Rules of Biomancy: A LitRPG Healer Fantasy

Sven wanted to curl up and cry the second he felt the loss of sensation. Except for his thumb, all the fingers on his right hand had lost at least half their length.

His first major injury. It hurt. It hurt so much.

Ester's panic automatically stopped his escape. A protocol to keep her safe, to stop him from saving his own life at the cost of hers. Sven had barely given it thought in the past, but now he understood the reason behind it.

Even with years of training, months of practicing this one movement, he still wanted to take the easy route.

'Get us out of here!' Ester demanded through the connection, uncaring for the wall of roots separating them. Yet Sven couldn't. He needed physical touch to bring others along, and only their guard could be reached. 'Now!'

At the threat of his throat being crushed by the magical bindings, Sven made the impossible possible.

Dual-Channeling of [Partial Astral Walk] and [Astral Walk] has been activated! Current cost: 392MP/sec

During his entire life, the partial version of his daily ability had been the only Tier 7 spell he'd learned. Even then, Sven could barely control it. He allowed it to cover his right arm, to let the limb pierce into the astral realm, and then let it reemerge on the other side of the wall. Each millisecond was a coin toss on whether the spell would hold or if it would falter and amputate the arm. He could do nothing but work fast and pray that nothing got misaligned.

Come on, come— There!

Fingers grasped his mutilated hand.

Physical connection.

Ignoring the screaming, the oncoming dread of nothingness, and the abnormal signature readings, Sven pulled as hard on his Core as he could. Realty was torn into pieces, astral hands grabbing the three bodies into the other realm.

Colors flashed before his eyes. Sven could feel the guard next to him shouting and vomiting, but he gave it no heed. It wasn't his first time in this maze of multi-dimensional forestry, and he needed only three seconds before he found the correct door.

Good that he did, as his Core shook from overuse the second they landed. A slight pulse as a warning, one that would've done nothing normally but could've ripped them apart now.

"Good work," Ester bluntly said, tearing herself off the floor to keep her dignified persona. Nobody but Sven and the guard were around to witness it, but appearances had to be maintained regardless. "How I keep making the mistake of trusting Olvier's gadgets to do as promised, I don't understand. A 'temporary blocker for all magical channeling' should mean that it actually stops them from fighting back. He promised that even, and yet we're witness to the exact opposite."

His boss continued to criticize the borrowed equipment, as Sven slowly got off the floor. His limbs still shook, and his hand bled heavily. Each time his heart beat, blood seeped out a little heavier. He wouldn't die, but the pain was more than he wanted to handle, and it needed to be wrapped if the healers back at the capital were to have any chance of regrowing the digits.

Before he could stumble over to the emergency cabinet, which Sven had recently restocked, a groan caught his attention. The mage they'd brought along, with the state-of-the-art armor on his body, was still on the ground. His arms and legs moved around, but there was no coordination to the movements.

An injury of some sort? Sven hadn't noticed the man being hit, though he also hadn't noticed much of anything after losing his fingers.

"You alright, man?" Sven got out, kneeling and reaching for the mage. His unharmed hand only made it halfway before he lunged back, as what he saw made his body work on instinct.

"—from now on, we're… Sven, what's happening?" Ester questioned. She didn't sound scared, as that would be below her, but Sven could hear her uncertainty from the sight. "Sven."

Sven could say nothing, as the armored mage twisted and turned on the floor, trying to grab at something that wasn't there. In the magical spectrum, he seemed to boil, the flesh inside being eaten away by something. Yet it didn't look like anything. It looked like nothing, the absence of everything.

His body wanted to get away. It seemed to forget his injury, as adrenaline got sent through his system once again in the vain hope he would run away and hide.

I've seen this before.

"Sven!" Ester called, finally making him blink. "What is happening?"

Her angry tone made him snap back, and he looked at his boss.

"The… the young woman we've seen before, the one that stopped the hidden orb's attack," Sven replied, his mind reeling in as he tried his hardest to be analytical. Ester was unable to understand the emotions flooding him. She couldn't see what he could see. She couldn't understand the reason why she needed to be afraid. "She hit him with something before we escaped. It's killing him."

