Barely had the mental command to open the reward left Elizabeth's mind when a pulsing, violet radiance flared before her eyes, accompanied by the familiar, mechanical chime in her head:
[Opening Purple Box...]
A fraction of a second later, the space before her shimmered with a fresh sequence of crisp, glowing script:
[Congratulations! You have obtained the skill: Heal!]
“Whoa… That actually sounds like a pretty potent ability, especially for a starting point in a world this dangerous,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath, a pleasant warmth washing over her palms.
“Tell me, System, is this some hidden beginner's luck modifier for the first roll, or did I just hit the jackpot?”
[Affirmative. The Host's initial draw included a hidden luck modifier. The skill 'Heal' is among the strongest and most versatile support abilities available within the Purple-tier reward pool.]
Hearing such a straightforward confirmation, Elizabeth chuckled softly. With mounting curiosity and careful deliberation, she brought up the detailed breakdown of her newly acquired restorative power.
[Heal: Consumes spiritual energy to instantly stimulate cellular vitality and circulation around a wound, drastically accelerating the natural process of tissue mending, sealing lacerations, and regenerating damaged organs.]
“Right on cue for a textbook Heal skill,” she commented with a faint smirk, flexing her fingers.
“Pretty much what I expected.”
A moment later, however, her gaze drifted down to catch the 'Level 1' tag sitting right beside the skill name. Furrowing her brow slightly, Elizabeth inquired in her mind:
System, how many levels does a skill have in total, and how do I rank them up to the next tier?
[When a given skill's proficiency reaches its maximum threshold through repeated usage or designated points, the skill may advance to the next level. Standard skills possess a total of ten proficiency levels.]
Right after this explanation, another brief prompt materialized in her peripheral vision:
[Would the Host like to view her full Status Panel at this time?]
Yes, open Status, she confirmed without hesitation.
An azure, translucent interface unfolded before her eyes, laying out her current, raw parameters:
[Status]
Name: Elizabeth
Profession: Author
Stamina: 0.4 (Ordinary person: 1)
Strength: 0.5 (Ordinary person: 1)
Agility: 0.7 (Ordinary person: 1)
Spiritual Energy: 2.1 (Ordinary person: 1)
Skills:
Heal - lvl 1 (0/100)
Seeing the figures laid out in black and white, Elizabeth grimaced with a crooked smile, scratching her nose as she took in the situation with a dose of dry humor:
“Well, isn't that lovely… Stat-wise, I'm physically weaker than an average, sedentary human adult, not to mention the colossal beasts and mutated warriors running around here…” She shook her head, but her eyes quickly caught the lines below.
“At least my spiritual energy is sitting above two points - more than double that of an ordinary person.”
Despite that silver lining, taking another look at her pitifully low stamina of 0.4 and strength of 0.5 made her slump back onto the soft bed of straw, releasing a long, defeated sigh.
“Looks like if I truly want to survive out here without dropping dead at the first stray breeze, I need to get my act together and start training this body on a regular basis…”
Elizabeth sighed heavily, feeling with absolute certainty that her carefree, comfortable days sitting behind a computer screen were gone for good.
***
A heavy, suffocating gloom hung over the interior of the grand leather pavilion. The elderly Sharu sat on his bed of pelts, murmuring quietly with the newly appointed Chief, Neria, who stood before him with her hands clenched tightly against her belt.
“Sharu, can that child, Elizabeth, truly become our new Sharu?” Neria asked with deep concern etched into her face, gazing into the fading light of the old man's eyes.
From time immemorial, the Sharu had served as the sole mental and spiritual pillar of the entire tribe - the sacred anchor binding their mortal flesh to the divine will of the Totem. In the harsh realities of this savage land, a tribe could afford to lose seasoned warriors or anyone else, but they could never, under any circumstances, survive without a Sharu.
And now, that most sacred and pivotal mantle was poised to be passed into the hands of a complete stranger with an unknown lineage, scavenged half-dead from the woods.
For Neria, who had assumed the mantle of Chieftain merely fourteen days ago amid sheer catastrophe, the psychological weight was nearly unbearable - especially since the previous Chief had perished heroically in the bloody, decisive clash against the invaders of the Green Snake Tribe fifteen days prior.
“We no longer have the luxury to be picky, Neria. In this era, children blessed with the innate talent to grasp spiritual mysteries and become a Sharu are far too scarce,” the Sharu shook his white-haired head slowly, letting out a heavy, weary sigh laden with bone-deep exhaustion.
“You know full well my aged vessel will not endure more than a few days. If we do not find and consecrate a Successor immediately, there will be no one left to perform the Totem Awakening Ceremony for our youth. Should that happen, I will lack the courage to face our sacred Ancestors when I pass into the other side.”
“Sharu, all of this came to pass solely because of our weakness and lack of martial prowess…”
Neria’s brow furrowed tightly, her hardened eyes glistening with unshed tears as she rasped through clenched fists:
“It is our fault you are pushed to the brink of death, standing with one foot in the grave.”
Had it not been for the old Sharu's desperate intervention fifteen days ago during the onslaught by the Green Snake Tribe, the battered remnants of their people would never have escaped, let alone relocated the survivors of the Blood Fire Tribe to this safer territory.
It was precisely from unleashing his profound arts in that catastrophic clash that the Sharu had sustained devastating internal injuries, draining the last dregs of his vitality. Past eighty winters of age, his ravaged body simply could no longer sustain life.
“My dear child, do not torment yourself over a past we cannot alter. How could I have stood idly on the hill, watching my own children march to slaughter and perish in battle?”
