Rebirth-Transcending All Beings-Chapter 26: Recovery [3]

Before Vergil knew it, the bed had molded to him, like an overbearing lover refusing to leave.

One leg dangled of the edge and his face burried into the pillow.

His eyes flickered open at the crack of dawn, and held out just as long to yawn and back into the quiet, aching void of sleep.

The pain in his back was a persistent.

He didn’t eat.

He didn’t think.

He just existed.

[Congratulations! You are currently doing your best impression of a corpse. Keep it up!]

Vergil let out a muffled groan. Burying himself even deeper into the mattress.

"Shut up... and let me sleep" He moaned.

[Noted.]

---

The clearing behind Elvira’s college pulsed with ambient energy. The grass had long since been scorched from repeated trials.

The trees surrounding them kept a respectful distance. Eleanor stood barefoot on the earth covered in grass.

Her palms flickering threads of electricity.

The spell was called Volt Lance–a Tier 1 piercing spell that was designed to travel in a linear line.

It demanded control, speed and most importantly, restraint.

And naturally, it fought with her at every step.

"You’re still messing up the flow," Elvira called from the perch. "You’re not throwing a tantrum, but inviting it to dance."

"I’m not choking it," Eleanor spoke as sweat trickled down her face. "I’m trying to keep it from blowing my damn hand off."

Elvira only sighed. "Then deal with it."

The magic flared. Sharper and wilder–lashing outward with a crackling shriek. As it carved a shallow trench into the earth several feet away.

Eleanor flinched, hissing through her teeth as she shook out her stinging fingers.

Elvira gave a tired chuckle. "Congratulations. You missed the tree and the target. Impressive."

"I wasn’t aiming for either."

"Ah. Deliberate failure. A bold strategy."

Eleanor scowled, but didn’t retort. She tried again–this time focusing not on brute control, but on channeling.

Letting the mana flow like water over stone, guiding it rather than forcing it. The sparks grew tighter. Quieter.

A lance of condensed lightning burst forward–thin, precise–and embedded itself in the bark of a distant tree with a satisfying crack.

Elvira grunted in approval. "Better. Still sloppy, but better. You’re starting to listen."

"To the lightning?"

"No. To me."

"...Unfortunate." 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

---

Vergil still hadn’t moved.

The day had long sinced passed. He stared at the wooden ceiling above, half-expecting it to collapse–just to add to the mood.

[Status: Inactive. Mental activity: low. Physical activity: non-existent. Sarcasm levels: building.]

He rolled over before putting the pillow on his head.

--

The next day arrived swiftly.

Vergil managed to sit up this time’albeit slowly.

His joints crackled and his muscles flared

The soreness remained, but it had faded from a screaming agony to a grumpy mutter.

Progress.

Tiny, annoying, unwanted progress.

Then–

[DING]

Vergil blinked as a faint interface shimmered in the upper corner of his vision.

’Not another joke.’

[Lazy bastard]

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "You’re a system, not a sarcastic roommate."

[I can be both. Multitasking is free you know]

He stood, pacing the room in slow, deliberate circles. Testing his movement. His balance. Still sore–but his body moved. That was something.

He reached for his pouch at the bottom of bed, reaching within.

He pulled out eight Astraylth Crystals, each glowing faintly with a star like light. A symptom of ambient energy in a crystallised form.

He waited until Eleanor returned from her evening practice, hair damp with sweat, and knuckles burnt from the recoil.

Without a word, he held the bundle out to her.

She blinked. "...What’s this?"

"Astraylth stones from our last hunt," he muttered. "Should be enough to push your mana circle closer to second refinement."

She stared at him. Then at the crystals. Then back.

"I know what they are. We only got twelve from that last subjugation. Don’t you need to give them to the guild?"

"You’re worth more than just sitting at Tier One. Four is more than enough. Tomorrow I should be alright to move."

A pause.

Then–she took them. Quietly.

"...Thank you."

