Book 1 Chapter 24 Rowan Versus A Mob
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Han Rowan stepped back into the ruined camp, the silence amplifying the sickening crunch of loose dirt and dried blood beneath his worn boots. The battle had already been fought; he'd only been cleaning up the stragglers and the ones who had chased the fleeing merchants. But the results here were... definitive.
The camp was a tapestry of violence, primarily composed of mangled corpses. Rowan, his heart still beating a steady, slightly too-fast rhythm of Level 2 mortality, surveyed the carnage with a phlegmatic sigh. He was used to the brutality now, or perhaps he was just too exhausted to care.
"This is going to require a very large pit," he muttered, adjusting the stiff, blood-stained collar of his cheap robe.
The bodies belonged to his former companions—the farmers and merchants, whose desperate, non-adventurous lives had ended abruptly here—and an even larger number of bandits. The scene verified Captain Gong's earlier assessment: the town guards, though few, had fought with a professional ferocity that belied their simple uniforms. Captain Gong himself lay slumped against a shattered supply cart, his breath ragged. Two other guards, recognizable by their distinctive leather bracers, were sprawled nearby, nursing deep, ragged wounds.
"Captain Gong," Rowan called out, his voice hoarse.
The burly man shifted, groaning. "The little shopkeep. Still standing, are you? Didn't run with the gold, eh?" Captain Gong's attempt at a gruff joke ended in a pained cough.
Rowan didn't rise to the bait. He reached into his oversized sleeve and pulled out a small, clay jar. This was his handiwork: a potent, if crudely mixed, healing salve. He had used the Springwater from his system grid as a catalyst, following the instructions in the pilfered Basic Alchemy manual. The result was a thick, slightly iridescent green paste that smelled faintly of pine needles and something dangerously artificial.
"Stay still. I have something for the wounds," Rowan said, kneeling beside the Captain.
Captain Gong raised an eyebrow, squinting at the glowing green goo. "What in the name of the heavens is that?"
Although Captain Gong knew of the healing salve, he could not help but be wary of the thing now that it looked a bit different from before. After Rowan had used it many times on others before, the color and texture of the salve seemed a bit off, but Rowan knew that the efficacy was still as potent.
"Aloe Vera and bad decisions. Hold still."
Rowan began gently applying the salve to the Captain's most severe injuries: a long gash across his forearm and a nasty-looking contusion on his ribs. The process was slow and meticulous. As the salve contacted Gong's skin, it began to fizzle quietly—not painfully, but like a soft drink being poured—and a strange, almost musical high-pitched ping sounded only in Rowan's mind.
Heal Salve (Springwater Catalyzed) applied to Captain Gong. Effect: Rapid tissue regeneration initiated. Healing Rate: 1.5 HP per hour. Side Effect: Mild, temporary feeling of existential dread.
"You're awfully quiet about what you're doing, lad," Captain Gong observed, feeling the strange, cooling sensation. "And is it just me, or does this smell like someone burned some smelly clothes?"
"It's a rare forest herb, very potent," Rowan lied smoothly, moving to the first guard, whose leg wound was concerningly deep. God, if this stuff makes them think about the futility of life for a bit, that's just a bonus.
The application ritual was repeated for the two remaining guards. Rowan worked quickly, his mind already churning through the next steps, cataloging resources, and—most importantly—recovering from the shock of the earlier skirmishes.
After finishing, Rowan stood, wiping the green residue on a piece of discarded bandit cloth. "The wounds are dressed. You must rest. Our journey is still not over."
Captain Gong nodded, already looking slightly better, though his eyes were now distant, perhaps contemplating the mild existential dread or something else. "You too, lad. We owe you. I didn't think you had it in you."
"I surprise myself sometimes," Rowan replied, looking toward the dense treeline. He knew they couldn't rest yet. The battle had been fierce, but not all of the enemy force had been accounted for. He had a sixth sense for trouble now, refined by the sheer necessity of survival. That, and a faint, almost imperceptible sound of heavy boots crunching through the underbrush to the north.
Thirteen.
Although Rowan could not see them, he could already tell the number, as ever since gaining level 2, his senses have become 2 times sharp as a normal person.
