《Cutting Edge - A Progression LitRPG》Chapter 54 – Belly Ache

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Kent opened his eyes. He tried to perceive his surroundings, to get the best impression of what was going on around him, and was surprised when he managed to do so without passing out again.

Something wasn’t quite right. His mind felt muddled, and his thoughts weren’t clear. Something inside him was not as it should be. As it had been. He managed to hold on for a bit as pressure almost forced him back asleep. Trying to gather himself seemed to work for a moment, then just as suddenly, the automated impressions of metal around him intruded on his mind.

He passed out again.

***

Kent woke up distraught. Not only because he had memories of going through the process several times already, but because he experienced a complete sensory overload as he awoke and immediately knew the culprit. Metallic Presence hadn’t worked according to its description. He hadn’t been able to stop the skill from activating as he had been asleep. At least not really. The information the skill provided persisted for thirteen seconds in his mind, backload for the time he’d passed out he assumed.

His current condition proved once again that allocating a point in that stat paid off more than he could have ever expected and in entirely different ways.

He considered his condition, and while vision was basically not possible through the steam surrounding him, he could tell that he felt a lot better. Given that he decided to figure out what was up with Metallic Presence.

With a thought, he brought up the corresponding skill card.

Metallic Presence (16/20) (652/800 Exp.)

· Gain regular impressions of metal in your environment. Gain semi-conscious control over passive activation.

· Resolution: 0.01831563888873418m

· Frequency: IRREGULAR

· Max Stored Casts: 16

· Range: 100 m

· Cost: 10 mp/sec

Nothing new. Metallic Presence can only be suppressed with a modicum of consciousness. So what? Does that mean my Avowal of the Tranquil Pond was overwhelmed? But by what? A skill, potion, or trait? I guess it’s good to see its limitations in regard to other people and external factors. I should ask the healer.

All he could guess at what had happened was that he was brought into contact with something akin to turrl saliva, just stronger.

Kent had just closed the skill panel when he realized something that hadn’t been as it was supposed to be. The frequency indicator had changed the corresponding value. What had been at roughly 200/day back in the forest before was something else now.

He checked and regular activations were still possible, and he felt like he would be able to suppress upcoming activations without issues.

This is bad. He had never heard of skill-altering effects before – which didn’t mean much. He’s been out of consciousness for who knew how long. Without a glance, he could tell that his resources regenerated, and with no external stimuli telling the time was almost an impossibility.

Is it possible to alter someone’s skills?

Right now, he was alone in a steamy, hot room. The walls were mud-caked – or maybe even completely made from mud when one considered his likely location. It resembled what he expected the interiors of the buildings in the earthen neighborhood to look like, with one exception. The humidity made it distinctively different.

Apprehensive about his next moves he took stock of his situation. His stomach felt odd, and he saw a reddened area and something that looked like scar tissue in the form of a line about his pinky’s length. His hip moved fine and didn’t hurt anymore. Something about the movement still felt odd, the trauma he guessed.

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There hadn’t been a scar before and Kent hadn’t heard of any healing skills that required opening a stomach.

He told himself he wouldn’t jump to conclusions, but his heart rate was already considerably picking up.

First, just to affirm himself, he checked his status and found – to his relief – that his overall situation had really drastically improved. His health was completely healed up. Putting him firmly into a prime condition, if he had been healed for good, and this wasn’t some sort of spoof. His breathing accelerated.

This is fine. I’ve been healed. Nobody found out I’m traitless. I would be dead otherwise. Unless they want to know how I can use my skills.

Shit.

Kent desperately tried to suppress the escalating thoughts. He moved back to his status, trying to glean more information.

His stamina was a pleasant surprise. It had also completely regenerated something that usually took quite a while.

But with an injury, it was difficult to judge how much time had passed just based on stat regeneration alone. Thankfully Kent remembered another tool at his disposal.

Quest Alert (Two Eyes for an Eye):

You have been cheated out of the real worth of your possessions. There can only be one consequence of theft. Revenge.

Allotted Time: Five and a half days

Static Reward: Level Progress

Variable Failure: Experience Penalty for the next three months

Complete Failure: Loss of System Concealment

The timeframe given to him had barely budged. So at most half a day had passed. A relief. He would soon be able to return to his previous schedule and make sure that he had as many tools as possible at his disposal for when he would get his ‘revenge’ or more likely the mana crystal he had seen being carried.

That still left him with a few uncertainties about his actual medical situation and expecting too much or too little could have drastic consequences. Talking with the healer would have to be a priority.

Then another thought wormed its way into Kent’s brain. If changing Metallic Presence had somehow been in the purview of someone who’d worked on him, what prevented them from changing his quest as well? That one the one hand could be a god sent, or really screw with Kent.

There were many questions and not enough answers to tell Kent anything.

He tested his mobility until he was reasonably sure that he wasn’t suffering from pain in any of the positions he could twist himself into. Kent felt more relieved than he thought he would upon testing his limits. Maybe he had underestimated the effects his injury had on his psyche. Only time would tell.

He looked through the steam to see if he could find any of his belongings there. He couldn’t. The steam was thick, but not as much as to show that the room was entirely bare without any furniture besides his earthen sick bed. That was when his worries became actual fears.

He couldn’t detect his knives, only his clothes were folded neatly at the side. And there was no reason to disarm him. It just wasn’t done.

His mind came to one conclusion immediately. They had finally found him out. Kent took stock of the tools and methods available to him. There was only really one immediately.

With a mana pool filled to the brim, he had a bit of time under the effects of the cloak. Using it he might be able to get out of here. He summoned it from the space it took upside his soul and felt immediately safer.

