Lone: The Wanderer [Rewrite] - Book 2: Chapter 27: Mutual Injuries and Brains Besting Brawns

Book 2: Chapter 27: Mutual Injuries and Brains Besting Brawns

“‘Ow can ye still stand?! Tell me!” Hamish demanded.

In front of him, Lone was wobbling to his feet despite being covered in blood, holes and bruises. Bones poked out of his skin and a lot of his body was twisted in strange directions. Half of his tails had been ripped clean off and he was missing his left hand – his wrist having been punched so hard the limb just separated itself from the rest of his arm.

Lone could only open one eye and he was barely able to see anything at all with it but he still forced a grin to spread across his blood-smeared lips while he studied what little of Hamish his limited vision allowed him to.

Hamish was in impeccable condition when stacked up against Lone. Hell, even a corpse would look healthy when compared to him so that wasn’t a fair comparison.

The dwarf was panting in exhaustion and while his body seemed mostly fine, upon closer inspection it wasn’t hard to see the swelling of his skin over his left femur, and his right arm was hanging lifelessly from the shoulder.

Ever since the dwarf had started applying both his Strength and his Agility, Lone had only managed to hit him twice.

The first time was a surprise roundhouse kick to an incoming fist that landed square on Hamish’s wrist, almost breaking it in two. Not really worth the payback his own wrist received, but it still put a smile on Lone’s face.

The second successful counterattack came when he was able to toss some dirt into Hamish’s eyes.

He’d then low-sweep-kicked him off his legs and successfully performed a multi-hit combo aimed at his neck intent on paralysing the man. Sadly, Hamish had dodged midair, resulting in the heavy blows impacting against his shoulder instead. As a result, his right arm became useless.

Lone spat out a massive amount of blood before replying, “I wonder why? Maybe I’m immortal? Why do you care anyway? What happened to promising not to kill me? Forgive me if I’m just ignorant, but were literally any other D-ranker in the world here in my place, they’d have died hundreds of times over.”

Hamish’s face scrunched up when a sound that was now common assailed his ears. It was grotesque and grating and it was coming from Lone’s body. Basic Regeneration was busy doing its job.

“Immortal? Hah! More like ah sentient zombie,” Hamish responded, pointedly ignoring Lone’s accusation of dishonour.

He watched in disgust as the foxkin casually lifted his broken right hand to grab his left humerus bone that was keeping that arm inert. He didn’t even flinch as he pushed the thing back into his body without a care in the world.

He could now freely move his left arm again though he held off on letting Basic Regeneration regrow the hand that was no longer attached to his body.

“‘An why in the name ah the Stone are yer bones black an’ blue? They should be white, ya freak ah nature!” the dwarf added.

“You’re getting tired, Dwarf,” Lone remarked as even more unbearable noises came out from his now-healing arm. ‘I’d have died dozens of times over by now if not for Basic Regeneration. I wonder if it’s levelled up from this one-sided fight?’

He’d been ignoring his notifications since they only got in his way mid-combat. Still, beat up and close to death’s door as he was, he’d received a lot of skill level-ups thus far from his counting.

Hamish cracked his neck and then disappeared. Lone still wasn’t used to the man’s absurd speed so he just lashed out in all directions as best as he could with his fist. It was all he was capable of doing at this point to injure the dwarf while he awaited his own next Injury.

His broken body didn’t allow nimble and dextrous movements anymore. He was almost out of SP, so he couldn’t use any of his skills either like Ungrounded.

Lone, expectedly, didn’t land a hit and was sent flying into a pile of rubble. The training area had long been vacated by most spectators and had instead turned into barely anything more than a set of ruins.

Lone coughed violently upon impact. He felt something in his spine cracking but he didn’t care. It would fix itself given a dozen seconds to half a minute, he figured.

“Ah’m tired?! Ah said it once an’ ah’ll say it twice! Ye’r ah walkin’ zombie, ya freaky cunt!” Hamish yelled in anger.

He didn’t give Lone a chance to recover this time. He truly was running out of steam. If beating Lone within an inch of his life wasn’t working, well, he’d just go back on his word and snuff out what little life the foxkin kept clinging onto.

In his mind, he’d not only already dishonoured his people by starting this fight in the first place, but now he’d suffered such humiliation as to actually almost collapse from a lowly D-ranker.

He didn’t even want to put his injuries in his mind. They might heal but the mental scars never would. A non-dwarf two ranks lower than himself had injured him, and pretty severely at that. What honour did he still have left to lose?

