Book 1 Chapter 20 The Automatic Battle System Engages
…
Han Rowan was having what he politely referred to internally as an "Existential-Panic-Induced-Sweaty-Shirt-Moment."
It was a moment brought on by the sudden, overwhelming realization that he was about to become the biological equivalent of a very large snake's pre-dinner toothpick. The sheer scale of the creature before him made the concept of a 'fight' seem deeply impertinent.
The Rock Viper—a Demonic Beast, apparently—was a majestic, terrifying specimen of reptilian wrongness. Its head alone was larger than the ox-cart he'd seen rolling into Slow Turtle Town yesterday, a mountainous, scaly battering ram positioned ten feet from his face. Those yellow eyes, the size of dinner plates, looked down at him with an expression that conveyed a mixture of pain, deep, existential annoyance, and the predatory certainty that Rowan was soft-shell dinner.
When he saw it from afar, it was not this big. But now that he was facing it, Rowan could not help but shiver. Its glowing eyes could make him faint at an instant. However, there is a silver lining in this situation.
The Rock Viper was wounded—Poisoned and Severely Wounded, according to the little text readout only he could see, like a morbidly helpful subtitle for his impending death—but even with its HP at 10/50, it radiated enough raw, malevolent power to liquefy his internal organs. Rowan, a mere Level 2 mortal whose total life experience a few months ago involved stressing over organic chemistry and his college entrance exam scores, could only stand there, a small, trembling testament to human frailty.
"Oh, that is… that's significantly larger than a carriage," he whispered, a sound muffled by the damp, mossy air of the cave. "And I don't think my Wooden sword is designed for 'carriage-sized' targets. More like 'slightly aggressive badger-sized.'"
As the viper's massive head began to lower, a motion that somehow managed to be both slow and impossibly swift, Rowan's bladder staged a small, panicked revolt. His mind was screaming for his legs to execute a masterful, award-winning sprint, but his body had chosen the 'statue of terrified inaction' option.
But just as the shadows of the beast's massive jaws eclipsed him, a familiar, sterile ding cut through the air, snapping Rowan out of his stupor.
…
The moment of mortal dread was hijacked by the clinical efficiency of his strange sackcloth bag's built-in defense mechanism.
"Oh, for the love of—now?!" Rowan yelped, trying to duck backward.
A flood of holographic data overlayed his vision, making the world look less like a prehistoric danger zone and more like a poorly designed MMORPG interface.
Hostile Entities Detected. Engaging Automatic Battle System.
[Han Rowan (Level 2). HP: 3/3/3/3/3/3. Qi: 5: Status: Normal.]
[Opponent: Rock Viper (Demonic Beast): HP 20/50. Status: Poisoned and Severely Wounded.]
Before Rowan could process the information, the air beside him shimmered. Two ghostly forms materialized from the Travel bag slots: the unassuming Wooden sword and the slightly more menacing Stone knife. They weren't held by an invisible warrior; they simply floated there, humming slightly with an unsettling mechanical purpose.
The system, utterly devoid of any sense of self-preservation or proportional response, had chosen violence.
The weapons, guided by an unseen, merciless algorithm, streaked toward the Rock Viper's colossal head.
Clang!
The Stone knife, which normally dealt 2-4 damage, struck the viper's thick, armored snout.
Damage Dealt: 6 Critical Hit!
The head of the viper, being larger than a carriage, apparently qualified as an 'easy target' in the system's view, triggering the critical hit multiplier.
Thwack!
Before the viper could even register the metallic sting, the Wooden sword, dealing 1-3 damage, followed up.
Damage Dealt: 6 Critical Hit!
The Rock Viper, which had been preparing a yawn-like maneuver to swallow Rowan whole, suddenly stopped. Its huge yellow eyes blinked. The cumulative 12 points of damage had been dealt to its head area simultaneously.
The Wooden sword and Stone knife evaporated back into the Travel bag slots, starting their cooldowns (1.8s and 2.1s, respectively), having delivered a truly insulting hit-and-run attack against a creature that could obliterate the entire mountain they were currently standing on.
Rock Viper HP: 8/50.Status Change: Dazed (1s)
…
The Rock Viper was not dead, but it was confused. A mere mortal with two floating gardening implements had just hit it harder than the enemy that had poisoned it. That confusion, however, was rapidly replaced by a volcanic surge of demonic rage.
The viper's head snapped down, moving with a speed that defied its size, a pale pink blur aimed at the nearest, most offensive object: Han Rowan.
"Oh, nope, nope, nope, absolutely not!" Rowan finally found his legs. He scrambled backwards, arms flailing like an overworked windmill. He managed to dodge the main crush of the jaws, but the massive, scaly flank of the beast whipped past him.
It was less a targeted attack and more the equivalent of getting clotheslined by a freight train.
Although he had practiced the technique he got from the manuals, it all left his mind after losing his composure against a powerful beast. In his mind, he could not imagine following that stance and fighting techniques while fighting the behemoth before him. He knows that if he does, then he will die earlier in this fight. But, it seems that no matter what he tries, his life is now really in danger as he feels his body flying in the air.
The impact slammed Rowan into the cave wall, and a horrifying rip was heard.
Rowan looked down. His left arm—the one that had been holding a piece of dried jerky just moments ago—was gone. Just a bloody, ragged sleeve where his limb used to be. The Rock Viper had clipped him and, in its rage, mechanically severed the limb.
The system updated the damage with chilling indifference:
Han Rowan HP: 3/3/0/3/3/3. (Left arm severed!)