Metallic Presence would tell him where his attuned daggers and harness were. He briefly considered that they might be able to detect the spell usage – but if that was the case it was already too late. And if they had been able to do more, such as obfuscate the spell output, he was almost done for anyway.

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The according spell blazed to light. Kent located the daggers roughly ten strides above him. But they weren’t the only metal objects nearby. He found a pair of tweezers, and a scissor in the room – right below his platform. And something like a soup ladle right outside the door. Meager findings but plenty for now. If it were to come to conflict, he would be able to deal some amount of damage to defend himself. And a healer wouldn’t have very strong offensive tools anyway – he deeply hoped that that was all he would find here.

Armed with now attuned metal he cast the Night’s Embrace of his cloak. Instead of his movements becoming easier, almost ethereal as they usually did, he had to struggle as he moved through the steam obfuscating his vision, constantly pushing against a wind blowing against him. Thus far there had always been a slight haze in the distance when he used the cloak but this time it was different. Instead, there was almost a wall of fog overlayed on the steam. Obstructing his vision through the magical world of the night.

His initial worry subsided quickly. He wasn’t able to tell what exactly the substance was, but it merely hindered his movements and sight a bit, not prevent it entirely.

He dropped the effect for now. Coming through the door he pulled it open as softly as he could. Then grabbed the ladle that hung right next to the door.

With a reduced pace he hurried through the building, looking for stairs. Mentally always ready to start up the Night’s Embrace.

Breathing the soft and pleasantly smelling steam Kent was almost willing to calm down. But that very emotion and thought made him double down on his resolve. He quietly crept through the entire hallway once, not finding any stairways leading further up. There were six doors though, one distinctly looking like the door leading to the outside, the remainder all identical.

Kent judged the risk of entering any of the rooms too dangerous. He might have considered entering if it weren’t for the interactions between the steam and movement within the cloak. The chances of finding someone that could be a threat or attack him even under his cloak’s ability were too large.

He still hadn’t figured out how the ability really worked and now was not the time to further experiment.

Luckily, he had already identified the front door. Kent hoped that he might be able to get to his knives through a window on the outside – though he couldn’t even remember if the place had any. And if not, he might be able to get his other seventy-odd daggers from Estes' house.

He considered activating the cloak’s ability and decided on it after considering a few other options. If there hadn’t been any guards inside here, they might be stationed outside. Though he secretly hoped that they had planned for him to be sedated for longer.

He pushed forwards through the thick steam, attuned the lock in the door to his spells, and pushed it open with Accelerate Metal, not bothering to check if it might be unlocked.

The hinges were damaged, and the door hanging at an odd angle, but he barely cared as he crawled and climbed up the exterior of the slanted building.

***

Listrian felt uneasy. They couldn’t quite put their finger on what was disturbing them. The sensation was clear, his mana-suffused steam was losing the mana aspect, heavily localized and not constantly.

As they paid more attention to the phenomenon the front door opened, allowing even more steam to escape. But no one entered. Neither did anyone leave. They would have been able to discern footsteps on the floor and movement through the steam but neither sense was triggered.

A shiver ran through Listrian’s body as tension rose. Either someone was playing a harmless prank, or someone was targeting them. The second option wasn’t unlikely. They, like most healers and doctors had been warned of potential attacks in preparation for the war on Issar. Taking out healers was a frowned upon but effective tactic.

Listrian spent most of their available mana and health immediately on their trait. Suffusing the entire kitchen area with even denser fog. This might even knock out someone at the third evolution if they had a poor stat counter to his trait.

There still wasn’t anything happening. They extended their control into the volcanic rock all across the room and forced it into a person thick shield around their body.

Having looked after their immediate survival they crushed the notification emblem that had been handed to them in case of an emergency.

***

Kent found his three good daggers moments after he stepped on a sort of balcony on top of the hovel. He retrieved the daggers located in a wooden chest without lock, in a hurry, and made his way down the building as fast as he could.

When he had rushed several streets over his adrenaline levels dropped and he could think with reason again.

There had been one glaring issue with his reasoning. There were no guards whatsoever.

Maybe I’ve overreacted. But why did the doctor take my weapons? Sneaking through a building and blasting the hinges off doors was certainly not something that one would appreciate. Then again, disarming someone that passed out while fighting might bring even more extreme reactions with it.

The more Kent thought on the matter the worse he felt about his acting. Maybe he had even scared the poor healer by blasting apart the doors. Or caused significant financial harm by destroying the door… Or a plethora of other issues.

Kent’s thoughts spiraled until he realized that he wasn’t getting anywhere and was still just a couple of streets away from the building that had housed him minutes ago.

He could go back and apologize. But that would only draw more attention to him. He could just try to disappear and not mention the incident ever again. But what if his original assumptions had been correct, what if the guard had simply been out? He’d go home and consider in peace.

Just as he started walking, he stopped. Looking around and not spotting anyone he sat down on the pebbled and considered his next steps more in depth.

Estes had accompanied him to the ‘doctor’ so it was known that he was traitless, he would know about that as well. That basically meant that all his contacts in the city were compromised.

Good riddance Estes. The thought of no longer interacting with the off-putting man was the as the moon on a dark night.

With a heavy sigh, Kent pushed on the pebbles he was sitting on. The soft clattering accompanied Kent as he left the side alley.

He had a lot of stuff left to do if he wanted to finish his quest by tomorrow because he was certain that he wouldn’t want to stay another night.

And then, he’d leave this forsaken town, and grow strong enough that the system could just screw off.

And maybe, just maybe he’d find a nice place to settle down in after that was done. Looking back at his last few weeks he vowed himself one last thing. If he ever got strong enough to do something about situations like his, he would.

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