Abby said, not needing a further explanation. “But at least you’ve got a way to fight against poison, now. I wonder how effective those resistances are.”

Zeke pushed himself into an upright position. “No idea,” he said. “But considering that it’s rare, I think it’s safe to assume they’re pretty good. I just wish there was more information about all of this, you know? I mean, I feel like I’m flying blind here.”

“Everyone feels like that,” Abby stated.

“But why? Why aren’t there schools or something? Why don’t people share information?” he asked, imagining some sort of orientation for people who’d been freshly reborn. It was almost chuckle-worthy, thinking about a bunch of people wielding spears and axes and clubs sitting in a college auditorium as a learned wizard in a robe lectured about stats and skills.

Abby shook her head, then sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s about power,” she said. “The people who know the most are the ones in charge, and they want to stay that way. Sure, there’s some level of information sharing in guilds and the like, and some high-level people take apprentices and stuff, but for the most part, the prevailing attitude in this world is one that protects knowledge because…well…”

“Please don’t say knowledge is power.”

“I wasn’t going to!” she insisted, though Zeke saw a slight reddening of her cheeks.

Deciding to change the subject, he said, “I don’t even know how long I’ve been out. Did you go to your guild? Did you get the stuff to evolve your race?”

She nodded, saying, “Yeah. You were only unconscious for a day. It gave me the time to get an alchemist to blend everything together, too.”

She leaned over and reached into her pack, which lay on the floor beside the bed, and retrieved a vial that might’ve held about twelve ounces of glowing, red fluid. “One racial evolution potion, right here,” she said. “This potion is worth about three times as much as your entire net worth.” She gave a nervous laugh. “You have no idea how nervous I was bringing it back from the alchemist’s shop.”

“You thought someone would rob you? Is crime a huge issue in Beacon?” was his next question.

She shrugged. “Not really,” she said. “I mean, it’s there. Especially on the outskirts and the first level. But higher…not really. It’s more that it was just ridiculously valuable. It’s fine, though. Not a big deal.”

“What now?”

“Well, once you feel a little stronger, I’m going to take this potion,” she said, waggling the vial. “It’ll put me out for a while. Maybe eight hours or so while it does its thing.”

“Because of the pain, right? When I did it, it felt like I was melting from the inside out,” Zeke stated, shuddering at the memory. More than once, he’d wondered what had driven him to keep going. He was confident in his willpower, but that incident had felt like someone else was driving his body.

“That’s because you took entirely unprocessed ingredients,” she said. “This is a lot milder, and it’s been combined with a sedative and a regeneration potion. I won’t feel a thing.”

“That seems a little unfair,” he muttered, his thoughts still dwelling on the unrelenting pain he’d been forced to endure when he’d combined the mana water and the blue-spotted mushrooms in his own mouth. It’d been like swallowing acid, and still stood as easily the most painful experiences of his life. And that was saying something, considering his experiences in the intervening years.

Abby shrugged, a tight smile playing across her lips. “Work smarter, not harder?” she suggested.

“Whatever,” he said. “So, can I borrow your satchel, then? Once I feel a little better, I plan to visit an armorer or something so I can see about using those carapaces I got from the queen and that champion.”

“You don’t want me to go with you? Show you around a little?” she asked, grinning.

He said, “I don’t need you to babysit me, Abby. I’m perfectly capable of exploring a city by myself.”

“That’s not…I just…I only thought it’d be fun to show you the sights,” she said, looking away as her smile dropped. “But that’s fine…”

“I didn’t mean –”

“No, it’s fine,” she said.

“Look,” Zeke said, reaching out to grip her hand. “I want you to show me the sights, okay? I do. I only wanted to get something commissioned as soon as possible so it’d be ready for whatever the guild initiation is going to be. That’s it. I’m not trying to be a jerk here. We’re a team, right? That’s not going to change just because we finally made it to civilization.”

After a second, Abby pulled her hand away, saying, “I know that. Give me a minute, and I’ll write down directions to some armorers who can probably work with that carapace.”

“Abby, I –”

“It’s fine, Zeke,” she said, looking back at him. He knew he’d made a misstep, but he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done wrong. His reasoning was perfectly logical, and besides, there would be plenty of time for sightseeing in the coming weeks.

Zeke remained silent as Abby retrieved a charcoal pencil and a piece of parchment from her satchel. After making a few notes, she handed him the piece of parchment and said, “There are three armorers here. Luigi is the best, but he’s kind of an asshole. I think you’d probably get along, but if you don’t, Theresa’s the second-best. Only go to Gina if the other two turn you down.”

“Abby, I –”

“You mind if I use the bed? I want to get this evolution out of the way as quickly as we can so I don’t have to deal with Hawthorne for any longer than absolutely necessary,” she stated, her voice mostly expressionless.

Zeke didn’t know much about women – or even men, come to that – but he wasn’t so socially inept that he couldn’t read the room. Abby was upset, and anything he said would only dig him deeper into the hole. So, he just nodded and levered himself out of bed. His legs were wobbly, but he managed to steady himself by leaning on the wall. More, he’d been stripped down to his underwear.

“Let me get dressed,” he said. “And I’ll leave you to it.”

He summoned a shirt and a pair of pants from his spatial storage, and as he dressed, Abby said, “Tell Hawthorne to check in on me once an hour. I’ll pay him the normal rate.”

As Zeke pulled on his pants, he nodded and said, “Anything else? Want me to watch over you?”

“No.”

After that, Zeke dressed in silence, grabbed the satchel, then retreated upstairs, wishing he hadn’t said all the wrong things.

As he shut the door behind him with a sigh, he heard the now-familiar voice of Hawthorne say, “Don’t worry about it, boy. She’s never been the easiest person to deal with. She’ll be right as rain in a couple of days.”

Zeke could only hope the old healer was right and that he hadn’t just ruined his relationship with the only friend he had in the new world.