A person suddenly appeared in his path though as he was just about to rip Lone’s head clean from its shoulders and stared at him with an unbelievable level of disappointment and shame, forcing him to stop in his tracks.

This person was an old and very muscled female Stone Dwarf with a long set of braided hair that reached down to her ankles. She stared at Hamish for a few more seconds before she turned to Lone. “Deactivate that skill right now.”

Lone’s anger tried to get the better of him and retort. He’d just started using his Tail Spear racial skill on his few remaining tails since he felt a subtle change in the air.

As if he had an unnatural sense for danger, he truly felt his life was being threatened so he’d activated his only weapon capable of dealing with B-rankers that wouldn’t outright murder them like Mental Destruction would.

However, any words he tried to say got stuck in his throat upon meeting the gaze of the aged woman. He felt compelled to do as she had ordered, but he couldn’t. That wasn’t how the skill worked. “It remains active for five minutes after starting it. I can’t ‘deactivate’ it.”

The women looking into his eyes deeply as if searching for something before nodding lightly. “I trust this will suffice?” she asked while shifting her gaze away from both Lone and Hamish.

A furious dwarf whose own age made the woman look young entered the unrecognisable training area of the guild with a rabbitkin and over a dozen healers by his side.

He stormed up to Hamish and punched him right in the jaw. It didn’t seem to do any real damage but the look on Hamish’s face was one of absolute despair. “The only thing ye inherited from that father of yers was his overwhelmin’ly endless supply of foolishness! How many times have ah repaired yer weapons an’ armour?! How many times have ah treated ye an’ the other boys from the Black Iron Company as family?! How many times have ah bent my back backwards helping ye kids out when ah returned to the krieg?!”

He punched the silent dwarf in the face yet again. “And this is how ye repay me?! One mission goes wrong so ye try to kill my most precious an’ final apprentice?! Ye bring shame to yer family! Ye bring shame to yer fallen brothers! Ye bring shame to all dwarves! Above all else, son, ye bring shame to the very Stone itself!”

Hamish hung his head low. He had no words. Who was he to backtalk a future epitome? The very pinnacle of dwarven culture stood before him in the flesh berating him and all he could do was wait in silence and suppress his feelings.

Wilbur gave him one final punch before sighing. “Ye’ve royally pissed me off. Ah understand yer pain, son, ah do. We’ve all lost loved ones. This,” he said, gestured to the badly beaten Lone, “however, is not the way we do things! If it were up to me, Ah’d strip ye of all yer rights as a dwarf, cut ye off from the Stone an’ then exile ye topside for good measure! Be thankful that isn’t up to me.”

Hamish wanted to speak out and cry of the injustice done to him. He wanted to denounce everything Wilbur was saying but he couldn’t. What good would it do? He was full of hatred and anger but his mind wasn’t poisoned by stupidity.

More than the future epitome before him though, the woman standing over Lone scared him witless, and for good reason.

Wilbur left Hamish alone and approached Lone. He stared straight into his eyes. Their heads were almost level despite him being standing and his apprentice being seated squarely on his ass. “Ye’r a lanky bastard, boy.”

Lone didn’t seem overly amused. “You’re just short, Gramps.”

The dwarven woman raised an eyebrow upon hearing Lone so casually call someone with so much prestige ‘Gramps’. Even more startling to her though was that he didn’t seem to mind.

“Will ye live?” Wilbur asked as he eyed Lone’s incredibly damaged body. It was hard to see the full extent of his injuries thanks to all of the blood and viscera covering him from head to toe. “He really did a number on you…”

“A few numbers, really,” Lone said as he cracked his neck and glared at Hamish. “I’ll be just peachy after a few weeks of rest though.”

He felt compelled to lie. After all, would anyone here even really believe him if he said that a quarter of all of his injuries had already completely healed and all of his more serious wounds were decisively less serious now than they were mere moments ago? Probably not.

At a conservative estimate, he’d need maybe two days for Basic Regeneration to heal him entirely. If he still had access to his MP, he reckoned he could be in tip-top shape in four or five hours.

“Need any professional healing? It’ll cost you,” Rella the Pygmy Rabbitkin asked. “They say the patient knows their body best, ‘specially when they’re above I-rank. That being said, I could count the number of times I’ve seen anyone even close to as injured as you are on one hand. I’m an old rabbit so that says a lot.”

Quite a few of the healers with her were non-dwarves and they seemed eager to ensure Lone didn’t lose his life as well. How often did one meet a nine-traited beastkin?