"Killed him, I think you mean," Ester corrected, grabbing one of the brooms from the corner of the room and poking at the armored mage. As if made of sand, both the armor and flesh within crumbled. Within seconds, it looked like nothing more than a pile of dust. "Not a necrotic affinity, I assume. Did you recognize it?"

"No."

"Well, whatever it was, we don't want the traitors to have it," Ester concluded, throwing him the broom. Instinct alone allowed Sven to grab it. "Get your hand wrapped, clean this up, and then put in a request with the spies. They can spend a day killing this one, instead of failing to kill the queen. Maybe they can prove useful for once."

… Sven obeyed without comment. Ester had already moved on to the next task, and he was expected to do the same.

Within ten minutes, he'd bandaged his hand. A bit of salve had stopped the bleeding. Each movement of the hand still caused pain to shoot through his arm, but it was better than nothing.

A bit of dust collection, some water, and a final scrub removed all traces of death. After that came the lunch duties, where Sven brought Ester food and tea, along with reading out incoming messages so she could eat without dirtying documents.

"King Oberon's advisors want a meeting next week, regarding the expenses and improvised wording during the altercation," Sven said, flipping through the papers. "Half a dozen merchants are complaining about the new taxation for the war fund, one of the eastern dukes wants an update on when the expected unification happens, one of the Royal Mages is requesting to join the front lines, and… Oh."

"What?" Ester questioned, pausing in her eating as Sven reread the last letter to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"The meeting with Lura, regarding the profit splitting from the southern Dungeon, has been moved to… this afternoon," Sven continued, checking the time. "She'll be here in two hours."

Ester immediately dropped the sandwich that Sven had spent ten minutes preparing, wiping her hands on a handkerchief before beginning to scour the room for the correct reports and wishes of the crown.

"Damn those knife ears and their inability to take an acceptable deal," Ester muttered, digging through one of the cabinets that housed the archival information for southern produce. "Sven, get me a new stack of lined paper. Knowing how those long-lived bastards operate, we're going to need it."

"Yes, ma'am," Sven said, gently putting the incoming messages down on the corner of the table, so he could remember to sort them later. Going by this reaction, he probably also needed to talk with the receptionist again. Sorting an emergency meeting change into the class B prioritisation? It was pure luck that they'd read through it before Lura would be coming. If anything like that happened, he didn't doubt Ester would've ordered for—

"Maybe Oberon wouldn't mind pushing the second invasion forward, if he knew how much of a pain these fools were."

When Ester said that, Sven had already left the room, searching through the extra paper in the hallway, but his ears still caught her murmurs.

… Second invasion?

Instinct put it above his pay grade. Undoubtedly. Any plans more than five years ahead were on a need-to-know basis, and Sven had only known about the recapturing of Serenova due to his position as Ester's assistant. An invasion into Ethon?

The goals of the Castillan crown caused it to make sense. Three dungeons gave them power beyond most kingdoms, but four… Sven wanted to convince himself that they wouldn't, that their preaching of peace to the elves was real, but he knew the truth. He'd been there when Ester had practiced her words to Serenova, had tried to perfect the wording to make the average commoner understand it and resent the fake royals. Castilla did not play fair, as that would cost more lives on their side.

Lura is in danger.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Not immediately. There'd still be ten, maybe twenty, years before that time came, but Sven did not doubt it would come. Castilla would build up their army in secret once again, preparing for an assault, and the enemy wouldn't be able to resist before it was too late.

And Ethon was going to let them into the southern Dungeon, getting a few years of profits without knowing the true cost.

Despite the pain, despite the sting that travelled up Sven's right arm, he allowed the remainder of his right hand to glide across the surface of his throat. A decade had passed since the runes were put into his skin, and he could still feel the indents. There were three lines at the bottom, a circle on each side, and then an entire circuit of connectors beneath the skin. Sven could only feel the first two parts these days. Any attempt at searching for the last part resulted in automatic retaliation. He wasn't supposed to be able to hide from them, after all.

But… the outer parts, those meant to keep him in place? To let those above hold his leash tighter?

Those could be tampered with.

"Sven, I need that paper," Ester shouted, bringing Sven back into the present. "We have two hours, and I don't plan on being caught unaware."

Neither do I.

He brought the paper before cleaning up the office. Lura was coming to visit, after all, and a clean office signified a tempered and calm mind. The perfect position for bargaining, for mild-mannered discussions.

