148. The Greatest Comeback

After what felt like an interminable amount of time, Zacko—or, more accurately, the glob of soaking hair and molten tissue that used to be Zacko—finally arrived on the roof of the Greenhouse. Serac had been gearing up to shower her friend with gratitude and adulation, but as soon as she saw him, the first words out of her mouth were:

"Damn, brother! You look rough! Are you sure you can do this?"

Indeed, Zacko looked so spent and so miserable that it was hard to tell which of them needed to be rescued. Not even Petter the mackerel had such a hard time with the stairs, which (no offense to Petter) struck Serac as more than passing strange. But if she weren't mistaken, the ambient temperature did seem to have picked up noticeably. She couldn't fathom why, but it would at least justify the absolute state of Zacko's heat intolerance.

The Manusya took some time to collect himself, hands on knees, sweat forming a veritable puddle at his feet. He then looked up, face flushed and eyes unfocused.

"Let's do this," he mumbled, words slurred and barely intelligible.

It occurred to Serac that the scene was very much like how the two of them had first met, except she was now the prisoner suspended in air and he the would-be rescuer. She had some doubts, however, that they'd be able to brute force their way out of this particular scenario.

"I see that Zacarias is down to his last point of HP," Trippy jumped in with a timely reminder, "in which case, he'd do well to avoid making direct contact with the wind. We don't know if it might damage him, nor can we—in our current state—afford to put that hypothesis to the test."

"Okay, but I don't have much HP left either. What if there's a way for him to break through the wind and smite me at the same time? That way, we could both end up back at the Hub—"

"Bad idea, princess," Zacko cut in, working off of half a conversation. "You don't know because you've been stuck in here this whole time, but there's some real funky business happening out there on the surface. The Realmtree on fire. Yakshas running around like headless chickens. And through it all, both the king and queen have been oddly 'absent'. Would love to reconstitute if we get the chance, but I don't know if we could risk slipping into the Interstitium to do that."

The Realmtree… on fire? Serac could hardly imagine it, but it might credibly explain the rise in temperature. As for the rest of the 'funky business', did that have anything to do with the power outage from earlier?

"If Zacarias's report is accurate, then I agree with his assessment." Trippy did what he did best, namely keeping Serac on task. "The Interstitium is a fickle beast. Unlike in the case of meditation, you never have real control over how long you stay in Souldust form after you've been smited. It would be ideal for Zacarias to break you out of this cell without harming you or himself in the process."

"Trippy's with you, Zacko," Serac paraphrased. "Whatever you do to get me out of here, you gotta do it in a way where you don't take any damage."

"Well, that might be an issue, considering my 'weapon' is my own body. See, where you like to shoot problems in the face, I like to punch—"

That was when the NINEFOLD master raised his gauntleted fists, then stared at them like he was seeing them for the first time.

"Oh shit," he murmured weakly. "I totally forgot I had these. Well, maybe it's a good thing I did forget, because otherwise, I might've wasted them on my Calmspawn army on my way here."

"Your what army?"

"Never mind that now. What's important is I do have a way to punch my problems in the face without getting hurt—up to a certain point."

Zacko was right, of course. All this time, his fists had been armored by a pair of [Abyssal Plates], capable of total damage negation as long as their [Durability] held. They were, as Zacko himself had called them, a 'break glass in case of emergency' type deal. Well, now seemed to be as good an emergency as any to break the glass.

But first, the Manusya tested the waters with a garden-variety left jab—the kind anyone could throw, NINEFOLD-trained or no. His gauntleted fist made contact with the windy barrier, producing a visible 'dent' along with an audible 'whoosh-whoosh'. But the dent repaired itself almost immediately, pushing back on the would-be face-puncher at the same time.

Serac watched the experiment with a mixture of relief and disappointment. Relief that the [Abyssal Plate] did its job and protected Zacko from lethal damage. And disappointment that her rescuer's punch had achieved very little in the way of rescue.

