Chapter 32: Two Surprises Following the Illness

"Ah—choo!"

Health Status: Poor (Squalid Environment↓, Sufficient Nutrition↑, Physically and Mentally Active↑↑, Afflicted by Illness↓↓↓)

The hearth in the kitchen burned with hot coals, and the kettle hissed with boiling water. There were no visitors today, so the mage, having returned from his trek across the waves, could quietly savor the consequences of his impulsiveness at home.

Though he could fly and fight, this body was still made of flesh and blood. Carrying heavy loads under the pressure of Lin Bo was one thing—he could pass that off as exercise—but spending an entire afternoon drenched in the rain had ultimately caused him to collapse in a spectacular fashion.

Lin Bo poured a cup of hot water, wrapped a wool blanket around himself, and sipped slowly. Every swallow felt like swallowing blades; his throat burned with pain. After a few more sips, clear mucus began to drip from his congested nostrils, and he hurriedly reached for a handkerchief to blow his nose.

"Cough, cough."

They say a physician cannot heal himself, but in truth, one could still manage such minor ailments.

Lin Bo selected some medicinal herbs he had gathered over the past two days and tossed them into the kettle to simmer. He heated a few iron needles over the flame of the whale-oil lamp and, once they cooled, performed acupuncture on himself.

After drinking the hot water and finishing the acupuncture, the chill within him eased slightly, though he still felt far from well. His body lacked strength, and his joints remained stiff and sluggish.

Night had fallen; it was time to light the lamp. The decoction in the kettle was still brewing—there was no rushing that.

Lin Bo donned his mask and whispered his True Name. His body lacked the strength, but that did not matter; he would use the power of his incantations to drive it.

Floating three inches above the ground, he drifted slowly to the third-floor machine room. The mage shoved the whale-oil canister into the generator unit. Even this simple act of bending and exerting force left a fine layer of sweat on his forehead.

Next came the heavy-duty task: the rotating mechanism of the Fresnel lens. The manual winding crank for the grooves was enough to build massive arms on any young lad; old Tim’s immense strength was gained right here.

Lin Bo gripped the crank and turned it three or four times, but his vision blurred. His overburdened body truly threatened to go on strike.

He paused where he stood to catch his breath.

Behind him, the metallic friction of machinery accompanied crisp footsteps as Iron Guard One approached the lighthouse keeper, its facial lens fixed on the crank in Lin Bo’s hand.

He let go and stepped aside, watching with interest as Iron Guard One slowly extended its arm, grasped the crank, and, mimicking the night watchman, began to turn it round and round.

A hoarse, windy sound escaped from beneath Lin Bo’s mask as he praised the robot, calling it "very sensible."

In truth, he had long intended to upgrade this rotating device to an automatic winder, but with so many complex matters at hand, he had relegated that plan to a very low priority.

Earlier, Lin Bo had never expected to fall ill so suddenly; he had been careless. Perhaps it was because old Tim, regardless of the season or the state of his health, had always insisted on fulfilling his duties for so many years.

Not only the people of Stone Tower Town, but even he himself had grown accustomed to the lighthouse’s punctual operation, as if accidents could never occur here. This inertia of life offered no real guarantee. Just as old Tim would die, he, too, could fall ill.

"Cough—"

Lin Bo supervised Iron Guard One’s voluntary labor, and once it had wound the mechanism fully, he immediately stopped it from turning the crank further.

In a sense, he already had the automatic winding device he wanted. However, having Iron Guard One perform such a task felt like a primitive human grinding a microchip into an arrowhead to use as a weapon—a bit of a waste of talent.

Returning to the kitchen on the first floor, Lin Bo huddled in his blanket, waiting for the decoction to thicken.

He was still very cold. The chill lingered in his body, and he began to shiver slightly—a spontaneous action by his body to generate warmth.

"(True Word) Copper Moon."

