SSD 5.09 - Those That Desire No Worship

Your regularly scheduled chapter is once again here. Decently sized chapter, at 3100 words and change. Also decided that the coins really ought to have names, so implemented that here, and will be writing that into the edits, as well.

Enjoy!

“Servants that fear the Master offer no resistance, but also volunteer no assistance. Those that love the Master may speak out of turn, but turn a Master from disaster. with their tongue.”

-Aopi Proverb

==Caden==

Masteoa was, understandably, slightly stunned.

And afraid.

I could feel it, the trembling, the return of the staccato beats, even as he cast his eyes downward.

“Y-yes, Lord Caden,” he stammered, “whatever you would wish of me.”

Not what I wanted, at all.

“Masteoa,” I said gently, causing his gaze to snap back up to me. “I truly do mean, that you have the option to refuse. I will take no offense. And I do not expect an answer when you don’t even know what the job will be…” I thought for a moment. “You said you would normally need to bribe someone to give you a greater opportunity, yes?”

Masteoa stood up a little straighter, but still had an attitude that reeked of an abused dog wary for the next strike, even as it wagged its tail.

“Yes, Lord Caden.”

A reprimand for using my title, no matter how gentle, would only be a step backward here.

“Okay, how much would that have cost, do you know? And would there have been more brides later, to advance again?”

He nodded.

“Yes, the last few paid fifteen dimids. If I wanted to be able to advance as far as they would allow… I would need another thirty.”

Dimids? Ah. Weird to have new vocabulary feel like I already knew it.

Apparently all the coin types also had names: the iron bit, copper arc, silver dimid, gold whelm, and dungeon gold rupt. Apparently, except for the dungeon gold, each of them also had lesser forms I hadn’t seen: tetra- and semi-, which were worth a quarter or half of the normal value, respectively. Silvers had an additional type, a deca-dimid, worth a tenth. I even had all the patterns already, which came up when thought about it.

Honestly, not surprising they have names, though the adventurers mostly just call them by their material. One of my shards, or a few, really, needs to sort through all the things that have been sacrificed.

“Okay,” I said. “You have been helpful, answered questions, and I’ve enjoyed talking with you. So I am going to give you something.”

I held out a gold and a tetra-gold, worth 50 silver dimids in total, both of which had been fabricated inside my pocket a moment earlier. The new coin was the same size as the other, but was gold at the center was surrounded by a thick band of silver; they flickered as they moved back and forth between light and shadow.

Masteoa looked at them with both longing and fear, and Brosta, who had been carefully staying silent, had fixed her eyes on the coins as well, before tearing them away to look at me. I winked at her with a smile.

Not that much money, to an adventurer, even if I have been a bit too generous with the rewards, but enough to change a life.

One of the other shards was dealing with that, using the metrics Zidaun had provided. I would still be a little more generous than the average dungeon, but I would fall within the normal range. Destabilizing any local economies would win me no favors.

“It’s okay,” I said, and he looked back up at me, tearing his gaze away from the glittering coins. “There is no trick, no price. Even if you decide to refuse my offer, this is yours. If you would rather advance to become a true stable master, then this will open that path. I want your dreams to be realized. If what I offer is a better match, then choose that, if it isn’t then follow your original dream.”

I reached forward, took one of his hands, and lifted it up, then placed the coins in it with my other hand. I closed my hand, gently, to close his own hand around the coins; the small disks of metal were light, but his hand sagged into mine like they weighed more than he could hold. A single tear ran down his cheek, as he looked at me.

“Why?” he asked, his face earnest. “Why me? This… this would have taken so long. I’ve been saving, but there was always some need…”

At least partially because you think you don’t deserve it. It costs me nothing to change your life.

“You think you don’t deserve the chance?” I asked.

“I-,” he hesitated, “I’m not sure what to say, Lord Caden. I work hard, but I’ve seen others do the same. I’ve seen people who needed this more than me. I’m not smartest or the strongest. I hurt my shoulder, few years back, have had to be careful with it. Couldn’t let them know I was hurt like that…” He rubbed his left shoulder with his right hand, the coins still in his other one. “I wouldn’t want you to take me on, expect me to be able to do everything, and then fail you.”

“Yes, I understand,” I said gently, offering another smile, and he managed to look both relieved and disappointed.

“I’ll give th-,” Masteoa started to say, as he lifted the hand with the coins, but he stopped at my own upraised hand.

“Those are yours, no matter what,” I said, trying my best to be both firm and gentle. “And as for the shoulder… that is not a problem, as long as you don’t mind me healing you.”

Welcome to your new job, we have an amazing health care plan here, offering free cures for anything less than death.

“Heal, me, but,” he said, trailing off. “No, no, I don’t, of course you can.” He stopped and took a breath. “Yes, please, Lord Caden. I would like that very much.”

I pulled an overstuffed leather chair out of storage, placing it on the ground between us. I looked over at Brosta and pulled out a second one next to her, which she marveled at, running her hands over the leather.

Behold my revolutionary technology, the Lazy-boy.

“Sit.”