Rowan didn't feel pain yet, just a vast, cold emptiness. He stared at the gap where his arm was supposed to be, then glanced at the Rock Viper, which was already coiling for a second, decisive strike.
This is it. This is how I die. Killed by a snake that looks like it ate a bus. I'm going to miss my chance to be a pharmacist.
Then, the second system override happened.
Item: Springwater has activated. HP is below 50%.
Heal 5 HP. Removing all non-specific status effects.
A warm, gentle glow erupted from the small Springwater vial in the Sackcloth slot. It was automatic, clinical, and completely disregarded the laws of nature. A bright, green light enveloped Rowan's shoulder.
Where seconds ago there was a severed stump, there was now a perfectly reconstructed, fully functional, slightly tingly left arm. It was so fast, so complete, that it felt less like healing and more like a bizarre factory reset.
Rowan stared at his new, fully operational left arm. He flexed his fingers. It worked. It's perfect.
He was so utterly dumbfounded by the sheer, blatant absurdity of instantaneous limb regeneration that he didn't even notice the Rock Viper's jaws—now fully uncoiled—hurtling toward his head.
However, the Rock Viper suddenly froze as it felt some stinging sensation on its head and body.
The two Thorns in the Sackcloth slots had started their effect upon the attack of the Rock Viper on Rowan. It was damage of 2, which the Rock Viper suddenly felt. Although it was a minuscule damage, it was already wounded and could feel its life ebbing. Now that it felt a stinging pain which made its life ebb faster, how could it not be worried?
Suddenly, the two main weapons' cooldown ended, and they flew towards the Rock Viper, who was shocked by their appearance.
It did not expect that the weapons would be back, so without hesitation, it quickly dodged the attacks.
Snikt! Snikt!
But before it could do anything, it felt danger coming from behind. It suddenly coiled its large body, making the wooden sword and stone dagger hit its scales.
Clang! Thwack!
Damage Dealt: 8 (Stone knife) Critical Hit!
Damage Dealt: 6 (Wooden sword) Critical Hit!
Rock Viper HP: 8/36.
The Rock Viper, expecting a satisfying crunch of bone and flesh, recoiled with a sudden, ear-splitting hiss. It did not expect that it would suddenly receive 7 damage to its body.
Rock Viper Status Change: Staggered (2s)
The stagger provided a brief, golden window.
The Stone knife and Wooden sword blinked back into the void, their cooldowns once again started. They had successfully executed the "Hit-and-Run on a Giant Body" maneuver for a second time.
The Rock Viper was now officially more confused than injured. This wasn't a fight; it was an irritating swarm of self-reconstructing, weapon-launching insects. It felt like being repeatedly slapped with a holographic spatula.
The Viper knew the routine now: the tiny weapons would disappear, and then they'd come back for the final, lethal strike. It didn't know what the weapons were, but it knew they were targeting its colossal head and body.
In a maneuver of desperate self-preservation, the Rock Viper executed the "Demonic Ostrich" defense: it whipped the upper third of its body into a massive, thick coil, completely obscuring its head beneath a meter-thick wall of scaled, bony muscle.
The two floating weapons, now back from their two-second cool-down, circled the massive coil, searching fruitlessly for their critical-hit target.
…
Rowan was panting, his chest heaving, leaning against the cave wall that his freshly regenerated arm now rested against. He felt like a bystander in his own near-death experience. This is exhausting. I didn't even fight, and I need a nap.
Suddenly, the massive coil of the Rock Viper shifted slightly. A low, rumbling sound, too organized to be a simple hiss, vibrated through the stone floor. It was a sound that seemed to originate not from a beast, but from deep within a resonant, slightly disappointed human chest.
"Hold! Just… hold on a moment, little meat-thing!"
Rowan froze. The sound was clearly human language, albeit one delivered with the gravelly, echoing bass of a creature whose vocal cords had been designed for seismic rumbling.
"Did… did the snake just call me a 'little meat-thing'?" Rowan whispered, looking around to see if one of his companions was playing a truly terrible joke.
The viper's voice boomed again, its tone shifting from rage to something that sounded suspiciously like weary pragmatism.
"Yes, I spoke, you insignificant, surprisingly annoying sack of water and bone! Now, call off your accursed, pin-pricking, flying cutlery!"
Rowan stared at the immense coil. "I… I can't exactly call them off. They're automated. They're just following protocol."
"Protocol?" the snake growled. "Is your 'protocol' to annoy me to death with minor yet repeated trauma? Look, look at this situation! I'm Poisoned! I'm Severely Wounded! My life is currently sitting on the brink of my death! And you, you walk in here looking like a fresh-faced mutt, and your things start attacking me like a swarm of particularly rude gnats!"
The Rock Viper shifted a little, exposing one dinner-plate eye that fixed Rowan with a look of genuine, injured dignity.
"I suspect you are the cause of my missing artifacts, you know. But frankly, I don't care. The only thing of true value left is the Red Dragon Heart fruit. Let us not prolong this absurd, mutually humiliating battle. I am proposing a truce."
Rowan's mind, which was already operating at maximum capacity trying to process the talking, offended viper, nearly short-circuited.
"A truce?"
"Yes! A truce! Look, the fight a while ago with my foe took everything out of me. If I fight you to the death, then neither of us will benefit from it, and both of us will die. But if we die, the Red Dragon Heart fruit is left unguarded. A lesser beast will eat it, and all our efforts—my centuries of patient waiting—will be for nothing! And frankly, you cannot survive another ten seconds if I decide to just roll over you like a heavily scaled log!"