The number was startlingly clear in his mind. He couldn't be sure if it was a System intuition or just an accurate guess based on the echo of the footsteps, but the knowledge solidified instantly. A reconnaissance team, perhaps the rest of the original ambush, returning to loot the spoils and confirm the kills.
Thirteen bandits. Three injured guards. One mediocre Level 2 mortal wearing a surprisingly durable +2 Defense mysterious vest armor inside his robe and an invisible cap. But this battle would not be three versus thirteen.
Thirteen versus one.
This was not an equation that worked out well for the 'one' in most scenarios. But Rowan had the System, and the System, while baffling, treated everything like a simple math problem.
"Captain Gong," Rowan said, his voice flat. "Don't move. Don't make a sound. There are more coming. They might have finished off the escapees."
Captain Gong's eyes snapped back into focus, the existential dread forgotten. "How many?"
"Enough. Stay down."
Rowan didn't wait for a response. He didn't have time for a strategic retreat or a motivational speech. He did not have time to hide even his skills at this time. With a surprising burst of speed, considering his recent trauma, he plunged into the forest, disappearing into the shadows of the old-growth pines. He needed to meet the enemy where they wouldn't compromise the few remaining allies. He needed to lure them into a chaotic, messy fight where his System could leverage its illogical, automated efficiency.
As the first, burly bandit leader stepped into a small, sun-dappled clearing, his hand resting casually on the hilt of a rusty cleaver, the System activated, the familiar mental overlay slamming into Rowan's vision.
Hostile Entities Detected. Engaging Automatic Battle System.
Rowan suppressed a weary sigh. Let's get this over with.
The clearing immediately filled with a complex, luminous-green heads-up display. In the center, Rowan's vital statistics glowed reassuringly.
[Han Rowan (Level 2). HP: 3/3/3/3/3/3. Qi: 5.0/5.0. Status: Normal.]
Thirteen separate windows, one for each bandit, flickered into existence around the periphery. They were mostly unremarkable, low-HP cannon fodder.
[Opponent: Bandit Grunt (Mortal). HP 2/2/2/2/2/2. Status: Normal.]
[Opponent: Bandit Grunt (Mortal). HP 2/2/2/2/2/2. Status: Normal.]
(...eleven more identical windows...)
Rowan's eyes immediately darted to his Bag Grids, the floating, 9x9 manifestation of his inventory. The System's AI, which made all the combat decisions, was already calculating its optimal first move.
Stone Knife: Damage 2-4. CD 2.1s. In Travel Bag, no CD change.
Wooden Sword: Damage 1-3. CD 1.8s. In Travel Bag, no CD change.
Thorns (Pouch): Damage +1 to attacker. Pouch effect: 10% less cooldown (N/A for passive, but the System AI loved the Pouch).
Thorns (Sackcloth): Generates 1 Thorns after battle.
Springwater (Sackcloth): Automatic use when HP is below 50%. Heal 5HP & removes fire effect.
The bandits, startled by the sudden appearance of the strange, weary youth, paused for only a split second before drawing their weapons. Thirteen against one was an open invitation to brutality.
"Get him!" the leader roared, lunging forward with his cleaver.
The System, however, moved first.
Initiating Attack Sequence. Prioritizing High-Frequency Strikes (Wooden Sword) on the Closest Target (Bandit 1), followed by High-Damage Strike (Stone Knife) on the Second Target (Bandit 2).
Rowan didn't consciously draw his weapons. Instead, a phantom version of the Wooden Sword—a ghostly, well-oiled piece of wood—materialized in the air, zipped forward like a startled bee, and delivered a solid, if low-damage, thwack to Bandit 1's left shin.
Wooden Sword (1.8s CD) activated on Bandit Grunt 1 (Left Leg). Damage: 1. Remaining HP: 2/2/2/2/1/2. Status: Crippled (Left Leg).
Cooldown initiated: 1.8s.
Bandit 1 shrieked, clutching his now-crippled leg, which immediately buckled beneath him. He was out of the primary fight.
Before the sound of the shriek even registered, the Stone Knife was already on the move. It materialized, not at Bandit 2, but above the head of the third bandit, who was currently yelling motivational curses at his paralyzed teammate. The knife descended like a tiny, granite guillotine.