“Yes s-, Lord Caden,” he said, and he promptly sat down. Brosta did the same for her own chair, though moved more sedately.

If he takes the job I’m going to just have him call me Caden, or sir, if that’s too familiar for him to manage.

I looked briefly at his faint trembling, and withheld a sigh.

Definitely going to be sir, isn’t it?

“I’m may be cutting some [nerves] as I do this,” I said, before stopping. Either no word for nerves, or something specialized that didn’t show up in my language download.

“Nerves?” he said, looking slightly puzzled.

“Yes, uh, that’s a word from another language, not sure what it is in your own. They are pathways that send signals around your body, biggest group of them, other than the brain, is in your spine, which is why damaging it can make you unable to move or feel pain in places.”

“A-and you are going to be cutting some?” he said.

“Only temporarily, and only if there is pain, I will fully heal them at the end. I’m still going to be repairing things in other places, like the scars on your face, as well. I can leave the appearance of the scars, the tissue on the surface, if you like, but I will heal anything deeper than the skin, either way.”

“I, I thought you were healing the shoulder…?”

“If I am going to do something, I am going to do it right,” I said, flashing a grin. “I’m healing everything. Now about the scars?”

“I’ve grown used to them, Lord Caden. Leave them, please?”

“Of course,” I nodded. “Let me know if you feel any pain, at all, and I will sever the nerves. You won’t be able to move anywhere I do that, but I will fix that, okay?”

He nodded his head shakily.

“Okay, I’m starting. Going to work my way up, starting with the legs.”

Whereas before I had simply done a passive scan with my senses, invasive as that still was, now I focused, concentrating on his body to get a truly comprehensive look. Benevolence meant my sight was unclouded, the individual threads of muscle, the porous spaces of bone, the tendons and ligaments all as plain to me as the striations in the rock beneath. I started with the right foot.

Fungus and parasites had invaded the soles of the foot, which I removed, though it required a decent chunk of mana to remove the parasites, since my intentions for them were not particularly benevolent. The fungus seemed to be essentially treated as a plant, requiring no additional effort. I did the same for his left foot, while also removing all traces of both from inside his boots as well. A quick sample of tissue was enough to start replacing the tiny injuries left behind in the flesh.

No point letting him just get infected again.

The bones of his feet were littered with old healed microfractures, the lines of thicker bone telling the story of repeated heavy stress. A few were not completely healed, so I sampled the bone, then healed grew in additional bone in the same way, leaving thicker lines that would add greater support to the overall structure.

Inflammation around the arches and heels was paired with wear on the cartilage and ligaments. Reather than completely remove any section, I absorbed a tiny section at a time, and then replaced it, making for an easy but slightly tedious process. I also healed small blisters, just starting to form, though I left the calluses alone.

He groaned slightly.

“Pain?” I asked.

Did the increased strength of the ligaments pull something else out of place?

“Uh, n-no,” he said, flushing slightly, “the opposite, really. The pain in my feet went away.”

Oh, right, makes sense.

I smiled.

“Good, that is the point, after all.”

I continued working my way upwards, undoing the evidence of a life hard lived. I had to stop briefly, when pain flared up as I repaired some muscle tissue, and I cut the nerves, leaving him temporarily a quadriplegic. Scars remained, but the flesh beneath them was repaired, leaving only a small reminder on the skin that there had ever been an injury. I replaced each organ in sequence, until they all matched the idealized pattern. Several grew slightly, repairing years of improper nutrition, while others shrank as inflammation subsided. Additional parasites, and all of their eggs, were removed from his digestive tract.

His shoulder was a mass of scar tissue, layered on top of itself as it had healed and then torn again as the stresses had continued, months of healing and activity fighting against one another until the entire thing was practically scar tissue.

How is he still moving this?

I thought briefly to my own skills.

Pain Resistance is probably a common skill for the laborers.

I wanted to shake my head, though I was careful not to, mindful that my patient was watching me. That kind of skill wouldn’t actually fix anything, just make it harder to feel the pain. Might make it worse, really, since people would push themselves further.

Probably has other skills too, might make it actually easier to do the labor, rather than just ameliorating the pain.

The scar tissue, the inflammation, the torn muscles and ligaments, the damaged cartilage, all of them were removed, which left a large gap under the skin, causing the entire area to sink in for a moment. And then it reinflated like a flat tire coming back to full, the skin becoming taut over muscles and a fully working shoulder joint.

After I finished everything below the neck, I reconnected the nerves, which made him gasp briefly, though he didn’t say anything. I repaired the tissue under the skin of his face, still leaving the scars in place.

“How is everything feeling, Masteoa? What does your status say your health is at?” I asked.

“N-ninety seven parts in a hundred, Lord Caden,” he said. “How can I ever repay y-”

Brosta had gasped at hearing the number, but she didn’t say anything, and Masteoa cut off his speech; I realized why a moment later, I was frowning.

“Sorry, sorry, the frown wasn’t about you,” I said quickly, “or rather, not about anything you said. I’m just uncertain why it is only at ninety seven percent.”

I took Brosta’s gasped “Only?” with a small bit of amusement.

