Rules of Biomancy: A LitRPG Healer Fantasy

Jack took a deep breath, held it for four seconds, and then breathed out. He waited four seconds more before repeating the action. It kept his pulse low, his focus high, thanks to some nerve in his face. The point was that his hands weren't shaking now, his eyes didn't tire, and the rest of his body wasn't as tense as it wanted to be.

He was in control.

He was calm.

The system kept him calm.

He breathed in, waited for four seconds, and breathed out.

He felt calm.

Jack wasn't truly calm, but it was close enough that he could continue his work. Going by the clock inside his mind, he'd repeated the exercise nearly a hundred times over, meaning his Core would soon run dry. He avoided that as much as he could, as emptying it completely made the recovery take slightly longer, and his fingers would shake for hours afterwards.

When precision was key, that couldn't be allowed.

Focus.

His hands turned the crown a single degree, his right thumb moving to the new portion of orichalcum. He could've kept his original grip on the relic, as he'd done in the first two days of this, but by maintaining direct contact with the area being transmuted, he could work a little more efficiently.

Efficiency was key.

Breathe, Jack.

Two minutes later, Jack felt a twitch in his right bicep. Not enough to be painful, but the warning had been heard. Slowly, he lowered the amount of Mana being channeled, being careful not to do anything sudden, until the Transmute Solid spell naturally came to an end.

"Did that round take longer, or am I just tired?" he asked Sasha. When he got no reply, he turned his head towards her to ask again, before realizing she was nowhere to be seen. At some point during the latest round of transmuting, it seemed she'd gone ahead and walked away. "Aleksi's not going to be a fan of that."

The last part came out as a mutter, to no benefit but his own. He knew Sasha would care very little about what Aleksi thought, at the moment. The big man was frustrated, with good reason. Elijah and Grace had been swallowed up three days ago now, and nothing had been heard from them since.

When Aleksi had given up on tearing away the dirt and rock, they'd left the Dungeon to alert the dwarves. Their words hadn't been taken well, to the point that there had been some initial disbelief, but when none of the dwarves could locate the two missing people on the floor, they had accepted their claims.

Yet, not much could be done.

Lord Greyhelm, the Earth Mage who oversaw the work, had found nothing in the stone below. No sign of Elijah or Grace could be found within five hundred meters of the cavern. The stone-skinned dwarf could hardly believe it. Even if they had been killed by an undiscovered trap of some sort, their bodies should've left traces for weeks.

Jack still felt chills from the moment the dwarf had explained that part to Aleksi and the others. When green veins had briefly appeared on the man's arms and his eyes had started to emit light, Jack had feared he'd need to step in, but something had made Aleksi calm down. A hope that Elijah and Grace were still alive, maybe, or the understanding that, if they weren't, they still had a job to do.

A calm mind is important.

The dwarves had been very understanding. Since it couldn't be proven that the two had died, an announcement had been sent out to all who dived into the Dungeon's depths. Drawings of Elijah and Grace, alongside a hefty reward to anybody who found them.

From the number of digits on the poster, the reward was higher than any other in the past century. Jack supposed that was to be expected when it had been sponsored by the dwarven king himself.

There'd been other steps taken to apologize, of course. Originally, they'd been expected to stay in some rooms at the temple, but the king had invited them to the castle instead. Luxurious foods, anything they could ever want, all within reach.

Aleksi had declined.

When the king had then offered security inside the Dungeon, which Elijah had brought up before the accident, there had been some hesitation on Aleksi's part. In the end, that had also been declined. Jack wasn't sure why the giant would reject that, since it seemed that it would be worthwhile to have, but he respected Aleksi's decision.

After all, it wasn't Jack who'd potentially lost their partner of half a century.

The king had been against the giant's choice, however. Not to a point where he demanded guards follow them in, but he still asked that they stay together while inside. If something like this were to repeat, it would be best for the entire group to be taken rather than only a single person. A higher likelihood of survival or something.

Jack hadn't been listening much at that point.

Time's up.

Forcing himself away from the memories, Jack took a deep breath, holding it for four seconds before slowly breathing out. Yet again, his heartbeat came to a crawl, his fingers ceased that mild trembling, and he inspected the crown in his hands.

With the intense regimen and the lack of distractions, he was more than halfway with the repairs, way ahead of the schedule that Lord Greyhelm had expected of him. Jack hoped that was a good thing.

Maybe Elijah would have disagreed.

Who could truly say? It wasn't like he could ask the guy anymore.

Focus.

Channeling of [Transmute Solid] has been activated! Current cost: 11MP/sec

The strings of Mana entered through the orichalcum with ease, Jack felt that flow of knowledge alongside the structure of the material. In his mind's eye, he could see the small imperfections that led to its high tactile strength, the sharpness it granted a blade, and the rough texture nearly impossible to remove. In contrast, the mithril was impossibly smooth, a prodigy of perfection, almost resistant to the mistakes Jack would sometimes make. It had no mind, Jack assured himself over and over again, but the white metal almost seemed to stray from his will whenever he didn't follow the blueprint well enough.