Ester didn't question his actions, didn't question his eyeing the statues that sat on the cabinets. He felt the tethers, felt the powers within them. They weren't protected, as Ester couldn't unlock such things without Sven's aid, and that extra step was to be avoided at all costs.

Yet that gave him a chance.

As Sven removed the half-eaten lunch from the room and washed the dishes in the kitchen, three quick cuts were made. A little deep, very painful, but the loosening of the leash was worth it.

A small line of Mana, unnoticeable to most, left his skin a second later. A contingency for those who wanted freedom, to warn the hands that held the chains.

Sven grabbed it with his left hand before it could escape his reach. No point in giving away the betrayal.

Not yet.

Hours passed, the receptionist announced Lura's arrival, and Sven and Ester stood ready to receive her. Sven kept his face calm, giving a polite smile when Lura's eyes pointed his way, but he did not indicate anything amiss.

Ester did her usual routine of small talk, asking about Lura's journey, any possible difficulties, and then offering food and drink that Lura had no intention of accepting. Then came the business talk. Ethon wanted more reassurances, a slightly larger chunk of profits, and some form of assurance that things were going smoothly.

"We've had no real difficulties these past weeks, if you'd believe it," Ester said, with such sincerity that Sven could almost also trust her words. He'd seen the reports, however. People were unsatisfied, investors wanted results, and the true heavy-hitters of Castilla were being brought in to stop any larger complaining. "We've had losses, but everything is still within projections. By this time next year, the regular operations will be fully assimilated into the claimed areas."

"My king will be happy to hear that," Lura replied. Her eyes briefly went to Sven, who did his best to remain as passive as always. By how the eyes rested on his expression, he knew he couldn't hide the truth well enough.

But, then again, who could, knowing that the person they loved only had so many years left until they would be cut down like an animal? Sven had a heart, and that heart tightened at the thought of Lura being betrayed by her supposed allies.

"I understand that it can be hard staying neutral in this altercation between Castilla and Serenova," Ester continued, handing over some of the newly outlined changes to previous agreements. "In the past weeks, I've been discussing a possible improvement to our arrangement with the southern Dungeon. With the emotional distress that can come from Serenova's demands, we've increased your share of the Dungeon's profits by five percent, along with a new section of Kulvik for your people only. As I understand it, the idea of having to intermingle with humans constantly would be… difficult, for some elven folk."

Sven had witnessed the hurried communications with the crown an hour before. There had been no discussion about this appeasement.

"The cultural differences are a barrier for many on both sides, yes," Lura agreed, those sharp eyes scanning every word of the document. An easy smile fell upon her lips a moment later. "Now… as you have been very honest with me, Ester Sutton, it would only make sense for me to do the same."

"Oh?"

"King Malon, my king, wishes for the formalization of these terms," she continued. "An immediate one, preferably, where both kings can look eye-to-eye and make an oath."

She further clarified that it would be completed through the elven orbs, the artifacts that allowed for soul projection into the ancient forests. Nothing dangerous, nothing that had precedent, but the word 'oath' did carry a certain promise. A promise that the elves would stay out of the current war completely. Sven knew that Ester had been mildly stressed about the possibility, so this opportunity was a gift from beyond.

"If that is the case, I will have to schedule an emergency meeting with my king, where we can all be present," Ester said, repeating Sven's predictions. That his boss's eyes fell on him the next instant made him worry she could even read his thoughts. "Sven, how about you stay here with Lura, while I get in contact with the crown? It should only take a few minutes."

"It will be no problem, I'm sure," Lura said. Sven nodded mutely.

That was more than enough for his boss, who left the office. Sven closed the door, counting the steps in his head until he was confident she wouldn't be able to hear.

"So—" Lura began, but Sven cut her off.

"Castilla is going to betray you," Sven said, to which he got no immediate response. Just confusion in Lura's eyes. "The entire point of your nation staying neutral is to allow a clean takeover of the southern Dungeon. After that, they'll build up another army and invade Ethon."

"... How do you know this?" Lura questioned, eyes narrowed as she leaned forward. Sven's heart lightened a little when she didn't think he was crazy. She believed him.

"I overheard it," he explained. "Ester is saying whatever she needs to say to stop you from helping Serenova."