I looked at most things, but didn’t really look at the brain, something there?

I looked, but there was no cancer, no obvious malformations.

Only thing I haven’t really looked at is the blood vessels, not unless an area was obviously bruised or inflamed.

I took a closer look, and there it was. There were small spots around the body where the walls of blood vessels were thinner, and the vessels bulged slightly more, than they ought to be, but the most important, to me, were a few sections like that in the brain.

He is at risk for an aneurysm, eventually.

I already had all the samples of his body I could ever need, but dissolving and then replacing sections of blood vessel would not work in the brain. Still, I wasn’t going to practice there, either. Instead, I took the healthy pattern and held it in my mind, laying it over top of the existing and flawed pattern of a small blood vessel in his upper right thigh. Then, I pushed, attempting not to remove and regrow the damage, but rather to change the actual damaged section directly into healthy tissue.

Come on, come on…

Pressure built and mana drained away, automatically refilling as stores of mana stones were converted back into mana. I pushed but it was refusing to give way, the effort making the area waver in my vision slightly.

‘What are doing that is so mana intensive? Oh, I see… Let me help.’

A second will joined my own, pushing down against reality, the mana consumption became titanic, and suddenly the proper pattern snapped into place, and the tissue healed.

A faint notification started blinking for attention.

‘Oh, that is quite nice. I’m sure you will get lots of use out of it.”

New skill? Probably. I’ll check in a second.

I found another thin vessel, laying the proper pattern over the wall, and then pushed again. There was no resistance, and no need to push at all. It had become just like my other powers, a simple application of will and there was only an unblemished vein.

A quick application of my new capacity swiftly repaired all the other thin spots.

“One hundred,” Masteoa said, almost reverently. Brosta didn’t look much better, worship in her eyes as she looked at me, like she had seen a miracle.

Okay, my bad. Probably should have done this with only me and him around. If you don’t want people to worship you, you don’t go around doing miracles.

Still…

Even if Masteoa decided not to take my offer, I was glad I had healed him. The grateful awe might be slightly uncomfortable, but whatever skill I had earned should be more than worth it.

Guessing I shouldn’t mention that free, and truely comprehensive, healthcare is just part of being my employee.

I looked at Brosta again.

Ugh, going to need to offer to do the same thing for her, or I’ll feel like an ass. I can practically feel my father staring at me from another universe.

I know dad, I know. Power begets obligation. Have to be careful here, though, as losing power, or even the fear of losing power, can lead to people lashing out.

Still, something to do first.

“Any members of your family, who were healthy, just suddenly die?” I asked.

Heart attack is still possible here, but he actually had almost no buildup in the arteries. Meat would be expensive here. Hard work and a diet of vegetables…

His heart and lungs had actually been in good condition, it was just everything else that had been worn down.

“Yes…” he said slowly, “on my mothers side, lost my great grandfather that way, as well as two aunts and an an uncle, and… my little brother. The healers call it Dropping Sickness.”

Genetic condition.

I nodded. “That makes sense, I repaired some blood vessels, the tubes your blood flows through, in your brain that had thin walls. If those walls break elsewhere in the body, usualy it is fine, your body just repairs itself. You might get a bruise out of nowhere, but usually nothing worse.” As long as it isn’t around the heart, a major organ, or an artery, anyway. “If it happens in the brain though, it kills you.”

I noticed his apprehensive look.

“Nothing to worry about,” I said, “I repaired them all. It shouldn’t happen to you, or at least not for many years, if at all.”

Almost inevitably, Masteoa had fallen to his knees as he slid out of the chair.

Again, miracles, worship…

I sighed internally.

Gratitude spilled from Masteoa’s lips, and tears ran from his eyes, the tears of a man saved from an uncertain doom that had hung over him his entire life.

“I know,” I said, “I know. Come on, stand up.”

I reached out a hand, the man reflexively reaching out and his face filled with wonder again, as his previously injured shoulder had moved with no effort.

“Nothing more needs to be said,” I said. “I know you are grateful, just take it as the gift that it is.”

He just nodded.

God, I wish alcohol could actually do something to me.

I thought, for a brief moment, about the kinds of decisions I might make if I were drunk and had this much power.

Nevermind.

With a thought, I pulled up the notice that was waiting for me.

Your skills Living Creation III (Life) and Vital Comprehension IV (Life) have merged, evolving into the skill: Life Affinity IV (Life)

Life Affinity IV (Life)

Life, and living things, are a natural part of your magic and skills, and the creation, manipulation, and absorption of living things is easier. You can also directly adjust the pattern of living things, using a similar pattern.

+ 40% Discount when purchasing patterns with AP

+ 40% Less material required to gain a full pattern

+ 40% less mana required to override mana barrier when absorbing a living organism

You have gained a new title:

Life Specialist II (Life)

You have ventured deeply into paths that focus on life, gaining an affinity to this type of magic.

+450 AP (150 AP + 300 AP)

+10% Faster speed when learning life spells or skills

+10% Boost to speed of using life skills

+10% Reduction in mana cost when using life skills

Exsan was right, that is quite nice.