Book 1 Chapter 31 Ambush in the manor
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The moon hung like a silver sickle over the orchards of Slow Turtle Town, casting long, skeletal shadows across the tall grass where the standoff had reached its breaking point. Rowan felt the familiar, cold hum of the system in the back of his mind. He wasn't a warrior—not really—but as the five mercenaries fanned out, their eyes glinting with the prospect of a bounty, he realized that "herbalism" in this world was increasingly becoming a synonym for "survival."
"Kill the stray!" the leader barked.
The two mercenaries in the rear leveled their crossbows. Twang-twang! Rowan didn't think; he reacted. His Level 2 stats weren't superhuman, but they provided a clarity of motion that felt like the world had slowed down just a fraction. He threw himself into a lateral roll, the bolts thudding into the soft earth exactly where his feet had been a second prior.
"Rowan!" Hana screamed, her own sword coming up to parry a thrust from a mercenary wielding a short spear.
Rowan scrambled to his feet. He gripped the mundane iron sword tightly and stood on defense.
The mercenary leader, the man with the scarred nose, lunged at Rowan with a heavy mace. "You're fast, but not fast enough!"
Rowan didn't meet the blow head-on. He applied the Raging Tiger Claw principles—specifically the footwork technique, which does not require Qi to execute. He stepped into the man's shadow, the mace whistling past his ear with enough force to crush a skull. With a sharp, practiced motion, Rowan brought the hilt of his iron sword down onto the leader's forearm.
Crack.
The leader roared, his mace slipping from a numbed hand.
Meanwhile, Hana was a whirlwind of steel. Despite her exhaustion, her training as the Mayor's daughter and one of the top swordsmen in the town showed. She parried the spearman's thrust and followed through with a kick to his knee, sending him sprawling. Hajin kept the second swordsman at bay with desperate, wide swings that prioritized keeping the man at a distance.
Hana glanced toward Rowan, expecting to see him overwhelmed. Instead, she saw the "clumsy herbalist" weave between two mercenaries, his movements precise and economical.
"He's... he's actually fighting?" she muttered, her eyes wide. She watched him deflect a sword stroke with his iron shield, then pivot to deliver a stinging slap with the flat of his blade across a mercenary's face.
Seeing the battle, Hana frowned and muttered, "It seems that he didn't want to kill them."
Rowan, of course, didn't want them dead. Not yet. He needed them to run so that he could have breathable air. If the two forces attacked with long and short range, it would be hard for their group to escape unscathed. He looked at the system grid and reached into his pouch and pulled out two Thorns. Then quickly equip them.
As the two crossbowmen reloaded, Rowan showed a smirk on his face. Those who will shoot him will die.
Twang-Twang!
As two bolts hit Rowan's body it only bounce off after hitting the inner armor. However, this hit triggered the Thorns and their effect.
The man gasped, his leg buckling instantly. "Poison?! He's using poisoned needles?!"
While the other crossbowman falls on the ground unmoving, unknown if he is still alive.
The mercenary leader, clutching his broken arm, looked at his fallen men and then at Rowan, who was standing in a low, defensive crouch that looked suspiciously like a professional martial stance.
"Fall back!" the leader hissed. "We weren't told that there was a hidden master with them! We'll get the others!"
The five mercenaries, seeing their leader injured and their archers compromised, didn't hesitate. They vanished into the dark shadows of the orchard, their heavy boots thumping against the earth as they retreated toward the main gatehouse.
Rowan let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The Battle System status glowing from his vision. His HP was intact, and no damage had shown.
Hana and Hajin ran to him. Hana grabbed his shoulder, turning him around to inspect him for wounds. "Rowan, where in the name of the Rising Phoenix did you learn to fight like that? You disarmed a mercenary leader with a hilt-strike!"
Rowan quickly shoved the iron sword into his Travel bag, making sure the "system" didn't accidentally swallow it while they were looking. "Adrenaline? And, uh, as an alchemist, you have to know anatomy. If you know where the nerves are to heal them, you know where they are to... un-heal them."
Hana stared at him, her expression a mix of suspicion and newfound respect. "We'll talk about your 'un-healing' later. We need to move. They're going to bring reinforcements."
"The tunnel," Hajin urged, his face pale. "Follow me!"
They sprinted through the rows of peach trees until they reached a small, unassuming stone well-head near the base of the town's secondary wall. It was covered in thick, thorny briars that looked like they hadn't been disturbed in decades. Hajin reached into a hidden crevice in the stone and pulled a lever. With a grinding sound of stone on stone, a portion of the well-floor slid away, revealing a dark, narrow staircase.