Lin Bo took control of his body again. It was not to further exploit his poor flesh and blood, but a sudden inspiration while ill: he decided to help his body vibrate to rapidly raise his core temperature, hoping this would help disperse the cold within.

"Vibration, vibration... how should I do it?"

The limbs controlled by the Art of True Word Manipulation were as calm and steady as Lin Bo’s current state of mind; there was not a single tremor.

He first tried to shake his limbs rapidly and lightly, but no matter what he did, he could not increase the frequency. The result was like a dog shaking off water—though his body did warm up slightly, his exhaustion intensified severely.

This wouldn't do.

Lin Bo let his thoughts wander. He remembered back in school, extending a plastic ruler off the edge of a desk and flicking it; it would vibrate at such a high frequency that a ghost image appeared at the end, producing a "buzzing" sound.

Vibration and sound were essentially the same thing.

Lin Bo drew a breath into his mouth, vibrated his vocal cords, and let out a light, long "hum." The sound resonated in his oral and nasal cavities, spreading to his skull and extending downward into his chest.

He slowly sensed this vibration, imagining the sound coursing through his entire body.

The body, governed by the Art of True Word Manipulation, began to vibrate at a high frequency in time with this hum—from head to toe, from hair to fingernails. Waves of numbness pulsed back from his nerve endings, and the trembling muscles generated a massive amount of heat, baking his internal organs with the heat that was born within.

His previously stiff joints felt as if they had been oiled, and the cold accumulated in his meridians crumbled section by section, finally gathering in his stomach. With one long burp, he expelled it all.

Relief.

*Ding—*

[Occupational action detected, skill check successful!]

[Occupational skill activated: Art of True Word Manipulation - Blaze]

Art of True Word Manipulation - Blaze: Lv1 (0/1000) Basic True Word Art; by speaking True Words, one commands the vibration and heating of all things.

*Heavenly fire is constant and bright, its virtue is glorious—"Proverbs"*

The cold in Lin Bo's body was gone, as if he had just recovered from a serious illness. His body still felt a bit frail and his spirit listless, but as he looked at the newly activated occupational skill on his player panel, he raised a hand to rub his temples.

He hadn't expected such an unexpected gain from being sick.

The proficiency bar for the Art of True Word Manipulation - Blaze was also nothing to scoff at. Lin Bo couldn't help but imagine how desperate his training schedule would become if he gained a few more such occupational skills.

Tonight, he planned to rest. Reviewing his lessons casually would suffice; his physical condition was poor, and he lacked the drive to study.

The decoction was ready. He poured it into a bowl and inhaled the scent of herbs—pungent yet sweet. He didn't rush to drink, instead blowing on it slowly.

He watched the ripples on the surface of the decoction.

He couldn't help but recall his achievement from earlier today: a brand-new True Name word.

"(True Word) Ocean Wave."

Lin Bo looked at the still decoction. He knew, of course, that the medicine had a different True Name, but he was itching to test his new knowledge a bit more.

Inside the lighthouse, he could neither see the sea nor hear the waves through the curtain of rain. When this True Name was spoken, there was no physical response.

But the spell was cast successfully nonetheless.

Blue ocean waves surged from the floor beneath Lin Bo’s feet, making a splashing sound, and within moments, they flooded the first-floor floorboards. The waves engulfed the hearth, yet the fire continued to burn; they lashed against the table and chairs, yet the furniture remained unmoved.

Clearly, to the mage’s senses, his legs, submerged in the waves, felt the chill of the water. He reached out to scoop some up, but as the seawater drained through his fingers, his palms remained dry.

*Ding—*

[Occupational action detected, skill check successful!]

[Occupational skill activated: True Word Illusion]

True Word Illusion: Lv1 (0/1000) Basic True Word Art; by speaking the True Name, one creates an illusion out of thin air.

*Floating scenes of the world, appearing illusory yet not truly false—"Proverbs"*

Another occupational skill. Lin Bo patted his cheeks, deciding not to let his imagination run wild anymore. The shocks he had received tonight were quite enough.