"Hiss—!" Aegon gritted his teeth, cold sweat seeping from his forehead.
In this state, never mind exploring those eerie holes, even self-preservation was a problem.
Enduring the pain, he performed a quick self-examination.
His ribs stung but weren't broken, but his left leg gave off a sharp, bone-cracking pain with the slightest movement. Worst of all was the dull ache in his chest—there was no external bleeding, but internal injuries were likely unavoidable.
"Damn it..." he cursed under his breath, not knowing if he was cursing this hellish place, Corleone for putting him in this situation, or this damn fate.
Leaning back against a piece of rock protruding from the mud that felt relatively solid, Aegon panted heavily.
Cold, wet clothes clung to his skin, draining what little body heat he had left, causing him to start shivering uncontrollably.
He needed to know exactly how severe his injuries were.
"Right, don't I still have a system?"
When this thought popped up, Aegon himself was stunned for a moment.
To be honest, in the dozen or so years since he transmigrated, especially during these recent days of struggling on the line between life and death, this broken system had been utterly useless, aside from making its presence known at the very beginning and issuing a vague check-in task.
The golden arrow pointing the way was nothing but an eyesore that annoyed him whenever he tried to sneak around or focus. Once he had memorized the direction and approximate location of the check-in point, he had disabled its visual display.
As a result, at most life-and-death moments, he didn't even remember he had such a "cheat."
"A cheat? Heh, as long as it's not a built-in virus or a trial skin..." Aegon curled his lips in self-mockery, which tugged at the abrasions on his cheek, causing another burst of sharp pain.
But at this moment, the bone-shattering pain and the increasingly obvious cold made him desperately need a "diagnosis."
At least the status bar could tell him how many bones were broken and if there was internal bleeding, right? It was better than blind guessing.
He concentrated, trying to "call out" that crude system interface in his mind—an operation he hadn't done more than a few times in over a decade, making it quite unfamiliar.
Name: Aegon Targaryen
Strength: 20 (Strength remains despite severe injury, but the sharp pain in the left leg limits power output.)
Spirit: 67 (Perception is exceptionally keen, allowing one to clearly "feel" the pain and malice permeating this place.)
Agility: 20 (Reflexes are swift, but movement is severely hindered by the fractured leg.)
Physical Constitution: 23 (The dragon lord bloodline provides vitality beyond ordinary men, but a curse is resonating with the ruins.)
Current Status:
Moderate Fall Injury (Multiple contusions, fractured left lower leg)
Mild Hypothermia (Cold, wet clothing is draining body heat)
Ensnared by Curse (The souls consumed by blood and fire still curse the dragon lord bloodline that treads upon this land. Warning! You are very close to them. Do not get injured! Do not bleed! Do not let them find you!)
Available Gacha Pulls: 0
Current Check-in Location: Deep within the Valyrian Ruins (In Progress)
Aegon panted in the cold mud for a long time until his dizziness subsided slightly.
He couldn't stop; stopping meant waiting for death. He gritted his teeth and fumbled around, finding several relatively sturdy sticks in the wet mud, then laboriously unbuckled the leather armor belt at his waist.
He placed the thickest stick against the outside of his left calf and bound it tightly with torn strips of cloth and the leather belt.
Every time he tightened a strap, the sharp pain from the fracture made his vision go dark.
The simple splint was finished; though crude, it could at least stabilize the leg.
Using his long sword as a crutch, he endured the needle-like stabs in his left leg and the dull ache in his chest, "pulling" himself out of the mud inch by inch.
When he stood straight, the world spun again. He gripped the sword hilt until his knuckles turned white to barely stay upright.
"Phew... this hellish place," he cursed softly.
Outside it was hot as a furnace, but this underground was bone-chillingly cold and the humidity was stifling.
Under the dim light in the distance, there seemed to be an even larger expanse of dark water.
"In such a damp place, there must be more than one stagnant pool... Henry, Karl, I hope they also fell into a pool, and preferably a deep one."
He himself had fallen onto the shallow bank at the edge of the mud pit, and his flesh had absorbed the full impact.
Falling into deep water might have caused less suffering.
Earlier, to check his injuries, he had summoned that crude system panel for the first time in ages.
After confirming the fracture and internal injuries, he subconsciously reactivated the golden arrow pointing to the check-in spot, which had been hidden for a long time.
He was stunned by what he saw.
The light representing himself and the brilliant golden marker almost overlapped on the crude map. The marker was not far ahead to the side, within reach, seemingly separated only by rock layers or tunnels.
After going through life and death, the goal was actually within reach in such a dramatic fashion?
His heart skipped a beat, but caution immediately suppressed the excitement.
The bright red words "Ensnared by Curse" in the status bar were still flashing, and a new warning had appeared: "Warning! You are very close to them..."
"Them?"
"What are they?... The souls on the murals, or the unknown things crawling out of these giant holes?" The fact that the check-in point coincided with the source of danger was no coincidence; it felt more like bait.
But did he have a choice?
Staying here meant severe injury, hypothermia, lack of food and medicine, and the need to watch out for any surviving enemies.
For example, the Crows Eye who had also fallen; Aegon didn't dare naively imagine that Crows Eye had simply died from the fall.
And the "them" the system warned about?
It was death either way.
Heading to the check-in point was certainly dangerous, but that unknown "reward" might be the only variable he could grasp to break this deadlock.
"Must find the others first..." Aegon murmured softly.
Being alone and severely injured made moving here nearly impossible.
Leaning on his sword, he began to move extremely slowly and cautiously along the edge of the cage toward the general direction where he remembered Henry and Karl falling, while also keeping an eye on the golden light on the system map.
His body weight rested on his right leg and the sword hilt; every time the splint on his left leg lightly touched the ground, it brought a stabbing pain.
He kept his breathing extremely shallow, his eyes scanning the dim mud, puddles, scattered stones, and the deep, beast-like holes further away like a nocturnal animal.
The damp cold was rapidly sapping his body heat.
The system panel hung in the corner of his vision, the golden arrow trembling slightly, pointing into the dark depths that seemed within reach yet were fraught with danger.
Finding his companions and heading to the check-in site, every step was like walking on thin ice.
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn luffy1898