~ Chapter 1: Rejuvenating the shriveled old prune (Part 2) ~
Show me his status. I ordered, and a window appeared before me, showing me a bunch of details about him.
[Name]: Tuberculus Firerage <Spouse of Yandrea>
[Strength]: 28 (436)
[Agility]: 2 (386)
[Intelligence]: 88 (806)
[Magic Energy]: 20 (4630)
[Magic Energy Regeneration]: 0.01 (5) points per second
Weak! He’s so weak! I shouted in my mind the moment I saw those pathetic stats.
Someone like him could barely reach floor 40 or 50, let alone 700.
I sighed and proceeded to heal his injuries. First of all, I checked what was wrong with him, if he had any disease, illness, or stuff like that. I wanted to remove any problem I could detect besides the fuzzy face and wrinkly bottom.
As soon as I confirmed where and what was damaged, I closed the status screen and gathered Magic Energy around his body. Like a child playing with clay, I began to repair his broken body and remove any ailments he had. The poison was the easiest part, then came his old age diseases, a magic affliction that stopped him from generating Magic Energy fast enough and all sort of other tweaks to his immune system.
Healing him was pretty much the same as creating an item, all I had to do was focus on what I wanted to create, let the magic flow and my subconscious do the rest. It was that simple. As for the result, the naked old man didn’t have a single scratch left on his body.
After I was done, I kept staring at him for a while, trying to think what was missing. Something felt terribly off, and I couldn’t tell what it was.
Argh! I can’t figure it out! I screamed after more than an hour had passed with nothing changing.
I was absolutely certain there was something there I was looking at, but I wasn’t ‘opening my eyes’ to see.
Thinking back about the other species, I suddenly remembered that the Reiss and Forglores adventurers were a bit different among each other. The same went for the ornak. Basically, some individuals became wrinkly as they aged, ruining their smooth appearance from when they were in the prime of their lives.
Up until then, I was never bothered with this strange aspect of organics, but then I realized that this might have been exactly what ticked me off about Tuberculus. In short, I didn’t like his wrinkly body.
Curious about this and wanting to know if it wasn’t some sort of disease I wasn’t aware about, I flew out of my Crystal Body and went to visit the only wrinkly humanoid among my guards. His name was Blorghar, and he was an ornak ravager, the strongest among his kind.
To find him was easy, he was sitting by a fire not far from my pyramid and talking with his son. I flew up next to them and listened in on their conversation for a moment. It sort of caught my attention.
“Son! When you take your woman, your arms need be firm and strong!” he said making a fist.
“Yes, father! Firm and strong! Me can do!” he nodded with a serious look in his eyes.
Is it mating season for the ornaks? I wondered.
“Foolish son, Rokiki! Stop using ‘me’! Use ‘I’! We not be savages! We know how to talk and write!” he corrected the boy, although, I found their broken language to be interesting and funny at times.
Just like Rokiki, Blorghar was an ornak of dark-red skin color. Their mates, however, were light-green. This extreme difference in skin color variation between males and females was a peculiar trait of their species. The other was their protuberant tusks on their upper jaws, which were used to make them look menacing and turn their meals into a slobbering mess. Speech was also particularly difficult because of this. They resumed to small words and simple sentences.
If I were to compare Blorghar with Tuberculus, the latter would win only in the overall number of wrinkles on his body. Brute strength was the ornak’s forte, making them perfect for the vanguard position in a battle. Their big frames and strong muscles turned them into real walls of flesh and bone who could take a great deal of punishment. On the other hand, Tuberculus looked like a shriveled green onion when compared to him. At the very least, he held a bit of magic, but it was far from what could be considered as useful against someone like Blorghar. Their levels were too far apart too.
“But father, I must ask.” Rokiki looked in his father’s eyes like a warrior about to challenge an enemy army, “Big bewbs or small bewbs?”
I nearly chocked when I heard him.
Seriously?! Ugh… men. I thought instinctively.
“Hm… Good question!” the old ornak nodded and leaned back, crossing his arms at his chest and closing his eyes.
Hey! Don’t think so seriously about it! I complained in my mind.
He then opened his eyes and with a serious tone of voice, he declared “Old and young say big is a man’s dream, but son, we also say that small means justice!”
Seriously? Big is a dream and small is justice? How does that even work?! I thought while raising an eyebrow at them, although… I didn’t really have any eyebrows or eyes in this form.