---

That night, just as sleep began to creep in, the door eased open once more.

Eleanor stepped inside with quiet and deliberate steps. Her new clothes were more practical.

Dark leather tunic and sleeves pushed up to the elbows. She finally had clothes that fit her.

She didn’t say a word as she crossed the room and unwrapped a new rapier on the table.

Slender. Elegant. Deadly.

She didn’t look at him, and just walked towards the bed, pulled the covers over herself, and settling into the silence.

Vergil stared at the rapier in the dark.

"...At least one of us is productive."

[Would you like to level up your sulking skill? You’re only 20 XP away.]

"Fuck you." He sighed

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, he’d get out of bed for real.

---

The morning sunlight crept gently into the shutters as Vergil sat up in bed. His body no longer screaming in protest. Although it ached faintly. A reminder of the hell he had been through

His back throbbed dully where the wound had closed, manageable now, but still a sore spot.

He rolled his neck and cracked his fingers. Exhaling as he pushed himself up.

"I can move again," he muttered. "More or less. I should really find a recovery skill–heal that back wound properly. It’s a damn miracle that bastard’s sword missed my spine."

A soft chime echoed in his mind.

The System Interface flickered to life.

[Finally got off your lazy ass.]

Vergil groaned. "You just can’t shut up, can you?"

[I could. But where’s the fun in that?]

After rinsing himself and slipping into a fresh shirt he had Eleanor buy. He stepped back out into town.

The streets were as lively as before, the aroma of bread was something he dearly missed.

He made his way to Willow & Stitch, the tailor located just off the town square. The small bell chiming as he stepped inside.

"How may I help you?" the shopkeeper asked without looking up.

"Something practical to wear please."

Fifteen minutes later. Vergil had paid 2 silver coins, before stepping back out, now clad in a fitted charcoal gray tunic with leather padding along the shoulder and sides.

Along with dark, flexible trousers and study black boots.

[Adventurer’s Field Garb]

Category: Light Armor F+

Defense: +4

Description: A well-fitted charcoal-gray tunic reinforced with leather padding, paired with durable travelwear. Offering both flexibility and moderate protection.]

[Look at you! Almost like a real adventurer now. Just don’t get blood on it in the first five minutes.]

"Not bad," Vergil muttered.

He headed down a nearby alley and checking for any prying eyes before using the inventory. He fastened his sword at his hip and slung the shield acroos his back.

"Alright," he said quietly. "Let’s get to work."

---

The Adventurers’ Guild was alive with its usual chaos–the many boots clanging against the stone, voices rising in argument and laughter as they discussed quests.

Parchment fluttered as adventurers swapped notices on the mission boards, and the occasional shout of a guild officer rang throughout the building.

At the front desk stood Elina.That usual spark of quiet amusement tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Well, look at you," she said, eyes flicking over his new outfit. "Didn’t take you for the stylish type."

Vergil smirked. "Upgrade. Figured I’d stop looking like a half-dead vagrant."

"Smart move." She flipped through a stack of bounty scrolls. "What brings you in?"

"I’m here to turn in my last subjugation." He placed four Astralyth Crystals onto the counter–each faintly pulsing with residual magic.

Elina inspected them with a glance and nodded. "Solid haul. That’s five silver." She slid the pouch toward him.

He pocketed it with a nod. "Also looking for another E-rank mission. Preferably something involving healing traits."

She raised an eyebrow. "That’s oddly specific."

"Studying regenerative behavior," he said casually. "Low-risk target, high observation value."

"Huh." She rummaged for a moment, then handed over a slightly crumpled parchment. "Lucky you. Something’s been spotted near Mistwood Trail. Some locals have been severly injured, but it just keeps coming back. No fatalities–yet. Mostly nuisance reports."

His eyes scanned the page. One name stood out:

Verdant Goremire.

"Sounds like just what I need."

"Try not to get eaten," Elina said, amused.

"No promises."