Lifestealer: Cursed Healer [A LITRPG Isekai Survival]

Symon sat in the pitch-black cave, staring into the darkness. His thread drifted lazily in the direction they'd come from, ready to both attack and alert him of anything that tried to come after them. His only possessions were his pants, his shoes, his sword, and his trusty metal pipe. It was the first weapon he'd ever gotten, and was surprisingly undamaged.

Though he couldn't see it, he knew that not a single scratch marred its bronze surface. His fingers traced along it, though he was careful not to tap on it. Entisse was still meditating, after all, and he didn't want to distract her.

On the other hand, his sword had seen better days. It needed sharpening, as well as a pass over with the usual oils and cleaning brush for maintenance, but also had plenty of little nicks on its edge. More worrying was the tiny, barely noticeable hairline crack near the base of the blade, probably from where he'd landed on it.

"You know," Symon started, directing the words to Keelgrave, "I'm not so sure these are the right weapons for me."

<I'm glad you finally see it, you've been swinging those things around like a child.>

"Oh, screw you, you know that's not what I mean."

<Yeah, but you walked into that one.>

Symon couldn't help but let out a gentle sigh. "What I mean is, they don't really fit my fighting style. It was fine back when the thread didn't even reach as far as my arm, but that time has long passed." He hadn't had the chance to open his Ledger, but he was pretty confident that both his main abilities had levelled up. It was hard to tell with Idealise, but Seize was definitely longer. "It's gotta be, what, seven metres now?"

<Yeah, something like that. Go on…> Keelgrave prompted.

"I'm seeing two or three issues, depending on how you count them. The first is the range; I have to get way too close to use my sword or club, when I could be standing further back and draining the monster from a safer distance. I'd want a spear or something similar to poke them from range, if I even wanted to use one. That's my second point; I'd get the most benefit by relying only on the thread. I'd get way more vitality if I stopped slicing every monster halfway to death and wasting it, and the pipe is only marginally better for that. But now the problem there—"

<Everything's so strong that you can't afford to be greedy and hold back,> Keelgrave finished.

"Yeah, exactly," Symon answered, slightly surprised. "You've been thinking about this?"

<What the hells do you think I do in here, kid? Thinking is all I can do.>

"Fair point. It's gotta be pretty boring in there."

<Eh, you get into enough shit to entertain me. I mean, a talking elf? A secret dungeon? Anyway, keep going. It'll be better if you put it into words yourself.>

"Heh, yeah. Anyway, I want something longer ranged, but I also want to be able to do less damage when I can get away with it. Something with a more defensive lean would be good too, like a shield. Hell, maybe even two shields. I don't want to rely on just my Constitution and healing to keep me alive. Also, there isn't exactly a bustling weapons marketplace around here, so it'll have to be something I could make myself."

<A bola or net would be good, maybe a rope dart if you had a decade to train, but you're thinking too big. Consider how your pet elf fights.>

Symon frowned, both at Keelgrave's wording and in confusion. "I'm not about to be scratching Second Steps to death," he said, flexing his hands in the darkness. When he squeezed them shut, he felt the subtle power buried in his muscles. He could probably give a devastating handshake. "Wait, you don't mean punching, do you?"

<Sure, I do. It's a good fit for you in general, and it's not like you have many options here.>

"I guess, but I'm not about to throw away a perfectly usable sword so I can start punching things. And how is punching supposed to give me more range? How is it better than a sword in any way?" Symon asked, only growing more confused.

<I don't think you need the range, your magic does that. You only need a weapon if they get close, so stop worrying about that. Or if they're far enough out of reach, but a sword won't help you there either.>

"I dunno, Keelgrave, that just seems silly to me. A sword is just way better than punching. I admit I'm a little worried about this sword snapping mid-combat, but I'd rather just switch to the club now than start throwing hands."

Keelgrave let out a ghostly tsk. <I'd say this is your Earth mindset speaking, but plenty of low Step natives think something similar, so I'll let you in on something of a secret. You're right that if someone with a level one Sword skill fought someone with a level one Unarmed skill, and everything else was equal, the sword wielder would win more often than not. But as levels grow, the fight would quickly become more balanced. The natural advantages one weapon has over another lessen once Evolutions come into play.>

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"Right… I guess it kinda makes sense," he thought. A flaming sword and a flaming fist would be more closely matched than a bare fist against clean steel. "Even still, that doesn't mean fists would be better than the club."

<Ugh, you're not getting it. I always hated having to teach shit,> Keelgrave sighed, a note of nostalgia in his voice. <I'll ask you this: what do you think would happen if you stabbed your sword into the wall?>

"It would probably snap, or at least dull a bit. Maybe score a little line in the rock in exchange?"

<Right. How, then, does the elf dig her claws into the rock without them snapping?>

Symon paused. That was… a good question. Only, the more he thought about it, the more he realised the answer was actually quite simple. "Oh, oh! It's a part of her, so it benefits from her Attributes!"

