CH10: Healers

The town of black land was small, like New York City was small, named after the famously fertile black dirt from its numerous rivers, bogs, and ponds overflowing and leaving behind fertile land. His skills and attributes did a lot, but he didn't expect to see rows of towering buildings climbing to the sky. There was a public library next to the town hall at the center filled with all the information Zack could ever want. Statues of heroes surrounded the cathedral, a place dedicated to the worship of the Baal, the great dragon of light whose eyes light the world. A fort with two towers loomed over the town on a hill nearby. They had met the outgoing patrol on their way to cull the monster population. Their armor and weapons didn't gleam like those who protected Lord Fist.

Zack stood beside Thistle as they waited for the guards to check a merchant's caravan until one saw them and waved them on. The two stars of Baal were vanishing over the horizon as they made their way to the tavern. Monster bounty posters littered a notice board with a mean-looking black hydra in one of the corners.

"Don't even think about it. Nothing that ends up on that board is normal. Ten gold for a goblin's head would only happen if it were in the E rank." Thistle said.

He locked eyes on a naga with a 100-gold bounty. Thistle trotted over to blow his view.

They stopped at the public outhouses for Thistle to relieve herself, and Zack listened as the water pushed the waste through pipes out of the town. While it wasn't indoor plumbing, it was close. Zack didn't like shitting outside, but he had gotten used to it.

He had let his stacks drop back to normal before they left, and his stomach felt empty. After eating constantly for days, he felt more like a shonen protagonist than ever. All he had done for the last three days was eat, train, and brush Thistle because she couldn't care for herself. He was going to spend the night with her in town and was a little nervous.

Sleeping over with a girl he was interested in was always nerve-wracking. What if he farted in his sleep and smelled it? He couldn't give a wrong impression. What if she had roommates? Zack hadn't asked, and she hadn't brought it up, but that was a possibility. She could have a hot elf roommate that didn't approve of him.

Zack tried to relax as the bouncer looked them up and down before letting them through. There wasn't exactly a line going into the tavern; it was Belzeday, the first day of the week, so not many people were drinking. It wasn't against the dragon religion as Beelzebub, the god, was considered a brother of Baal, but it was considered disrespectful to the dragon god. Luciday was the second to last day of the week and when it was considered best to party. Satanday was the previous day and considered a rest day in preparation for work.

It was best to go in today instead of waiting because the tavern might be too crowded to relax on other days.

They found their table on the second floor with black ears sticking out of a thick winter hood. Milly was a hellhound and hadn't entirely understood what that meant. A long straw rose at an angle into an Anubis-shaped mask. Red highlights stood out on wolfish ears lined with small golden rings. Milly mixed armor and thick insulation to keep her warm even on the chilliest summer days. She drank from her tankard through the long straw. He hadn't gotten it until he saw her, but hellhounds were a kind of monster living in hot regions.

Zack sat down, and Thistle bent her legs at the head of the table. "Thistle, I hope the stairs didn't trouble you. I like the second floor, where fewer people stare or interrupt our talks. If gossip isn't wrong, this must be your little human boyfriend, Zack." She drained her tankard before his eyes. "I'm ready for a refill when the wench comes for your orders."

"Jill will spit in your food if she hears you call her that again."

"Sorry, I hate shivering, but I like all the green. I'm Milly if Thistle hasn't told you already."

"She had, and my name is Zack. Is there no skill that could help?"

"Cold resistance is ****. It's better to rank up until I can handle the cold myself. Anyway, I'm the mage of our group. You'll rely on me to burn things and keep enemies from healing. If it were warmer, I would remove my mask, but my face must be a mystery until we get to Frank."

"Oh, stop it. We both know you're gorgeous." Thistle said.

"So, how big of a group do we hope to get?" There aren't exactly a lot of people.

"I left some posters, so we'll drink here and see if anyone arrives. If not, three barely cuts dungeon diving."

"So, I'm a close melee if that makes sense."

"Thistle is our tank, and I'm the magic caster. We need a healer, but it's easier to get passive healing skills in dungeons. After a few runs, we can also buy some potions. We can sell mana stones to the guild in charge of the dungeon in exchange for guild credit," Milly said.

"The guild?" Zack asked.

"Oh, you've never heard of the guild. Your pa is a soldier. Oh well. The adventurer's guild bought the rights to the dungeon, but they still opened it to G-rank people to look for potential recruits. Guild adventurers can access guild archives of skills, builds, and dungeons. They have training programs to get someone quickly into the F rank. Most make E rank in less than a decade, and some even make D grade, but that's rare." Zack heard thumping and saw Milly's tail hitting the wooden bench before him.

She seemed to have a hard time hiding her excitement. Zack threw back his tankard and enjoyed the light buzz from the drink. It didn't taste dirty or bloody like the healthy water. That was good—it was very good. Jill came over with more drinks, and it wasn't long before a man in white robes with golden blond hair arrived at their table.

