《Ancient Bones: The Changed Ones book 1 (Post-Post Apocalypse LitRPG)》46. Safe Harbor
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Enemy-occupied territory – that is what this world is.
Pre-Fall writer
Bushes were becoming sparser as they moved on. And while the trees remained roughly similar, the leaf cover on them increased.
They moved across a small shallow valley, refilling their canteens at the brook running there while munching the cold lard-packed ration bars. The bird noises were more subdued within the valley but resumed as they climbed out.
Johanna had briefly debated on following a track they’d found. In the mana zone, such was made by beasts – Changed ones – rather than people. But it helped them to move a bit faster.
She pored over the map that Peter had obtained from the Kootenai garrison. It was not entirely useless, as it showed a rough outline of the mana zone and some of the valleys that ran into it.
“I asked about any good maps around Kootenai Gap,” Peter told her. “I didn’t get one that had the old, pre-Fall spots. The officer running the maps and scout division said it was almost useless anyway. Too many Changestorms ran through.”
She looked at the sky between the treetops. So far, the weather was holding.
“Let’s hope we find easy shelter. Although… well, Devereaux said there were dangerous lairs.”
“Not looking at checking caves,” Tom announced.
“Me neither,” she confirmed.
The sun was already setting down. November days were short and becoming shorter still. They’d avoided a pair of Lepuses, and another solo Lepus, but they hadn’t seen any other obvious Changed beast. They’d almost killed a deer that had come out from seemingly nowhere, running across them.
Johanna wondered if the normal-looking beast was mundane enough to be edible. If they didn’t have their bags still full of rations, she might have tried hunting and killing it. As it was, they had just enough to get to where they planned to find civilization, not too far from the Marches of the Dakota.
So far, Laura seemed fine from her berry dare. The orange bushes were still there everywhere, although sparser now. Similar black-blue leafed bushes seemed to have mostly replaced them, but those didn’t seem to have any fruit or berries.
They finally found a small clearing, and Johanna decided it was probably the best spot they were going to find before the sunset. They quickly decided to avoid keeping a fire running through the night, unwilling to notify predators. Changed beasts did not usually fear man, after all.
Tom assembled quickly a small fire, to let them eat a more satisfying meal. Johanna lighted it, and before long, the lard-and-hardtack rations dissolved in the tin's water, as smells started to come out.
“Still no problems,” Laura announced.
“Does this mean they’re edible?” Peter mused.
“Or my skill is still working.”
“That would be weird.”
“Or maybe we only think we can have four skills.”
“Speaking of which, Tom?”
“Yes, that was a bit weird. When I hit that guy, it was as if my hammer rebounded and hit again. And yes, that felt instinctual.”
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“So, a new skill. I noted you ran fast.”
“I didn’t feel fully in charge before, but this time, it’s even worse. I run, but it’s more like my legs move. And way too fast.”
“Not as fast as Laura,” Peter said.
They all looked at her, and she shrugged.
“What can I say. It’s unnatural. I knew how deep the wound went, even from here. And when I wanted to run before my ability to heal that damage stopped… I just ended up next to Tom. I almost fell over him, so sudden it was.”
“It’s helpful, although you were very exposed. Devereaux might have cut you down. Can you fix yourself?” Johanna asked.
“I’m not going to test that one, no,” Laura said, as the blood drained from her face.
“But you bounced back,” Tom said.
Laura looked thoughtful.
“I was looking at Johanna. Just like your cut, I knew she’d got one. A shallow one, not as deep as you.”
“And you… jumped to me,” Johanna concluded.
“Yes.”
Peter stood and moved slightly away from the fire.
“Try it?”
Laura stood up as well and looked at her husband. She stayed there and frowned.
“Can’t seem to do it.”
Peter pulled his hunting knife and nicked the end of a finger.
“And now?”
“That’s a small…”
She sighed.
“Still can’t do. Wait!”
Peter had moved the knife across his palm.
“And now?”
Laura was just next to him, reaching. She realized her position.
“Okay. That one does it,” she said as she slid her thumb over the cut.
“It needs to be at least somewhat significant.”
Tom looked thoughtful, and he and Johanna exchanged glances.
“Worst case, one of us can slice…”
“It’s going to take too long a time if we need to do it. And I, for one, don’t want to slice myself before we even fight,” Johanna countered.
“I wonder how far away it works?”
They tried it around the clearing, with Peter slicing himself again, and keeping his fingers on the palm to avoid bleeding. The effective range was around a dozen yards only.
“Not impossible… yet impossible. That’s clearly magic… but it’s also associated with healing.”
“I already said that healing looks like it’s some branch of magic, not some holy gift from God,” Johanna said.
“From God… or the Ancient?” Laura asked.
“I know it’s said they lived like gods, but I don’t think they were gods. There’s only one God,” Peter said.
“Well, we’re not going to solve that anytime soon.”
Johanna picked the first watch and turned to keep track of the woods until the lack of light forced her to simply listen, and trust her instincts.