Or maybe his subconscious had started to intrude upon his actions more than he cared to admit.

It was hard to say. The dwarven people looked upon mithril as the metal closest to Duron, the perfect being. He'd heard whispers about some of the dwarves in the deepest cities striving to replace their entire bodies with the white metal, intending to gain a closer connection to the god.

Jack had nothing to say to that, but he had to admit that the metal had some abnormal properties. That eternal coolness to the touch, the ability to alter the metal when he wished, but have it otherwise stay perfectly in place. Jack's sixth sense about the strength and flexibility of the material he worked with always gave differing answers about the mithril. Sometimes, the back of his mind would whisper how perfect it would be as a heat shield, other times a breast plate to disperse both magical and kinetic attacks alike, but never did it ever hint that mithril could work for blades, bullets, or even blunt weaponry.

It didn't want to be used for offence but for defence and general utility.

Did that imply yet again that the legendary metal had a mind of its own? Kinda. Did Jack want to admit that out loud? No way.

Mutterings almost found their way onto the tip of his tongue, as he wanted to talk about that strangeness with Sasha, but she wasn't here to listen. Nobody was.

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Nobody was meant to be, at least. As the world around him came into better view, his singular focus broken, Jack's ears picked up the sound of boots walking along the gravel path. Thick boots made to last, alongside the sound of metal armor shifting with every step. Jack's breaks outside the dungeon had made him recognize that noise instantly.

Three pairs of boots.

Three dwarves, well-armored and silent. Jack's initial guess had been that the king or Lord Greyhelm had decided guards were needed anyway, but… they were coming from the wrong direction. The entrance was the opposite way from where they were approaching, and Jack was certain the dwarves wouldn't go on such a detour.

Ergo, there was trouble.

"Hello there!" Jack greeted as loudly as socially acceptable, waving with his left hand as his right checked the holster beneath the shirt. It was loaded, safety on, but that could change very quickly. "Anything I could help you three with?"

Orange beards, some armor that isn't matching the other pieces, and… is that shoulder-plate cracked?

Non-standard attire. The state of the equipment had to be downright offensive, from what Jack could remember about the dwarven codes of conduct. A dwarf's pride was deeply woven into their material possessions and their condition. To be wearing gear that looked so disheveled, they either didn't value how others saw them or they didn't wish to be easily recognized after this.

"You sure that kid's the one?" one dwarf asked the others, as the trio stopped ten meters away from Jack. "It's a damn child."

"It's just how humans look," another corrected. "He's holding the crown. Can't be anybody else."

"Doesn't matter how he looks," the third agreed. "The visiting lord confirmed the transmutation. He's good enough."

Jack was starting to piece together the situation.

"Am I correct to assume you don't have approval from the king to be here?" Jack questioned with a smile, taking one step back when one of the dwarves took one step forward. "If you don't, then you're trespassing on royal land, you know? Very illegal."

"Ownership is subjective," the first dwarf replied, taking another step forward. Jack matched it with another step back, while taking out his pistol. "We've heard a lot of whispering about what you can do, and we're here to give you an offer. No need for your little toy."

This little toy isn't to be underestimated.

Jack didn't say that, of course. Angering them outright wasn't in his best interests.

"And if I politely refuse?" he asked, to which he heard a snort from one of the others. "That's what I thought."

"We don't want to hurt you, lad," the first dwarf assured him. Jack believed him, as pain could reduce the quality of his work. "We are merely in need of your services, and we're under orders not to accept a no."

"So… kidnapping?"

"If you don't come with us willingly, we will consider alternative means, yes."

Such a fancy way of wording it. Jack could almost think of them as refined gentlemen until he saw the mace that one of the other dwarves pulled out.

"If that's how you want to do it," Jack said tiredly, adjusting his footing slightly. For a second, the shoulders on the frontmost dwarf seemed to relax, as if they thought Jack had accepted his defeat.

They were mistaken.

In one fluid motion, he raised the pistol, adjusted his aim for center mass, and fired. The firing sounded akin to a sandal hitting wood, thanks to the noise-reduction enchantments from Grace, but the bullet hitting the plate armor was closer to a cheap gong.

Obscenities fell from the dwarven tongues. Jack cursed internally, noting the lack of a hole. Cheap armor or not. The bullet didn't carry enough penetrative power to go through.

Apologies to you, Hafrad. You were right in this instance.

That didn't stop Jack from firing again, however. This time for the right arm. First shot was a glancing blow, but the second reached the glove. The thickness of that piece had been sacrificed for more flexibility, and Jack smiled when he could visually confirm the penetration.

Not that this meant he'd won.

