Chereads / Threat Level Zero: A Tale of Ascension / Chapter 322 - To Her Door

Chapter 322 - To Her Door

"Can't you just let us have this one?" Fate asked.

"While all of you are bleeding out?" snorted the Guard. "You'd think the guy with the hole in his chest would know better."

"He's right," Venden sighed, standing. "It isn't over yet. And I'm currently missing a hand, and I've got a cut the size of my fist on my waist."

"And don't forget that Samantha's unconscious," Cait said.

Fate glanced at the kitsubus. "Must be nice having a healing factor," he said with a hint of jealousy.

"Even my healing factor wouldn't let me survive that," she replied, pointing at the hole in Fate's chest. "Look at that. I think I can see out the other side! How're you even standing right now?"

"My Skill mutated," Fate shrugged. "Organs are intangible, life is death and death is life. But enough about that; we should fix ourselves up before these become serious."

"Agreed," the others said.

"And bring his sword," the Adept said. "I sensed some kind of Imprint on it. It might be poisoned. Go ahead and grab his bracers, too. We need to learn how they're using Imprints."

"His sword is Imprinted?" Cait frowned. "That explains this."

She lifted her shirt, which was covered in holes, up slightly, revealing a gash four inches long on her stomach.

"Got it from his sword," she explained. "My Blood Skill is having trouble getting rid of it."

"Oh, that's just wonderful," Venden said sarcastically as he picked up his severed hand. "A Perpetual Pain Imprint. That's great news."

"A Perpetual Pain Imprint?" Cait asked.

"It's an Imprint that makes injuries harder to fix," Venden explained sourly. "Like a serrated blade, but an enchantment. The longer you leave it, the worse it gets. Which means I'll be working with one hand until I can afford a new one."

"You can't just reattach that one?" Fate asked.

The Guard shook his head, replying to Fate. "Cutting anything off with a Perpetual Pain Imprint makes it nearly impossible to reattach, especially when it's caused by an Imprint of a higher Grade than your Stage."

"Didn't Samantha get hit with that sword too?" Fate asked.

"She did," the Guard nodded. "So why don't we shut up and get you all to a medic?"

The Journeymen did as they were told, Cait and Fait grabbing Samantha by her shoulders and legs, respectively.

Venden discarded his shield, tore a sleeve off of his robe, and wrapped it around his stump before slipping the bracers off of the deceased aesh as the Guard sheathed his sword and hoisted the demon's greatsword up.

The five Mages and three Familiars headed slowly into the city, the Adept leading the way.

Though the sounds of war still echoed through the city, and the sonic booms of the hands and the Empress in the sky and the Arch-Mage and the aesh outside the city still punctuated the crimson knight, they encountered no imps.

Hundreds of corpses both demon and human, yes, but the streets were unsettlingly devoid of life.

"The emergency relief center is most likely too busy to take care of us in a timely manner," the Adept said as they walked down the empty streets. "Any of you have someone that can take care of a Perpetual Pain wound?"

"What's the Grade of the sword?" Venden asked.

"Sapling," the Guard replied.

"I know someone, then," Venden told him. "Though she won't be happy with me for bringing this to her door."

A familiar door with a small metal charm of a thin, twisted rectangle with a round hole in the center swung open, revealing the short blue frame of Jkn-ala the fregog.

Jkn-ala was Tier III, Venden had explained, and was the best healer he knew. If anyone could help them, it was her.

"What do you want?" she asked, her blue eyes darting from one human to the next. Her gaze lingered on Cait's ears and horns before snapping to Venden as he spoke.

"Jkn-ala, we need your help," he said solemnly.

"Why should I help these strangers?" she asked. "What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time? First, it was an assassin, now it's all-out war! I swear, it's like you humans thrive on making others suffer."

"This wasn't the fault of the humans, esteemed fregog," the Guard said respectfully, but forcefully. "At least, none standing here. The aesh are back."

"The aesh…" Jkn-ala's eyes darted to the end of her alley, landing on the red arm of an imp corpse, which was just barely visible from here. "They've gotten smaller, then. Must not be eating properly."

"The imps are attacking with them," Venden explained. "Please, we need your help so we can help the city fend them off."

"You know my rates," the fregog sniffed. "My concoctions are far too expensive to give away for free."

The Guard flipped his gloved hand, a thin card appearing on his palm.

It was the same transparent, solid-light material as the Empire's coins, and had writing on it that read "Imperial Emergency Promissory Note."

"How much?" the Guard asked.

"Which ones am I fixing?" the fregog asked.

"These four," the Guard replied, pointing at Fate, Cait, Venden, and Samantha. He turned to the Familiars. "Any of you need patching up?"

The Magical Beasts shook their heads, or in Gevum's case, body.

"Then just these four."

"One hundred. Each," the fregog told him.

Fate raised a hand to pull the money out for himself, but a glare and a mental warning from Kravoss stayed his hand.

'What?' he asked his Familiar.

'Let the Guard pay for it,' Kravoss replied. 'This will be a good lesson to accept help when it's offered to you.'

'It won't hurt me to pay a hundred Lights,' Fate insisted.

'Then it also won't hurt to let the Guard, who's richer than you are, pay for you,' retorted the Dracok.

Fate begrudgingly lowered his arm, not willing to test the Dracok's resolve to rip his hand off if need be.

The Guard channeled Mana into his finger and wrote on the card, before handing it to the demon. "When this battle is over, you can take that to the Office of the Imperial Guard to redeem that promissory note for four hundred Lights."

The fregog squinted at the card, giving it a sniff before it disappeared. "All right, come in."

She ushered the humans and Familiars inside, directing the four injured parties to sit down on individual, low-to-the-ground tables that manifested with a snap of her fingers.

After Cait and Fate gently laid Samantha down on one of these tables, they sat down on tables of their own.

"Show me what I'm dealing with," Jkn-ala said, starting with Venden.