She was still listening when Tom’s hand startled her, and she tucked into the double sleeping bag with Tom’s warmth still there, trying to find sleep.
The morning was not as good. The light through the forest canopy was dimmer, and Johanna could see only grey-white. The temperatures had not dropped yet, but November weather in Montana could be pretty varied. As long as they did not face a blizzard, it was doable. Tom had done his best to mend his clothing, but it was never going to be as good as before. That was probably a record in terms of duration – less than a month between brand new gear and the first major damage.
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They quickly gobbled breakfast as Peter reported. With his improved stealth, he felt he could almost walk normally without being noticed, so he’d checked quickly the path ahead.
“Only thing I noted was a Canid lair, at least I think. A kind of stone overhang. No Canid there though. Just tufts of fur.”
“So far, so good,” Johanna said.
“And here come the hunters,” he deadpanned back.
“Last time, it was you who said that first.”
“That’s why I’m not going to say it,” he replied, trying to keep his smile contained.
The first drops of water began mid-afternoon, soon after they crossed another small valley. The tree cover did very little to stop the raindrops from hitting the forest floor. Johanna knew very well they would soon be miserable. Learning to tolerate it while going to the ruins didn’t mean they liked it.
The rest of the afternoon was the same way. A steady drizzle of cold water fell on them from above. All had hoods, but the wet was slowly saturating the atmosphere, and got into clothes. But their fortune turned slightly as they came out of a denser copse of woods.
Tom pointed further. Johanna looked and spotted what had attracted his attention. Logs, stacked. She squinted and realized she was looking at the remains of some kind of log building. It had not burned or anything, but time had rotted some of the logs, and what looked like a small cabin had started to fall apart.
It looked far too intact for something built before the Fall, but she did not think anyone would have built anything in this deep mana zone. Changestorms might have moved it there… at some point.
“Might be a good spot for today. Rain is starting to become worse,” Tom said.
“The sun will set soon as well. Hopefully, it has some roof still intact,” Johanna replied.
The trail they were following didn’t lead to the cabin ruins, so they left it and headed to the building. From closer, it did look a bit better. In a manner similar to the Ancient city ruins, parts looked entirely gone while half seemed nearly untouched. There were even the remains of a door, laying on what looked like a small stair leading from the forest ground to the building.
They were almost at the building when Johanna spotted a patch of white that didn’t belong, in the middle of the darkness behind the almost-intact doorframe. She blinked, and it came out bounding.
White fur. White claws. Even white eyes, she realized as the Felid turned to face them. All-white, without the slightest hint of anything in them. She wondered briefly if the cat was blind like you’d expect from such eyes among people, but she didn’t have time to muse further.
The cat jumped at Laura, and she was saved by Tom taking a swing with his fist, not having time to draw his hammer. The cat twisted mid-jump, barely avoiding the fist, but losing its aim.
It also raked Tom’s hand with its rear paws, showing unnatural coordination.
Johanna almost fired a fireball before realizing that if she missed, she’d probably set fire to the cabin just behind, destroying their putative shelter.
The Felid turned and faced them, its head swiveling and looking at Peter. The short man suddenly remembered his hiding skill, but the albino Felid also noticed when he activated it, and instantly ran at him. Peter grabbed his sword, trying to slide it out of the scabbard they’d looted, just as the cat reached, rearing to claw him.
Johanna slammed the blowtorch that came out of her palm into the side of the Felid. The white beast yowled in pain and turned toward her. She raised her other hand, ready to send a point-blank fireball in its maw, but the beast stopped. Its eyes blinked, then the Felid slumped abruptly on the ground.
Peter flicked his katana, and the drops of blood vanished from the blade to spatter on the ground, leaving no smear on the unnatural blade.
“Easy peasy,” he commented.
“Showoff,” Laura replied.
“The aim talent works with the sword,” he noted as he sheathed back his sword.
“If you can pull it out,” his wife mocked him.
“Hey. I thought I might ruin the scabbard if I wanted to cut too early.”
Then he frowned, looking at his hands. He extended one and put the other on the pommel… and suddenly, the sword was in his other hand.
“Just realized it should work. And it does.”
“That’s bullshit,” Tom called out, and Peter shrugged in reply.
“What do we do with the giant white cat?” Laura asked.
“You’re right. It might attract some predators. Which, here, is a bit more dangerous than anywhere else. Let’s dump it further away,” Johanna said.
Johanna knelt in front of the beast. Up close, she could see a bare hint of a slit in the white of the eyes. It wasn’t blind… it just had Changed eyes.
Tom and Peter grabbed one limb each and started dragging it. Thankfully, the katana had not cut all the way in, just a foot deep. The four had crossed a small shallow ravine half a mile before. It would be a safe dumping ground away from their newfound refuge there.
Moore kept reflexively checking the mana regen during the short fight against the basic level 6 Felid. The albino puma/panther thankfully didn’t seem to have any serious skill. Just a constitution – not a System stat – and coordination worthy of an apex predator.
Given that the regeneration factor was now slightly above +40%, it probably was not one.
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