"My name is Jeromy, and I can heal with a touch. Small wounds close in a flash, and I'm working on broadening my horizons. If we dive, I expect always to be protected, or I won't heal anyone when it counts." The man stood hovering but not sitting down.

Healing was useful. Zack was sure they needed a healer, but this guy didn't seem like the right fit. Jeromy sneered at them and turned his nose up like they were lucky to breathe the same air as him.

Zack turned up his tankard and let the sweet buzz of **** soothe his anger. Maybe the guy would be less of an ass with some beer in him.

"Take a seat and order a drink. After that introduction, I want to know why you think we want to help you broaden your horizons. It sounds like we would be better off taking a trunk of potions than you," Zack said.

"Fuck, you didn't just say that," Milly said.

Jeromy's face went purple. "You won't speak to an honorable healer that way." He pulled a mace behind his back and smashed it on the table, spilling Thistle's drink. "Clean up your animal. It reeks of boos."

"Clean that up, or I'm going to shove that makeup into your ass," Zack said.

Jill sighed with our food orders on a tray and retreated before closing the door.

"Zack, calm down. It's just beer. I'll let you brush my coat after I wash it off." Thistle said.

Jeromy moved, pointing the largest spike of his mace between Zack's eyes. "This isn't over. Potions can't replace healers, and I'll prove it. After I tell my master, no healer will work with your group again."

This time, Thistle sighed and got up. Milly joined her as Jeromy's face scrunched up in confusion.

Zack grabbed the man's hand where he held the mace and punched him. Something hard banged into his fist, but his knuckles fractured and healed on enough rocks that they had grown stronger over the past few days.

Jeromy snorted. "Did you think I wore no armor under my robes? I'm a healer. We all wear a breastplate of steel that is a quarter-inch thick."

The healer had made beating his ass a fun challenge. Zack knew he was drunk.

Zack punched again, and the steel breastplate crumbled beneath his blow.

The steel bent and groaned as he pulled his fist back and punched again. Blood spilled from Jeromy's lips. He grabbed his chest, and green light bathed the room as the healer mended himself.

"If you had even appeared apologetic for what you did, I would have let you off. But you were happy that you spilled beer on her. If we are going to be blacklisted anyway, well, I might as well carry out my threats." Zack said.

"No," Jeromy said with eyes as wide as saucers.

He punched the other man in the shoulder and felt Jeromy's grip on his made slacken. "You just severed all the nerves in my shoulder. How did you do that with a punch?" Jeromy asked.

Zack kicked the side of his inner knee, driving the man to the ground. "I am a man of my word."

He pointed the mace down. "Eyes open or closed."

"I'll help you; I'm sorry for what I said. I'm sorry I spilled beer on the animal," Jeromy said.

"That was the wrong thing to say." He stabbed forward and threw a quick jab, focusing on knocking Jeromy out with all his might. A firm fist, after all, could also use just enough power to be non-lethal. He felt his aim adjust. Under some instinct, he hit Jeromy on the middle of the chin.

Jeromy's eyes rolled up, and he fell ****.

"Buck, I thought you were going to do it."

"We might have been blacklisted then," Milly said.

"I couldn't do it. Shoving a mace up someone's ass is just cruel and unusual punishment for spilling beer on someone. Even if it's someone I care about, I can't go around maiming and torturing people because I'm angry." Zack said.

"Yeah, you need to be much stronger for that," Milly said.

"Is there any way we can get him out of here?"

Jill came in with a steaming pile of washcloths and their orders. "Is he dead?"

"No, just ****. He broke a mug and damaged the table with his mace. I don't know if we have enough money to cover the damages."

"Jeromy is only an apprentice healer no matter who his grandfather is. His talk of blacklisitng you was just talk. I'm glad you didn't shove a mace up his butt." Jill said.

A bouncer came through, grabbed Jeromy, and took some coins from his purse before leaving. Thistle cleaned herself ****-free, and Zack enjoyed a steak with mashed potatoes and gravy. He rubbed her shoulders, sitting just behind where her human and horse halves met.

"I'm fine. You don't have to pamper me. Thank you for getting mad on my behalf. I wasn't sure if you cared or were lonely and settled for me."

Milly drained another tankard through her straw. "Ok, spill, do you have a monster dick like something a human woman couldn't possibly take."

Zack recalled the massive thing that appeared in the dreamland and recalled that his dick hadn't shrunk when he traveled through Chaos. He did a little math, which was a little too big after gaining the plow skill. The subconscious had to play a role. Then again, if he learned anything from the porn hub, a girl can fit surprisingly large objects in their body.

He dismounted and approached her resting form. "Kiss," Milly chanted as he approached Thistle. Her large green eyes sparkled in the low lantern light as he pressed his lips against hers, and she wrapped her arms around him like a vice. They began slowly making out as Milly howled in celebration.

Then he heard a cough and saw another man in white robes similar to the first, but with patches in his robes and an unusually long nose. Instead of a mace, the man had a club with spikes nailed through it.

"Is this the right place to meet for the healer position?" Zack returned to his seat and nodded to the empty part of the table.