Chapter 8 : Achievement: First Party Member

In and out of consciousness Oz dozed. Drifting back when some sort of thin broth dripped past her chapped lips, a tasteless gel like texture. But it kept her hydrated as the fever raged.

Perhaps the worst migraine of her life thundered through her head, half mad from the heat boiling in her blood. Any small touch of the frigid air outside, her body seized up painfully tight. Caught between boiling and freezing, all Oz could do was tumble back into a restless daze.

Perhaps this was hell itself, a punishment for the crime of merely wanting to survive.

Demons stabbed at the infected and swollen slash of her eye. It felt as if she were a tomato, tossed in a boil to have its skin peeled off for soup. More of the flavorless broth dripped past her lips, the soft voice replaced by a deep soothing hum.

The weight off her chest sloshed off with each removal of soaked furs and leather. A wet slap of sweat soaked fur hitting the floor woke her from the dreamless rest. Her eye snapped open in shock of the clear sound.

Hours had finally slipped by. The fever was gone?

[Reward : 10 Bonus Stat Points] 

The dialog box seemed to hum in delight within her vision, Oz frowned as she shook her head. She would deal with that later. She had more pressing matters since there was a stranger beside her.

In her vision was a hunched over form, leaning slightly as they rung out the heavy pelt. Drops of liquid ran off, hopefully into a bucket of some sort. She shifted, the pile of sweat inducing blankets gone. Instead she was in a soft and very modest shift, lace scratched at her chin. Only the tips of her fingers and toes could be seen.

"W...here?" She croaked out.

The hunched figure stood back up, a pair of sparkling gray eyes met hers. White hair draped elegantly over his long ears. Silky strands half haphazardly thrown up in a falling bun. He, at least she thought it was a guy, was gorgeous. Deep set eyes lined with thick lashes, high cheekbones, a striking jaw, his ears were pointed out nearly to the tips of his shoulders. The man was dressed rather exotically, in a long sleeved soft blue and cream tunic covered in fantastical golden embroidery with matching fluffy pants covered in black embroidery. But what shocked her the most was the faintly blue, purple, or was it lavender tint to his skin.

The words he said made no sense to her, she tried to follow his soft looking lips as he spoke. Full of whistles, clicks and what sounded like singing. To her it sounded beautiful, but nonsensible. The faintest stubble lined his jaw, now she worried.

'How long have I been here?' Oz thought in a panic and tried to get out of bed. She had to get back! The world spun as the stranger gently pushed her back down, his hands frosty against the warmth of her skin.

"Sorry...what?" She repeated, holding her throbbing head. The man paused before holding a hand to his chest.

"Ah, common then." He spoke clearly, "You are in the territory of the Black Ice Slates, traveler. You collapsed and were brought here by one of my forward scouts. They found you surrounded by Heatroot berries. Fool, those are highly poisonous eaten raw."

"Oh. That explains the blood then. And you are? Thank you." Oz breathed a sigh of relief as a warm cup of what smelled like coffee was placed into her hand. The mug was rustic and pear shaped, the bottom fatter than the rim. It sat comfortably in her shaking palm as she took a much needed drink. She cared little about the hotter then comfortable liquid as it flushed the taste of fever from her mouth. Her bare toes sunk into the lush furry rug underneath.

"Prince Nahern, I am on a hunting journey currently on the fringes of our land." Said the stranger, a hand placed to his chest.

Oz sputtered on the coffee-like drink, "Prince?"

Nahern crossed his arms over his chest, a cocky smile warmed his already handsome face. "And you are? We haven't seen a lone human in quite some time. Usually your kind are within the ruins in clusters."

She allowed him to take the now half empty mug from her hands, she fidgeted slightly with the insertion lace of the shift. Allowing air flow but modesty. It was then she looked down at herself, the usual pudge and rolls that dieting and constant work couldn't touch were half melted off. Her fingers flew to her stomach then to her thighs, the skin soft and jiggly as it hadn't been for years now.

"Traveler?" Nahern's voice was full of concern. Oz's head snapped up and she gulped.

"Kasper. Ozel Kasper, Rank D Hunter, Black Locus Guild."

At those words, Nahern's eyes narrowed. The feathery white lashes tight as he glared. The bloodlust that came off him made her tremble, the same familiar murderous aura from the door came to mind. She cowered against the wall. He blinked, then his gaze softened. "Forgive me. You are not like the other humans. You don't stink of corruption and death."