But, judging from the sardonic grin that had returned to Zacko's otherwise molten face, the rescuer didn't share in the pessimism. He let her know as much:

"Okay, I think I've got it," he announced, then muffled the rest of his speech with a laughing Buddha mask. "Get ready to move, princess. I can force open an exit, but the rest is up to you."

[Dreamer Aspect: THE THIRD DAO—BRASS OF ALIGNMENT]

Zacko's aura of Erudite purple first flared up, then shrank back down into concentrated rings of energy. Eight of them to be exact, all joined to the knuckles to give his punches that extra Poise-breaking oomph. The NINEFOLD master threw two such punches: a lightning-quick left jab followed by a powerful right hook, both aimed into the exact same spot.

This time, the barrier went from solid wall to sizable dent to gaping hole, signaling its own destruction with a satisfying 'snap!'. Yet, again, the wind reshaped itself at the point of impact: two mangled bars that 'straightened' themselves in real time.

"Oh no, you don't!"

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[Dreamer Aspect: THE SECOND DAO—PALM OF EMPOWERMENT]

Zacko's brass knuckles also rearranged themselves, flattening into purple sheets that covered each of his palms. He then grabbed hold of both bars and halted their repairs. Muscles bulged and veins popped as the NINEFOLD master put his body/weapon to the task of pulling apart a pair of prison bars.

"Hurry!" Zacko shouted, voice strained with effort. "Can't hold on for much longer!"

The prisoner didn't need to be told twice. The 'hole' Zacko had punched out also had the effect of disrupting the flow of air inside the cell. Serac found that she could finally move her arms and legs, just enough to 'swim' against the currents and push her towards the exit.

First her hands, then her head, then her whole torso. It really was like that time Zacko had squeezed his way out of the Aviary, except Serac had to take care not to 'touch' any part of the cell. To that end, she used her friend's sturdy frame for purchase, as she all but pulled herself into Zacko.

But that was when a loud 'crack!' went off just behind her. The [Abyssal Plate]'s [Durability] had run its course! Both of Zacko's gauntlets lost their jade-green glimmer at once, as they crumbled into brittle powder.

The rescuer was forced to take his hands off the windy bars, lest he fall victim to their repellent property. But he'd been prepared for the contingency. He changed tack immediately, grabbing Serac by the waist and yanking her out like an oversized carrot.

[77!]

The 'hole' in the windy barrier closed rapidly, taking a final bite out of Serac's trailing foot. Another chunk out of what was already a low HP total, but it was a small price to pay for freedom.

Serac and Zacko fell onto the floor in a tangled heap, both of them laughing maniacally at the sheer absurdity of it all. It took them a (literally) hot minute to get over their shared, feverish gaiety, but an impatient tsk brought at least one of them back down to earth.

"We better hurry!" Serac jumped up and instinctively reached for her holster. A jolt of alarm ran through her as she was reminded of her missing REVOLVER, but she reined in her emotions enough to say, "That funky business you mentioned earlier… Maybe this is our best chance to get what we came to Krongard for, while the whole Realm is in crisis mode. We can't waste any more time being stuck inside a cave/sauna!"

"No argument there," Zacko said as he got too got to his feet—but a little shakily at that. "Where to next? I assume the Hubstation, seeing as how we're both desperately in need of reconstitution. But it won't be easy, what with Hilde and the Kronvakt crawling all over the place."

"A necessary risk," Trippy offered his two क. "Whatever challenge awaits you next, you can't hope to overcome it with a grand total of 106 HP between the two of you."

Both Zacko and Trippy were right, of course, but Serac took a moment to consider the problem. Was there really no way to mitigate their risk—or perhaps even an 'alternative method' to get their missing HP back? Pretjord was, after all, a Realm of rich possibilities.

Indeed, a possible solution had been right under and next to her all this time. The Realmtree Dew. Fresh from the source and utterly unrefined, but that, in Serac's laysoul mind, was what made it a promising prospect.