Somehow, I had the feeling these two stupid ornaks were mixing up their biological priorities with their own tastes. Then again, I was also feeling the urge to smack them both in the head with a lightning bolt… a very powerful lightning bolt.
Needless to say, I was in the ‘Big’ camp because of a very simple and easy to understand reason. The extra fat meant better cold resistance during the cold season. There was also the fact that the females with big chests were able to nurture and feed more than one baby, increasing their chances of survival in case their mothers suffered an injury or couldn’t breastfeed them at all.
Well, this was only available for mammals or mammal resembling species. At the very core of my preferences stood another thought: bigger bodies meant more Magic Energy for me, however, just being fat wasn’t going to cut it. Women, especially those of the Negvar Elves, for some reason, stored a lot more Magic Energy in their breasts than in any other part of their bodies, which explained why their queen was so well… endowed.
Why am I even debating breast sizes? I asked myself at one point.
After clearing my head, I approached Blorghar with a much more serious and important reason in mind.
With a fake cough, I interrupted their conversation.
“Huh? Who be there?” the two ornaks jumped up on their feet, weapons ready and looking around for the source of the noise, which was invisible and standing right in front of them.
“It is I, your Dungeon Lord!” I introduced myself with a self-important tone of voice.
“Lady Yandrea! Please forgive us! We not know!” the two dropped on their knees immediately.
“Relax. I have not come to punish you. I came here only to ask you a question, Blorghar!” I explained to calm them down.
“We listen! Oh, Great One!” replied the ornaks.
“Answer me this…” they gulped “Why do you have…” they gulped and looked at me with serious eyes”…a wrinkly bottom?” I spoke with a commanding tone of voice.
Upon hearing my words, they both looked at each other a bit confused. It was highly likely none of them expected me to ask such a weird thing.
“I confused? Maybe I not hear right, but Lady Yandrea asked why ornaks have wrinkly butts?” asked Blorghar, clearing out one ear of all that gathered up wax.
He could seriously make a candle with all of that.
“Pretty much, yes.” I shrugged.
“Erm…” he looked at his son and then back at me. “Wrinkles appear when ornaks grow old. It is a sign of aging. When they are a lot on one’s body, a young one knows that this one is not as strong and fast as he used to be. Age diminishes our strength and speed, but increases our wisdom and experience in life!” he replied proudly.
Indeed, Blorghar had the highest level among all the ornaks in my dungeon, but by far he wasn’t the oldest. My question, however, did receive an answer to my liking. From what I understood, wrinkles appeared as a sign to show others that their bodies have long since past the prime of their lives. This meant that Tuberculus looked like a dried prune because he was very old for a human. He wasn’t born with a furry face and wrinkly body, he gained them over time.
“Thank you, Blorghar, you may now return to your previous conversation.” I told him and then left.
When I returned to my Inner Mind, I already knew what had to be done. Surrounding Tuberculus’ naked body, I began to carefully control my Magic Energy and infuse it into his tissues. The spell I used wasn’t exactly a spell, but an advanced form of cellular healing. His genetic information was read by my magic and then I began to reverse the aging process of his body. Most of this was done instinctively because I had no idea how exactly to read his chromosomes. At most, I just felt when it was the right time to pull my Magic Energy in order to gain the required effect.
What I was looking for wasn’t only too make him young again, but also to make him immortal. I didn’t wish to see his wrinkly old bottom again. I also removed all that excess fur from his body, and tinkered with some other parts or his anatomy.
The downside of using this sort of technique was the fact that I consumed a lot of Magic Energy, and my regeneration wasn’t able to keep up with the pace. To be clear, the reason for this high consumption was also partially due to me failing one, two… maybe fourteen times until I figured out what exactly I had to change and where. Nonetheless, this turned out to be a very fun experiment. It was the most fun I had in the past century!
When I was finally done with this, the man standing before me was as handsome as an elf, with no fur on his body except for his scalp, strong muscles, no scars or weird spots on his skin, black hair without any gray strands intermixed, and a rejuvenated bone structure, including his chompers. To be honest, I debated if I wanted to add a pair of feline ears or not. He looked sort of cute with those.
Good! Now he looks like a normal creature! Yawn! I’m so tired… I can barely keep my eyes open… Maybe… maybe I’ll sleep for a bit? Take a short nap? Yeah… that sounds nice. I thought as I slowly drifted off to sleep.
There was nothing wrong with waiting until the following day, and I was certain Tuberculus was going to appreciate the many changes I made to his old, shriveled body.
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