"Only my family knows this exists," Hana whispered as they descended. "It was built by the founding Mayor as a last resort."
The tunnel was damp and smelled of ancient dust. They moved in silence, the only light coming from the small candle Rowan had lit. The walls were tight, forcing them to walk in single file. Hana led the way, her hand white-knuckled on her sword hilt.
After what felt like an eternity of winding through the town's foundations, they reached a heavy iron-bound door at the end of the passage.
"This should lead directly into the cellar of the 'Old Manor'—my family's private retreat," Hana whispered. She pressed her ear to the wood. Silence.
She pushed the door open.
The light of several lanterns suddenly flared, blinding them. As Rowan's eyes adjusted, he felt his stomach drop.
Waiting for them in the vaulted stone cellar were seven men. They were better armed than the patrol in the orchard, wearing polished breastplates and carrying heavy, military-grade crossbows already leveled at the trio's chests.
Standing in the center was a man Hana and Hajin recognized—one of Hong Tong's personal bodyguards, a brute named Goro.
"How?" Hana gasped, her voice trembling. "How did you know about this path?"
Goro grinned, a yellow-toothed expression that held no warmth. "Your family's secrets weren't as secret as you thought, Lady Hana. When we were... 'questioning' your father about the town's treasury, he was surprisingly stubborn. But after a few hours with Master Hong's specialists, he started talking about all sorts of things. Tunnels, emergency exits... old stories."
Hana's face went deathly pale. "My father... what did you do to him?"
Goro chuckled, a wet, rattling sound. "The Mayor? Let's just say he's no longer in any condition to be signing decrees. He's resting in the dungeons. Master Hong says he'll be a great guest of honor at the execution—once we've caught his precious children, of course."
"You monster!" Hana roared. Her heart was filled with worry about her father. She could not help but grab her chest with indignation and anger.
The grief and rage were too much. Without waiting for a plan, without checking the crossbowmen, Hana lunged forward.
"Miss Kang, no! Stay back!" Rowan yelled, reaching out to grab her cloak, but she was too fast.
The cellar erupted into chaos. Thrum! Thrum! Thrum! Three crossbow bolts hissed through the air. Hana swerved, her sword flashing as she deflected one, but the cellar was too cramped for her usual agility. A bolt grazed her shoulder, and another tore into her thigh. She stumbled, a cry of pain escaping her lips, but she didn't stop. She slammed into the front line of mercenaries, her blade a blur of desperate vengeance.
Rowan felt a surge of cold fury. He didn't care about his "mortal" cover anymore. He reached into his sackcloth and pulled out the Wooden sword and the Stone Knife. Without hesitation, he quickly quips them in the bag's grid.
Hostile Entities Detected.
Engaging Automatic Battle System.
[Han Rowan (Level 2). HP: 3/3/3/3/3/3. Qi: 5: Status: Normal.]
Rowan moved like a shadow. He didn't engage the front line; he targeted the crossbowmen. He vaulted over a wine rack, his boots kicking a bottle of aged pear brandy into the face of a mercenary. As the man sputtered, Rowan landed and drove the iron sword into the man's shoulder.
Meanwhile, the Stone Knife and Wooden Sword began their dance.
[Stone Knife: +3 Damage. Target Crippled.]
[Iron Sword: +3 Damage: Target Eliminated.]
Hajin, seeing his sister bleeding, finally found his courage. He let out a primal scream and ran straight. He did not even look at what was happening around him, and soon arrived and tackled Goro, the two of them crashing into a pile of empty crates.
The battle was a frantic, bloody mess of close-quarters combat. The cellar was filled with the smell of spilled wine, iron, and sweat. Rowan was everywhere at once. He used the Wooden Shield to bash a mercenary against a stone pillar, then spun around to kick a sword out of another's hand.
Meanwhile, two silver would flash around and kill a few mercenaries every few seconds.
He saw a mercenary raising a blade over the fallen Hana. Rowan didn't think—he lunged, the system as if knowing his thought sent the Stone Knife trailing a faint, ethereal glow as the system calculated the strike. He parried the heavy sword with the iron sword—a feat that should have been impossible for a mortal—and shoved his shoulder into the man's chest.
The mercenary flew back five feet, crashing into the iron door they had just entered.
"We have to escape! Get out!" Goro yelled, realizing the "herbalist" was carving through his men like a butcher. "Back to the manor! Sound the alarm!"
