Chapter 170: Cold-blooded logic

“I hope you know that wasn’t a joke, that was rage bait, but it was close enough that I’ll consider your task fulfilled.” Lord Bakton said as they limped toward Will’s caravan.

“You did laugh.” Will pointed out.

“I laughed because that was some audacious bullshit, not because it was a funny joke. You just said something to piss me off and exploited a moment of anger. Inflicting less damage than I did, by the way.”

“You don’t think you’d have trouble fighting without a thumb?” Will asked.

“Not as much as you would have with that gash in your core. Try kicking me, I dare you.”

“Screw you,” Will said with a chuckle, his hand stemming the bleeding and preventing any of his guts from spilling out. “Ow.”

“I gotta say, the scar’s pretty cool, though.” Bakton mused. “I never looked like an accomplished swordsman because no one’s ever been able to give me a scar. Now when people ask about it, I can say I got it from William Oh.”

“Hah! No scars? Not even when you were learning?” Will asked.

Bakton shook his head.

“Me and the sword have been fast friends since I picked up my first wooden blade. It would never turn against me. My instructors were too good to hurt me by accident and my peers lost the opportunity practically overnight. And now a sixteen year old kid is the first to give me my profession’s beauty mark.”

“And it’s a nice one, straight down the face, right at the golden ratio. Couldn’t ask for better,” Bakton said, sliding his thumb down the freshly healed scar in his eyebrow and cheek.

“Huh. Sorry about the thumb.” Will apologized.

“It’ll sort itself out,” Bakton said, flexing the appendage. “Still a bit stiff, but I expect it’ll fade.”

“Cool. Follow up question: Why the Abyss did your healers not heal me!?” Will demanded.

“Because you told them they were too expensive, and you had healers at home.”

“…I don’t remember that.” Will replied, glancing down at the bloody rag held tight over his stomach.

“That’s because you’re slipping in and out of shock.”

“Shock? I was in way more pain when you dragged me around the arena and riddled my skin with shrapnel.” Will mused.

“Common misconception. Shock is more about blood loss than pain.” Bakton said.

“Wow, learn something new every day. I really want to take a nap. Is it okay if I take a nap?” Will asked.

“After we get you healed up and then a bite to eat.” Bakton said, patting Will’s shoulder.

“Abyss with that,” Will muttered, bringing one of his Greater Healing Potions out of Phantom Hand and knocking it back.

Sourdough

120 Charge remaining.

The consumeable turned into a small starter nodule in Will’s hand as he drank it, saving a bit over half for later.

A moment later an itchy warmth spread through his entire body, and Will heaved a sigh of relief as the wound stopped throbbing and the lightheadedness eased up drastically. He was still a little lightheaded, but he was no longer forgetting who and where he was.

“You had healing potions the whole time?” Bakton asked.

“Yeah.”

“You specifically said you didn’t have any on you.” Bakton said with narrowed eyes.

“I was in shock and I thought…I guess I’m a paranoid tightwad when I’m in shock.” Will said before Bakton slipped Will off his shoulder, causing him to stumble and trip on an upraised cobblestone.

“How did you say you didn’t have any?” Baktons asked.

“Because they’re not on me.” Will muttered, making Phantom Hand’s armor visible and waving with it.

As Will stumbled forward, Aspect caused the ground to flow around Will’s awkward stumble and kept him on his feet.

“You don’t even know how good that passive is for a melee combatant. Footing is literally and figuratively the foundation of a fighter’s power.” Bakton said as he watched Will’s feed, shaking his head.

“No, I got an idea how good it is. Kicked your ass.” Will said, posturing.

“Obviously you believe that. You got one good hit in in exchange for being nearly disemboweled,” Bakton said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t even an even trade, let alone an ‘ass-kicking’.”

Will’s attention was drawn up to a sign with a bowl of noodles.

“Dude, dude!” Will said, slapping Bakton’s shoulder before pointing up, the sign radiating a faint golden light in his swimming vision.

“Nooodles…” Will breathed. He hadn’t eaten all day. Or maybe he hadn’t eaten in hours, but in any case, noodles sounded amazing.

“Come on, let’s get you home, Anna’ll make some noodles for you.” Bakton said, grabbing Will’s shoulder with an iron grip and steering him reluctantly away from the sign.

In a matter of minutes, Will spotted the warm light of the caravan and smelled that night’s fresh stew.

The shouting, however, was unusual.

Will heard the patter of sprinting feet heading their direction moments before Ria came into view.

“There you are! You have to come, there’s an emergency!” Ria said.

“He’s not really at his best right now.” Bakton said, drawing Ria’s attention to him. Her gaze lingered on the Lord’s new scar before flickering down to the bloody rag cinched tight around Will’s stomach. “Blood loss.”

“I’ll get you to Charnesa,” she said, budding a copy off, the two of them picking Will up and trotting towards the caravan.

“I’m healed already, just woozy. What-what’s the problem?” Will said, slapping his cheeks and prying his eyes open through force of Will.

Hah. Force of Will. I have to use that joke sometime.

“-And she wasn’t there when we did headcount!”

“…sorry, can you repeat that and maybe get me something to eat? What’s good for blood loss?” Will asked Bakton who sprinted along beside them.

“Meat, eggs and liver.”

“That.”

“The Civilians went out for leveling today. There was no obvious fight or anything, but when the group with Eolande in it did a headcount, the seamstress was missing!” Ria said, sprinting Will through a caravan that was swarming with anger like a kicked beehive.

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Those words and the furious activity words kicked Will’s adrenal heart into overdrive and the world came back into sharp focus as Ria skidded to a halt and plopped him down on one of the sitting stumps next to eh cookfire.

Charnesa was waiting there with a plate of half-eaten venison and a fork.

“Open up,” the withered saintess commanded before stuffing Will’s mouth with someone else’s dinner.

“Swallow.”

Will swallowed.

“Try to ride out the rush.” She commanded, placing a hand on his chest.

“The wha-

SNAP!

It felt like a bolt of lightning travelled through Will’s entire body, fixing everything balancing everything, until he felt perfect.

The venison in his stomach seemingly vanished as he was suddenly hit with a wave of hunger and euphoria all at once. He wanted to dance, he wanted to gorge himself. He wanted to chase something down and…

Will realized he’d stood up, his skin flushed, breathing manic, pants tight and pulse pounding in his ears. He definitely had more blood in his system than just a moment ago.

He took a deep controlled breath and sat back down as his Party assembled around him.

“Run me through what happened.” Will said, controlling himself as best he could. Every part of him wanted to shout and start running somewhere, but until he knew where, he needed to stay put.

“The civilians were out in the grinding area, and Eolande missed headcount.”

Eolande. Fiancee of Kearney, Daughter of Duncan and Brenna.

“Which group was she in?” Will asked.

As it turned out, Eolande had been in a rather protected space. Since Sammohan had been dealt with, the grinding areas had returned to their normal empty state, and Will’s caravan had claimed a nice patch of land close to the city, claiming eight or so spots and populating the outward facing ones with higher-level climbers while keeping the ones with the civilians inside that perimeter. Protected and close to the city wall.

Eolande had indeed been in one of the inner-facing ones, until she disappeared, implying that something had gotten past their guard…OR, someone or something had planted some subtle control in her mind to create an opening that would allow it to take her.

Will’s mind turned inward. The possibilities weren’t pleasant. There were only two scenarios where she was still alive, and Will didn’t think Sammohan would cross him like that so soon, and in such an inflammatory way.

But he had to be sure.

“Ria, round up every member of Sammohan’s gang.”