"By Duron, you will be put to use," the dwarf swore, gripping the hand as grey blood began to flow from the glove. "Get him, you fools."

While dwarven legs were shorter than human ones, and though the dwarves preferred much heavier armor, you would be mistaken if you thought them slow. At a speed Jack had not witnessed from any of the warriors before, they rapidly approached him.

Jack did not falter with his shots, going for the head and the neck immediately. With them moving around, however, accuracy suffered heavily, and there were only so many bullets in one magazine. By the ninth round, he was out.

Reloading fast on the move had never been his forte, and a gloved hand caught his leg. The magazine clicked into place as he fell, and Jack turned to lie on his back to fire, but another hand grabbed the gun from his grip and threw it away with ease.

Dwarven strength is cheating.

"Got him," the two dwarves reported, as they held him down. They looked completely untroubled, as they gripped Jack's arms, barely showing any exertion. Jack couldn't move his limbs at all. "Got the sedative?"

Oh, shit.

No.

Jack saw a dwarf rummaging through one of the side pockets. The sound of metal hitting glass vials was obvious.

This wasn't happening.

He refused the notion.

But what could he do?

The third dwarf slowly approached. Through the small slits in the helmet, Jack could see the anger in those eyes.

"Does he need both hands to work?" the first dwarf asked, to which the others shrugged. "Probably not."

The non-bleeding hand, covered in grey blood, reached down and gripped the spot between his forearm and hand. Steadily, the dwarf started to apply pressure. It hurt, the small metallic plates on the gloves digging straight into his skin.

Wait.

Metallic.

Amidst the rapidly increasing pain, a desperate idea formed.

Dual-Channeling of [Range Transmutation] and [Transform Solid] has been activated! Current cost: 192MP/sec

In the span of half a second, Jack focused on the side of the dwarf's glove. It was some form of steel alloy. He didn't care, transmuting the inner parts with his best approximation of fulminated mercury while following the guidance of the voice in the back of his head to make it so much more reactive.

Either through his desperation pulling more Mana than what was safe from his Core, or steel being unusually susceptible to the modifications, Jack successfully emptied a third of all his stored energy before the dwarf noticed something wrong.

"What—"

The fingers inside the half-transmuted glove pressed too heavily on the crystalline structure. Jack had already closed his eyes, but it didn't spare his ears or the flesh on his arm. His left ear rang loudly, he could hear shrieks of pain, and opening his eyes revealed the dwarf clutching at his right arm.

No hand could be seen.

Several parts of the glove had gone through Jack's arm, however. He could barely feel it, his rapid heartbeat and the surge of adrenaline sparing him, but Jack didn't fail to notice the problem with his left hand.

As he raised the arm, two of the fingers didn't follow, and the others didn't look right to his muddled mind.

… Huh.

That wasn't good.

"— don't care! Get the bastard," the first dwarf spat out. Or maybe one of the others. Jack had trouble focusing. This felt too familiar. "The Dungeon can't hide this mess."

Why was the ground shaking? Maybe it was the shock, or the flashes of old memories, but Jack could swear he could feel the earth below his fingers trembling.

"Come on, round ears," he heard, as somebody grabbed his shirt from behind. He fought, trying to get his functioning hand on them, but he was twisted around to make it impossible. "Just give it up, you—"

The dwarf disappeared, and Jack fell to the floor. Brief confusion spread through him until he heard the roar of pain, and that faint glow of green.

"Oh, hey, Aleksi. I was getting worried," Jack said. By how weirdly hard it was for him to move his tongue, Jack wasn't sure that's what he got out, but it was probably close enough. "Can you help me? Please?"

He didn't hear any replies. Maybe because of the ringing. Maybe because Aleksi was busy tearing the arm off the dwarf that had been dragging him along. Was that screaming? Jack couldn't tell anymore.

It hurts.

Wait, where'd his fingers go?

"Foul beast!" Jack heard one of the dwarves shout, swinging the mace into Aleksi's side. The giant didn't move to dodge the blow as he finished tearing off the head of the first dwarf. Did he even notice the spikes embedded in his stomach? He must've. Jack would've. "Abomination."

Jack could see Aleksi open his mouth, but he couldn't catch the words. The ringing was getting too loud.

He saw another weapon pulled out from one of the last two dwarfs' side-satchels, however. It looked heavy, with a large barrel, and with an extreme flash when fired.

Pellets the size of loose change flew through the air and through Aleksi. Jack could see how the giant stopped in his approach. He could see through Aleksi's chest.

But he also saw how the holes disappeared in seconds, green veins pulsing where the mortal wounds had sat.

"You— You're no human."

"Not to you."

Though he tried his best to watch, the world blurred into a single color soon enough. In those last pushes of will, though, Jack was assured that none of the dwarves remained. And, before darkness fully took him, he felt gentle hands take him away from the bloodied grass.