The Sharu gently raised a trembling, bony hand and offered a soothing pat to Neria’s shoulder. Turning his gaze toward the flap fluttering in the draft, he let out a melancholy sigh:
“We have lost our sacred Ancestral Lands. Once my breath ceases, the survival of the entire Tribe will rest squarely upon your shoulders.”
“We will take back our lost Ancestral Lands without fail. I will avenge every fallen warrior,” Neria declared with unyielding resolve.
“Before you plot bloody vengeance, the tribe must first heal, secure sustenance, and above all, multiply - our numbers have dwindled to perilous depths. You must bring forth far more healthy children, for our ranks of battle-ready Totem Warriors are critically thin. You are a powerful Solaria; you can easily take another strong wife or a new husband to birth mighty offspring,” the elder counseled.
Noticing the fierce, stubborn glint in Neria's eyes that still hungered for immediate retribution, the Sharu added with profound gravity:
“You are now the full-fledged Chief bearing the fate of our tribe. You can no longer afford to be blindly reckless as you were when you were a mere hunter. In every passing second, your mind must be set on the survival of our people above all else.”
“I understand, Sharu. I will mend my ways and master my wrath,” Neria promised swiftly, dipping her gaze for a brief moment.
“That child, Elizabeth, undeniably possesses a rare, innate talent worthy of a true Sharu. During the trial, she not only withstood the spiritual communion effortlessly, but she even beheld the Totem Herself amidst the flames. If she is guided patiently through the rituals, she will awaken the dormant Totem within far more of our young ones, and under her spiritual guidance, our wounded tribe will surely prosper once more,” the Sharu explained, his mind drifting back to the soul-link test.
To even dream of becoming a true Sharu in this realm, an initiate had to possess naturally formidable spiritual energy, untainted perception, and an intellect keen enough to forge and sustain a delicate, mystical bond with the divine Totem. Only upon such a foundation could one safely cultivate and expand deeper spiritual arts.
“Yes, you are entirely right,” Neria answered with profound deference, bowing her head.
At that exact moment, a careful, respectful voice called out from just beyond the entrance:
“Sharu, Mother, may I enter?”
“Ah, Valeria, come in, child,” the Sharu beckoned with a warm, gentle tone, leaning his back against the furs.
Valeria hurriedly adjusted her tight leather garments before lifting the heavy hide flap and stepping into the stifling tent, immediately bowing low with reverence before the elder.
Neria turned toward her, her tone snapping back to a crisp, commanding cadence:
“Has Elizabeth settled in and begun resting?”
“Yes. I have arranged temporary lodging for her in my own tent, as you commanded,” Valeria answered succinctly, keeping her gaze lowered.
“Did you manage to glean anything specific about her along the way?” Neria lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, stepping closer to her daughter.
“Unfortunately, no. I got the distinct impression there are many matters and secrets she refuses to speak of,” Valeria said with a troubled frown. “Earlier, while I was showing her around and detailing the Tribe's circumstances, I slipped a few probing questions about her past into the conversation. Every single one was deftly ignored or brushed aside by steering the subject back to camp matters.”
“Sharu, what if she is actually an undercover spy dispatched by the Green Snake Tribe to finish us off from within?” Neria voiced her lingering wartime paranoia, unable to shed her deep-seated mistrust of outsiders.
“That child is certainly far from simple, but I caution you, Neria - do not pry into her past or dig at her secrets,” the elder warned, his frail voice carrying an unprecedented weight.
From the moment she had been brought before him, taking in her mannerisms, her cautious stride, and above all, her pristine, unblemished skin, the Sharu had recognized that Elizabeth’s origins were exceptionally rare and wholly alien to these wild lands.
A crude, savage force like the Green Snake Tribe simply possessed no one with such refined poise and unique aura to dispatch as an infiltrator.
“Yet we must be certain into whose hands we are entrusting the clan's future…” Neria attempted to protest, torn by doubt.
“An overly aggressive interrogation from you will only make her feel cornered and alienated. In this critical hour, what we desperately need is a new Sharu, not the unraveling of her private affairs,” the Sharu waved his hand dismissively to cut short further speculation, continuing in a calm tone:
“I observed her soul during the rite; she does not strike me as malicious or vengeful. In our current state, that is more than enough.”
The old man deliberately kept silent regarding one crucial anomaly his spiritual sight had perceived - in terms of aura, Elizabeth appeared unnaturally 'pure,' reflecting a bloodline so pristine that it was as if her entire race had never once bonded with any earthly beast totem since the dawn of time.
“I understand your will, Sharu,” Neria went silent for a long moment, turning his words over in her mind before making a solemn vow:
“I will treat and honor her with the exact same gravity and devotion I have shown you over all these years.”
“Good. In the precarious days ahead, you must shield Elizabeth from all harm at any cost, for without a functional Sharu, our Tribe will simply cease to exist upon this earth,” the old man impressed upon her.
“Understood. I will see to her safety personally,” Neria answered in a deep, resolute voice.
“If the opportunity arises in the near future, ensure that Elizabeth enters into a union and bears offspring. Children born of a Sharu's bloodline typically inherit immense spiritual talent; in this manner, we can cultivate future generations of Sharu and secure our survival,” the elder added.
A shadow of ancient grief flickered across the corners of his eyes as he recalled his own daughter - a gifted Sharu who had been murdered decades ago in a treacherous ambush orchestrated by a rival tribe, dealing a devastating blow to the Blood Fire Tribe's rise.
“I see your intention, Sharu. Starting tomorrow, I will personally instruct Valeria to stay close to her, assist her in all things, and spend as much time with her as possible,” Neria replied earnestly, casting a knowing glance at her daughter, who was a fellow Solaria just like herself.