Over the past several hours, Percy had learned a lot more about the dynamic between his species and the natives of this world.
While they were prohibited from touching him for any reason, he wasnât. He had approached and tapped the villagers many times over, always eliciting a smile from them. They seemed to see his presence as a good luck charm, treating him like a guest of honour â no, a sacred creature even.
âA bit weird but I could get used to it.â
In any case, this only made his life easier. Between their overt friendliness and the fact he could survive on nothing but the brown fog, Percy was free to float around the village and observe it to his heartâs content.
Their understanding of magic was as poor as expected. They appeared to possess the same common affinities he was used to, although he hadnât seen them cast anything more complex than a Crude spell. He also had no idea if they could be born with rare or composite affinities. Less than 1% of the population had them back on Remior. His sample size here was too small.
Either way, Percy could see how they survived in such a hostile environment. Even though heâd spotted several Green beasts on the way to the village, such a large group of Yellow and Orange mages shouldnât have much trouble taking care of themselves.
He sighed.
âI suppose itâs time to leave.â
As relaxing as it was floating around and being worshipped, Percy was confident there was nothing to gain here. He was about to wave the villagers farewell, when some commotion drew his attention.
âNo harm in checking it out before I go.â
Flying above the crowd, he saw a distraught father carrying his unconscious daughter in his arms. She looked to be in her mid-teens, although Percy wasnât sure how well his pre-conceived notions about aging translated to this place.
More importantly, the girl was afflicted with the worst instance of the disease heâd seen yet, her Yellow core seemingly on the verge of dying out. The man hurriedly brought her to one of the largest huts, before kneeling by the entrance. He then spoke in an anxious tone, probably pleading with somebody.
âOk, colour me intrigued.â
Percy wanted to watch how the natives mitigated the poison. Whatever they did was clearly nothing more than a half-measure, as none of them were in perfect condition. Still, heâd be lying if he said he wasnât curious.
Someone walked out of the house. An old lady. She was only at Orange, but her core was among the healthiest heâd seen, despite her age. She held two small bowls â carved out of bone presumably. Leaving one on the ground, she tilted the girlâs head up with her free hand, before placing the other bowl under her nose. A green liquid was swirling inside, emanating thick smoke of the same colour.
Some of it entered the teenâs nostrils, as Percy paid closer attention, using both his regular sight and Mana Sense. Nothing changed in the girlâs core, but she soon creased her brow as if in pain, before opening her eyes weakly a few moments later.
âThatâs not the cure. It was just to wake her up.â
The old lady picked up the second bowl again. This one contained a fine cyan powder. She spoke a few words to the girl, seemingly explaining something as she pointed first to the bowl and then to her stomach. Next, she gestured to a man in the crowd, who manifested a few drops of water above the powder.
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Nodding, the girl picked up the bowl, mixing the contents into paste with her fingers before swallowing it. What followed made Percyâs eyes widen. He saw the mana flow from the girlâs core to her stomach and then back, much like what he did on Remior whenever he used an elixir.
âBut thatâs not what this is.â
The purpose of the paste was very different. Every time it washed over the core, the latter regained some of its lustre. The change was minute, almost imperceptible. Percy would have certainly missed it if he wasnât actively looking for it. Even several minutes later, after she was done, the girlâs situation had barely improved. Still, the tension on her forehead seemed to ease slightly. She was also able to stand, albeit with her fatherâs support.
âThey canât do anything to remove the poison, but they can mend some of the damage.â
The father and daughter both bowed their heads to the old lady, as the former said something in a sombre tone. She didnât reply, but she made a gesture with her hand Percy didnât recognize, before returning to her hut. It didnât take long for the rest of the crowd to disperse.
âNow what do I do?â
Percy was reconsidering his decision to leave. Strictly speaking, all of this was irrelevant to him. The brown fog wasnât something they had to worry about back home. Furthermore, the effect of the cyan powder was quite underwhelming. He couldnât figure out what it did, nor did he know if it could be used for anything else. But that was exactly what made him want to learn more. This was the first thing the natives did he didnât fully understand.
âI must at least find out where they get it from.â
Having made up his mind, he descended next to the old ladyâs hut, peeking inside. It was a little creepy spying into her home like that, but he doubted sheâd take offense. The woman was sitting on a piece of stone roughly shaped like a cube, sipping some orange broth from a cup. As expected, she only gave him a smile upon noticing him, not bothered by his intrusion in the slightest.
âIf only I could fit through the doorâŠâ
Being larger than the rest of his kin, Percyâs host was as tall as one of the adult villagers. However, he was much wider than them, his frame closer to a bearâs than a catâs. Shrugging, he plopped down, taking a seat on the ground outside. He nearly rolled on his back too, just barely managing to grab the stone wall to keep himself upright.
The old lady failed to stifle her laughter at his antics, choking on her soup as some came out of her nose. Percy rolled his eyes, but internally suppressed a chuckle of his own. He knew he looked ridiculous.
âAnyway, Iâll stay here until I see where she gets the cyan powder from.â
Feeling a little peckish, he took a couple deep breaths, greedily sucking all the brown fog he could, savouring its flavour. A few minutes later, the air inside the hut already looked cleaner, as the old lady bowed her head in appreciation. She said something Percy didnât understand, although he did recognise some of the words of gratitude the girlâs father had spoken earlier.
âAh right. I almost forgot I can help them like this.â
Percy made an odd expression. In theory, nothing stopped the locals from kidnapping a few of the furballs to lock in their houses. It wouldnât fix everything, but they could at least improve their quality of life that way. Would these people rather die than disrespect his kin?
âWell, I can do whatever the hell I want.â
Getting up, he took another deep breath before exhaling downward, taking off. A few minutes later he returned to the village with two of his younger relatives in tow. The creatures didnât even struggle as he threw the first in the old ladyâs hut, before locating the sick girlâs house and tossing the second one in there.
Percy ignored the villagers cheering him on as he ascended again, repeating his actions a few more times. Only when he had stuffed a furball in each hut did he return to his spot by the old ladyâs entrance, clumsily sitting down again.
More people surrounded him, eager to express their thanks. However, it wasnât their gratitude he wanted. Sadly, he didnât understand their language and he suspected he couldnât speak it anyway. His rotund frame made it difficult for him to relay his request via gestures too. Furthermore, it probably didnât help he was immune to the poison, thus having no reason to be interested in its remedy.
âIâll have to be patient until they show me what I need by themselvesâŠâ
Luckily, he didnât have to wait for long.