"There are others?" She hated sounding so excited.

"Please, I need to get home! If I don't I'll lose everything." Oz reached out to grab Nahern's arm, her fingers brushing the exposed skin of his wrist. She was surprised of the warm pulse that lingered there.

The prince's skin all but flushed magenta, his ears perked straight up making the delicate golden jewelry chime and rustle. He flushed but didn't look away even as his skin burned. Oz blinked in surprise. She pulled back nervously to rub her arm. She looked around to try and find her clothes, fumbling to stand up.

"How long have I been here, I only have a few days..."

"I'm not sure if your time, but two sun cycles." Nahern stated, enough to make her heart drop. Oz flopped back down onto the bed, legs wobbling. Two days? Two whole days?

'No, no no, no no no. Wait, maybe time flows differently! Dungeons are slower, maybe I have time.' She thought, fighting the rising panic spiral. Her hand flew to her empty wrist and looked around for her watch. She needed the watch!

Nahern tilted his head, "What is it you are fussing over?"

"I need my watch, it was on my wrist here." She ran her fingers over the empty spot, feeling naked without it. Water proof, crash proof, hunters all wore their Guild watch (or shackle as some called it) to keep their location and health updated. It allowed the Guild to keep an eye on their workers, making it easier to inform next of kin of any death or damages. Like any smart watch it kept her phone close, allowing notifications at the brush of a finger. Some hunters just relied on their watches, leaving phones behind so as not to be damaged. Oz kept hers in a shockproof case, liking her music as she worked.

Nahern said another set of nonsense. From the fur lined door flap, a woman came in. The same long ears and shimmering skin. She was dressed more casually, in a simple tunic dress and puffy harem pants. Nahern motioned to Oz then to his wrist. The maid's ears wiggled before she quickly headed to one of the curved walls, sorting through the tall baskets, returning with one. Kneeling down she opened the basket, revealing her bag and pile of clothes. She said more nonsense words, chirping like a bird as she held up the pile of clothes with a small basket holding her smaller items.

"The maids cleaned and mended the damages to your things the best they could. All your belongings were placed here when they bathed and patched your wounds." Nahern translated.

Ozel grabbed the watch from the pile, the first thing she latched over her wrist. The moment the sensor touched her skin, the screen flashed to life. Immediately it flashed, taking her measurements. Next she grabbed her grandfather's ring and put the necklace back over her neck, feeling slightly better with the familiar weight on her neck.

Nahern spoke to the maid, she quickly bowed and left the basket by the bed. The prince then crossed his long legs and eyed her. "Why do you wish to return so quickly, Kasper?"

Ozel eyed him as she flicked through the settings. The battery ran off her own mana, there was no wi-fi (of course) but it still sent out a SOS signal. She was alive, she refused to let them just write her off so easily.

"I need to get home. If a hunter is considered dead, their belongings go to their next of kin and their Guild." Oz grabbed the dry socks from the pile. In her panic the woman didn't notice how easily her joints moved. Able to tuck her leg close to her chest up on the bed as she pulled the thick wool up and over her knee where once before the sock barely went over her calf.

The flexibility wasn't due to a lack of subcutaneous fat, it was a sudden influx of muscle development. Her hips felt far more loose and flexible, as did her knees. Like years of inflammation had been melted away. The Effects from decades of hard labor reset.

"I can't let them take my home, either my asshole family or the guild." She grumbled. "That's why I need to get back today. Within..." She tapped the watch's face and cursed at the time reflected back to her.

"Six hours." Oz scrubbed her face with her hands, groaning miserably. "How am I going to get back in time?" She hissed when her fingers brushed her unbandaged eye, still sore and tender to the touch.

Nahern frowned at her words, "Like a rabbit in a snare." He clicked his tongue before his hands snapped out.

Lightning quick as he held both her wrist and chin, forcing Oz to look him in the eye. His touch was like ice, but his frosty gray eyes were deceptively warm as they started into hers. An odd shiver ran down Oz's spine at the touch, his eyes capturing hers entirely. An odd sense of embarrassment came over her as she licked her chapped lips. Heat burning her cheeks watching those beautiful eyes tracking the movement.

"Then perhaps we can assist one another, Hunter Kasper."