Stone Knife (2.1s CD) activated on Bandit Grunt 3 (Head). Damage: 4 (Max Roll!). Remaining HP: 0/3/3/3/3/3. Status: Dead.
Cooldown initiated: 2.1s.
The third bandit dropped soundlessly, his face hitting the forest floor with a dull thump. It was instant. Rowan didn't have to look; the System's HUD had already plastered the grim, glowing red update over the bandit's portrait.
Two seconds. Two bandits down. Eleven to go. Rowan, his body still rooted in the grass, watched this mechanical murder with a mixture of horror and clinical fascination. This was the true power of the System: it separated the decision to kill from the act of killing, turning brutal self-defense into a detached, efficient inventory management program.
The remaining bandits, momentarily stunned by the speed and the sheer impossibility of the situation, surged forward.
"What is happening? Is he a ghost?!" someone screamed.
"Ghost? You're the ghost… your whole family are ghosts. I'm a person. A living person." Rowan thought wryly, even as four bandits—Bandit 4 through 7—closed in simultaneously, hoping to overwhelm him.
Their weapons—a rusty axe, a dented club, and two short swords—all swung for the center of Rowan's body. The System's defensive matrix lit up, showing a complex, color-coded calculation of incoming damage versus his defense.
"It seems that the Martial Arts manual I was practicing has been integrated into this thing's battle system." Rowan thought as he saw the matrix.
Rowan, following the System's silent directive, simply took a slight step back and brought his forearms up defensively. Actually, he did not have to do anything at this time, as he knew that his vest armor and the cap were enough to block this attack, but he still decided to follow it for future reference.
The attacks landed.
Bandit Grunt 4 (Axe) targets Body. Damage: 1. Defense (Vest+Leather Helm): 2+5. Blocked: 7. Damage Taken: 0. Status: Normal.
Bandit Grunt 5 (Club) targets the Right Arm. Damage: 1. Defense: 0. Damage Taken: 2. Remaining HP: 3/3/3/1/3/3. Status: Crippled (Right Arm).
Wait, what? A muffled clink sound, which Rowan only vaguely perceived, was followed by a sudden, intense spike of pain in his elbow. His right arm was now officially crippled. He couldn't feel it, but the glowing yellow 1 on his HP bar was undeniable.
The comedy of the system kicked in immediately.
Thorns (Sackcloth) Passive Activated!
The System AI, triggered by the incoming damage, instantly deployed the Thorns from the Sackcloth slot. A spike-like ethereal thing comes out of Rowan's body and hits the bandit who attacked him.
Thorns activated on Bandit Grunt 4. Damage: 2. Remaining HP: 2/1/1/2/2/2. Status: Stunned.
Thorns activated on Bandit Grunt 5. Damage: 2. Remaining HP: 1/1/2/1/2/2. Status: Stunned.
The two bandits did not have time to think about what had just happened as they found themselves feeling a bit confused, and their vision darkened from being stunned. Something just stung them, and now they feel unwell; both could not help to think that the guy before them might be a giant bee.
But before the two could recover, Rowan already had his chance to make his next attack.
The Wooden Sword (CD 1.8s) finished its cooldown and immediately swung for the head of the guy who crippled its arm (Bandit 5).
Wooden Sword (1.8s CD) activated on Bandit Grunt 5 (Head). Damage: 3 (Max Roll!). Remaining HP: 0/1/2/1/2/2. Status: Dead.
Cooldown initiated: 1.8s.
The ghostly sword didn't just thwack this time; it was driven by pure, mechanical force, delivering a lethal strike. Bandit 5 crumpled.
Bandit 4 was stunned and had already fallen, which seemed to indicate that the system had deemed the guy non-lethal, so it skipped him.
The Stone Knife (CD 2.1s) followed, its target is the bandit leader, Bandit 1. Seeing the knife, the bandit leader suddenly turned around and ducked to the ground, this action quickly made the knife dive down and hit the leader's leg.
Stone Knife (2.1s CD) activated on Bandit Grunt 1. Damage: 3. Remaining HP: 2/2/2/2/1/0. Status: Crippled.
Cooldown initiated: 2.1s.
The bandit leader, already hobbled by the first strike, was instantly severed at the ankle by the invisible force of the knife. He was down.