"Call me crazy, but should we try taking a sip from that?" She pointed to one of the receptacles attached to the tree-inside-a-tree. "That thing is literally Loha's fountain of youth, and it's also how Renate makes her medicine for Inge. And because it hasn't been cooked, brewed, or refined into a 'consumable item', maybe it works outside the restrictions around [Synthesis]?"

Serac had fully expected to be called crazy and shouted down, especially by the ever level-headed Trippy. To her surprise, however, both of her companions voiced their prompt support.

"Oddly enough, it follows a certain kind of logic," according to the Special Guidance Protocol. "Compared to the other ingredients found in Pretjord, the Realmtree Dew is clearly in its own unique class. I wouldn't be shocked to learn that it contains magical properties, even in its rawest form."

"I'm happy to give it a try." A shrug-borne endorsement from Zacko. "Might heal us, might knock us out, might do nothing. At any rate, I don't think the risk is any greater than us sneaking our way back to the Hubstation."

And that was that. Gunslinger and pugilist shuffled their way over to the tree, where Serac pulled loose one of the receptacles (with no apologies to its owner!).

Up close, the raw Realmtree Dew gave off a distinct, minty-green glow. It had a somewhat viscous, almost honey-like consistency, which did give Serac pause as she imagined its labored passage through her throat. But she wasn't about to back out of her own suggestion, so she took a big gulp and passed it off to Zacko.

Serac's first reaction was one of overwhelming regret. The thing was bitter as all get-out—a brutal assault on a hell bumpkin's relatively underdeveloped taste buds. There is no way this is what a 'healing item' is meant to taste like! But, as it turned out, the opinion wasn't shared by a soul who hailed from several Realms up.

"Phooey!" Zacko exlaimed, scrunching up his face in disgust. "Now that's the most medicine-like thing I've tasted in a hot minute!"

In this case, the Manusya's instincts were correct. For even as Serac tried to spit away the taste of the Realmtree Dew, its effects revealed themselves through Pathsight.

[HP: 1,176/1,176]

[MP: 108/108]

[Cartridge: 6|62]

A full heal! Even [Cartridge] had filled back up to its maximum, despite the fact REVOLVER wasn't physically on Serac's person.

The only parameter that hadn't healed was [Satiety]. In fact, if Serac weren't mistaken, her [Satiety] had gone down, from 30 to 25. Strange. In a Realm that was all about eating for sustenance, did the very milk from its world-tree not count as 'food'?

But if it wasn't food, how would Serac explain the [Hunger] that had suddenly grabbed hold of her? Without realizing what she was doing, she reached over and wrested the tub full of the Realmtree Dew back from Zacko (meeting palpable resistance from the Manusya as she did). She then stared at the minty-green liquid—so revoltingly viscous, so harrowingly bitter, and so mouthwateringly enticing.

One more sip, Serac thought vaguely, with a mind that wasn't entirely her own. I just haven't had enough, that's all. One more sip, and that should take care of my [Hun—

That was when Zacko's hand—bare again after having lost its gauntlet—swiped down and knocked the tub out of Serac's grasp. The Realmtree Dew spilled out and, for a moment, stained the floor green. But only for a moment, before it faded and seeped back into the roots of the tree-inside-a-tree.

Serac gasped, first in real anger at Zacko, then in alarm as she realized what had happened. The Realmtree Dew had worked its magic on her, alright, so much so that it'd left her wanting more and more.

"It worked," Zacko said grimly, his eyes glowing with Pathsight, "but something tells me we should never do that again."

Serac couldn't agree more. But she also couldn't be too upset at herself for having taken the risk. For she'd drunk deep from Pretjord's well, and its primordial milk—at least for now—had granted her the strength to fight on—to take on the entire Realm if need be.

By hook and crook, Serac had lived to walk her Path a little further. And now, it was time to complete her greatest comeback.

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