The remaining mercenaries, battered and terrified by the sheer speed of Rowan's movements and some unknown force, scrambled up the stairs leading to the upper floors of the manor. Goro, clutching a bleeding ear where Hajin had bitten him, followed close behind.
The cellar went quiet, save for the heavy, ragged breathing of the three survivors.
"Hana!" Hajin scrambled to his sister's side.
Hana was slumped against a wine vat, her face grey. Blood was soaking through her silk trousers and her tunic. She was shaking, her eyes unfocused. "Father... they... they hurt him..."
"Don't move," Rowan said, his voice firm and commanding.
He reached into his Pouch. A few days ago, before they had left the town to search for the siblings, Rowan had spent his last few hours in the Green Herb shop's laboratory. He had used the Springwater vial—which seemed to have a rejuvenating quality—along with a few crushed medicinal herbs to create the miraculous salve.
He pulled out a small, ceramic jar. The contents smelled of fresh rain and crushed mint.
"This is going to sting," Rowan warned.
He applied the salve to the wound on her thigh first. As the green paste touched the torn flesh, a faint steam rose from the wound. Hana gasped, her back arching, but then her expression softened.
The bleeding stopped almost instantly. The jagged edges of the wound began to knit together before their very eyes.
"What... what is that?" Hajin whispered, watching the miracle. "I've never seen a salve work that fast."
"It's an old recipe from Elder Jing," Rowan lied, though this time his hands were shaking from the adrenaline. He applied the salve to her shoulder as well. "It won't fix everything, but it'll stop the infection and get you back on your feet."
He handed two more jars to Hajin. "Keep these. If we get separated, use them on any deep cuts. Don't waste it on scratches."
Hana looked up at Rowan, her eyes clearing. The pain was still there, but the mortal lethargy of blood loss was receding. "Mister Rowan... you're not just an alchemist… are you? You're a cultivator… right?"
Rowan froze. "You— How did you come up with such an absurd idea?"
Hajin's eyes were wide open while looking at Rowan. A cultivator is not someone who can casually see in the town, but as the mayor's children, they knew that such people existed.
Rowan tried to brush off the strange notion. He knew that he was too impulsive to use the system weapon at that time, but he had no choice. He gritted his teeth and decided to lie through if the woman asked for more information.
Rowan sighed, helping her to her feet. "We can trade life stories later. Right now, Goro is sounding the alarm. This manor is abandoned, but it won't be for long. We need to find a place to hide and plan how to get to your father."
Hana nodded, leaning on Hajin for support. "The manor isn't entirely abandoned. There's a priest's hole in the library, behind the family portrait. If we can get there, we can hide until nightfall."
They climbed the cellar stairs cautiously. The manor above was a ghost of its former glory. Dust motes danced in the moonlight streaming through cracked windows. Curtains hung in tatters, and the fine furniture was covered in grey sheets. It was a haunting reminder of what Hong Tong's greed had done to the town's prosperity. It seems that the manor has experienced the deadliness of the battlefield.
They reached the library—a grand room with oak shelves that reached the ceiling. Hana pointed to a large painting of a stern-looking man in a Mayor's robe.
"Hajin, the left corner. Press the rose."
Hajin obeyed, and with a soft click, the portrait swung outward, revealing a cramped, wood-lined room barely big enough for three people. It was filled with old ledger books and a small, dusty desk.
They scrambled inside and pulled the portrait shut just as the sound of heavy boots and shouting echoed through the hallway outside.
"Find them!" Goro's voice boomed. "They couldn't have gone far! Check every room! If you find the herbalist, kill him on sight—don't let him get close!"
Inside the priest's hole, the three of them sat in the suffocating darkness, listening to the mercenaries tear the manor apart.
Rowan sat on the floor, his back against the cold wood. He checked his inventory one last time.
[Exp: 155/200] [Coins: 5] [Status: Normal (Slightly Fatigued)]
He looked at Hana and Hajin. They were terrified, wounded, and their world was falling apart. He was just a Level 2 mortal with a bunch of weird items and a system that treated life like a game. But as he looked at the resolve in Hana's eyes, Rowan knew he couldn't just run away.
Slow Turtle Town was his home now. And it was time to show Hong Tong that even a "mortal" herbalist could brew a very bitter tea for his enemies.
"Hana," Rowan whispered in the dark. "Tell me everything about the dungeon layout. We're going to get your father out."
The shadows in the room seemed to deepen, but for the first time since the ambush, there was a glimmer of hope in the silence.