Lura looked him in the eyes. Sven stared back.

Please believe me.

"Okay," Lura finally said, making Sven breathe out. He hadn't even realised he'd been holding his breath. "I… I need you to repeat this to Malon. He needs to hear it from you, or he won't believe it."

He felt enamoured with the way he could see the thoughts running around in her head.

"Makes sense," Sven said. His pulse was increasing. "We need to get out of here now."

"Can you get us to Ethon?"

"It's harder to reach places I haven't been before, but if you have a map and can visualize it when we're in the Astral Realm, I can probably—"

A click.

Oh no.

Sven acted, filling his lungs with air before he felt the crushing of his windpipe. The leash on his life had been loosened enough not to kill him outright, but the final breath had been taken regardless.

Ignoring the pain in his right hand, he slammed it onto Lura's shoulder, fully intending to teleport them as far away from here as possible, but the Astral Realm didn't obey his orders.

Channeling of [Astral Walk] has failed! Core connection unstable.

The statues.

"You think I'd miss that trick of yours, Sven?"

Ignoring Lura's words as his vision turned red, he saw Ester walk back into the room. She smiled at him, showing teeth, yet the smile didn't go beyond that. Her eyes were lifeless, as if she were looking down at mere dirt.

For her, she may have.

"It is a shame it has to end like this," Ester commented, closing the door behind her. Lura's hands were on Sven's shoulders; she was saying something to him, but he couldn't focus on anybody but his boss. "I really thought we were getting somewhere. Now I have to prepare for an entire accident and burn down a boat. So expensive."

"What did you do?" Lura spat when Sven's body began to feel like it was burning. In favor of keeping his mind running, his limbs were failing.

"Culling the unclean," Ester replied, her smile unwavering.

Sven wasn't sure if it was because of his steady loss of consciousness, but he didn't spot the moment when Lura moved. From one beat to the other, a knife was in her hand, on its way towards Ester's chest.

It didn't pierce. The knife and the hand holding it were lost, cut off by an invisible blade. If he'd been able to talk or react, he would've warned Lura. In this office, Ester was in control of everything.

"Maybe a boat is unneeded," Ester pondered, while Lura stepped away. In spite of losing her hand and the pain Sven knew she was in, she remained standing. "Insanity from Serenova's infiltration? I could spin that."

We need to get out.

Sven knew how little time he had left, but he was going to spend that doing something right. With a warbled sound from his closed-off throat, he caught Lura's attention.

A nod towards the statues, the stone animals on the cabinet.

Lura caught his intent instantly. Ester did the same. She shouted in defiance, reaching for a weapon, but humans could never compare to elves. All ten statues were thrown to the ground, instantly pulverised.

Sven felt the block on his Core disappear as Lura clutched his outreached hand again.

Channeling of [Astral Walk] has been activated! Current cost: 253MP/sec

In an instant, Sven and Lura shifted into the Astral Realm. Despite the lack of true air, as the concept was barely imaginable in the other reality, Sven did dream of breathing it in a little. Without the option to have it freely, everything just looked a little sweeter.

"Sven, I need you to focus."

Had he ever told Lura he loved her?

"Sven. Concentrate."

He didn't want her to cry, but he could say nothing. No words would leave him again. Still, he mouthed the three most important ones then and there.

"Please, Sven," Lura continued, sounding desperate. "Don't die. I'm focusing on Ethon right now. I'm imagining the beach. You wanted a house there, right? I know where it's supposed to sit. There's a healer right beside it. Just take us there."

I can't leave her here.

Despite the world darkening, despite every thought of his becoming a battle, he ordered his Core to move. He could almost see Ethon through the distant gates. Lura's mind was truly one of a kind, with how vividly she could imagine that beach.

The shaking of his body and the flickering of the reality around them, however, told Sven that it wasn't meant to be.

Empty.

His earlier stunt had been too much for his body. He couldn't force a repeat of the impossible so soon.

"What's wrong?" Lura asked, as he clutched at his chest. "Sven, I need you alive. We can go to Ethon later. Just bring us somewhere you'll live. Please."

Sven knew his fate. Lura didn't have to share it.

With the last moment of consciousness, the last strand of Mana left within him, he forced them into the physical realm again.

As a tear hit his eye from above, the darkness consumed him.