Never. That’s how often. It was unheard of. A thing of pure legend. Getting in the good graces of such a person could only serve them well. Especially given that he’d managed to fight a B-ranker without dying for close to an hour. He’d even injured his opponent.

The dwarven healers, on the other hand, seemed less interested in Lone and more concerned for Hamish. The only thing stopping them from immediately treating such a city-wide hero was the subtle pressure they felt from the old dwarven woman in the centre of the room.

‘I wonder if healing-oriented magic is rarer to find in dwarves than other species?’ Lone thought as he shook his head. “I’ll be fine. That shameless cunt might have not held back with his application of stats, but he didn’t use any skills on me nor any weapons. I can heal this myself, and, like I said, I just need a bit of R&R really.”

Rella squinted sceptically. “If you say so. It’s not our place to force our craft on you. Now, you… You’ll be fine if you let your natural Vitality do the work for you. A month or two and you’ll be right as rain. Want us to heal you anyway? That arm looks a bit nasty.”

“No,” Hamish answered simply, keeping his reasoning for denying to himself.

Wilbur ignored his young kinsman and the healers entirely. He offered Lone a hand and the foxkin took it.

Looking at the old dwarven woman, Wilbur said, “Ye asked if this will suffice? No, it fuckin’ won’t. Some guildmaster ye are to let an adventurer get damn near beat to death by another one. Ah am fuckin’ furious. A brawl between upset kids ah could have waved off with a few slaps on the wrist, but this? There will be consequences for this.”

The guildmaster frowned. “It’s not against the rules for a higher-ranked adventurer to challenge a lower-ranked one. Lone did not have to accept the duel. Also, no matter the damage done to his body, he continued to get up. I would have stepped in the moment he fainted or if he was truly going to suffer a killing blow. I was also willing to shoulder any and all healing fees if needed.”

She wouldn’t say so out loud, but she also allowed the fight to continue because she felt it was absolutely necessary to allow Hamish to vent a bit. She only had a basic understanding of the situation but she was intimately familiar with the Black Iron Company.

Every member was headstrong and quick to upset if they felt the line in the sand known as ‘justice’ had been crossed. Even their leader Ewan was no exception to this.

All Wilbur was hearing, however, were excuses. “If he was a young dwarven lad, ah wonder if ye’d have allowed this to happen.”

He supported Lone and helped him hobble towards the exit of the training area, not waiting for a response from the guildmaster.

Hamish’s fists were clenched so hard that his nails drew blood. ”At’s it? This fox gets tae walk free just because ‘e ‘as ah connection wae ah future epitome? This is horseshite! ‘E’s why everyone ah care fae is feckin’ deed!’

His anger got the better of him and he ended up speaking through gritted teeth. “Ah’ll get vengeance fae ’em. Ah swear it on the Stone. Be thankful ah held back, Fox. Ah dinnae believe fae ah moment ‘at ye arnae at least partially responsible.”

Wilbur just about dropped Lone to give Hamish yet another left hook but he was stopped by his apprentice who was shaking his head. “You weren’t the only one who held back, Dwarf.”

Lone controlled his remaining tails to slam into the ground and the nearby pillars, instantly shredding them to dust. They could rip a Rare item to ribbons and easily injure a B-ranker so this much was nothing. “If I wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be talking right now.”

Lone slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder and he locked eyes with Hamish. “I believe in second chances. I forgive you for today. If anything, I should thank you. Every time I lose, I only grow stronger for it. If you come back for me intent on killing me, don’t hold it against me for wiping out what remains of the Black Iron Company.”

The healers, Rella, the guildmaster and Hamish all watched in silence as Lone straightened his legs and walked out of the training area with Wilbur by his side.

The guildmaster put a palm to her head and then glared at Hamish. “Why the fuck did you go and say that, eh? He’s even more in the right now.”

The B-ranker shrunk back a bit. “Sorry, Guildmaster Hilda.”

“Whatever plans you have in that skull of yours, shelf them for the foreseeable future,” the guildmaster ordered.

Hamish looked confused. “Guildmaster Hilda?”

“Why are you so stupid?” She pointed all around here at the devastating damage in the training area. “Someone has to pay to fix all of this. It won’t be a fucking D-ranker who didn’t even start this mess. You’re gonna be in the Farwinds for quite some time making enough money to fund all of the repairs.”

Rella laughed out loud as she shook her head and made to leave. “Brains are always better than brawns.”

Her peers couldn’t help but agree with her, even the dwarven ones.