<Exactly!> Keelgrave answered, the faintest hint of something in his tone. Was that… pride? No, it couldn't be. <Every adventurer gets so excited for their first weapon, but as soon as they progress a few levels, they need a better one to get the most out of their Skill. And if they cross into the next Step, it only gets way worse. You saw how ineffective that sword was against the spider's carapace, and it probably wasn't even Constitution focused.>

"Okay, I get what you mean. It's the only weapon that would grow with me and never need replacing."

<Yes, yes, now you see. Sure, enchanted swords are cool, and I'm not saying there aren't plenty of scenarios where you'd want one, but they lack the reliability and longevity of your body. Yours especially, considering your healing.>

Symon stroked his chin contemplatively. He liked his sword, for sentimental reasons if nothing else, but not needing to rely on a tool appealed to him. Plus, it would be pretty cool to be able to punch monsters to death.

"Okay, you've convinced me," Symon said, pushing himself to his feet. His back already felt stiff from lying on the awkward slope. "We can give it a test run. It'll be good to have it as a backup, at least."

<That's the spirit. How about you throw a few practice punches and we'll work on your form,> Keelgrave suggested. He'd taught Symon the very basics during his Swords training, but that had been more in the realm of how not to break his own hand.

"Sounds good, but we're going to have to do it in the dark. I'm not heading out to the forest unless I have to."

<Fair. You could probably break off a little glowing crystal and bring that in.>

Symon wasn't sure that was a good idea. The dungeon was rife with danger, and it wouldn't surprise him if they exploded or zapped him if he touched them. They'd been avoiding them as much as they could, but it bore investigating when he had the chance.

That was the problem. Time. He had so many things he wanted to do, so many techniques he could try to increase his power, so many unexplored aspects of his magic, but he just didn't have any good opportunities. That just meant he had to make the time, forcibly if so.

"Entisse?" he asked aloud, keeping his voice soft, so as to not jump her out of her meditation.

"What is it?" she answered instantly, from a little to the left of where he'd thought she was. It was hard to keep track of her in the dark.

"Nothing bad, I was just wondering if I can make a little noise in here or if it'll distract you. Oh, and I'll go check on my Ledger in the tunnel before I start."

"Very well. The notice is appreciated," she hissed softly.

"No problem, I figure we don't want to just wander off alone with no warning." He rotated in place. "Uh, which way was the exit again?"

Symon poked his head out of the tunnel and looked around. A few dozen metres separated the rocky ground next to the wall and the true beginning of the forest, the ground between covered in a green grass. It looked completely mundane, but there was far more vitality in there than he'd been expecting. By his best estimation, he would be able to completely refill an empty vessel in around twenty minutes, purely by stealing from the plants.

It wasn't fast enough to keep him topped up in a combat situation, but was still far, far better than it could have been. Not long ago, it took him the same amount of time to pull a single point of vitality from the dying grassland around the Wastes.

"I wonder why they have less vitality than the black roses. The mana in here is denser than around the manor, right?"

<Yeah, but don't ask me why. I'm sure an Alchemist would love to take a look at them, but I don't know shit about plants,> the spirit confessed.

"Probably something to do with their mana eating properties, but I guess it doesn't matter." After making sure there was nothing nearby ready to attack him the moment he got distracted, he wriggled back far enough that he felt safe while still having enough light to read by.

"Open sesame," he whispered, and his Ledger sprawled out on the stone in front of him.

[ Status:

Name: Symon

Class: Cursed Healer

Strength: 1.10 {+0.04}

Constitution: 1.62 {+0.13}

Acuity: 1.16 {+0.04}

Intelligence: 1.17 {+0.02}

Will: 1.70 {+0.11}

Vessel (Vitality): 23/23

Abilities:

Idealise (24) {+1}

Seize (22) {+1}

Essence Bond (19)

Passives:

Anatomy (13) {+1}

Bleeding Resistance (14) {+2}

Languages (17) {+1}

Pain Resistance (21) {+1}

Poison Resistance (10) {+4}

Running (10) {+1}

Swords (9) {+1} ]

Titles:

Blessed by Order

Blessed by Chaos

World Traveller ]

"Wow," he breathed, "that's really good." It was supposed to take years and years of effort to get from the First to the Second Step, and he'd already made a solid dent in his progress there.

<Yeah, that's what happens when you almost kill us both to save a damn elf. Hells, most Third Steps wouldn't have survived looking like you did, but they wouldn't have been hurt by the fall in the first place, either,> Keelgrave commented.

Symon shrugged, the motion awkward considering his prone position. He didn't regret risking himself, and not just for heroic reasons. If Entisse had been killed by the spider, he would have been next. Even if he did miraculously defeat it, he wouldn't have lasted more than a day alone in the dungeon.

Everything except his Essence Bond with Keelgrave had levelled up, though he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the single level to his Swords skill. It made him feel better about branching out to new weapons, as it wasn't like he was losing out on much progress. Nine levels would come fast. Of course, he didn't actually have a punching Passive yet, but he had an idea for that.

His Attributes had seen a big jump, too, but the imbalance between them was getting more and more obvious. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, as almost everyone chose to specialise to one degree or another, but it was something he hoped to balance out slightly through his training.

He wriggled backwards through the tunnel, eager to start.