Chapter 1134
The peacekeepers were probably fine. The Alliance had done their best to make sure they only accepted people who swore true oaths of protection, but people could change their minds. Then there was the issue that Abder couldn’t hear and he looked like he’d just been in a battle to the death. Which was true, but still rather suspicious. At least he had pants.
From what Abder knew, Nthanda could focus her healing on specific parts of her body. She could do a lot of things, actually. But he didn’t know how to do any of that, so he was going to need to work without hearing for a while. Paper would be good. He might need to go home and get some, because… would The Gathering let him in looking like he was? He didn’t really look like him right now. Normally he had hair. And non-charcoal skin. His voice might not even sound the same.
Cultivators might still be able to tell. It wasn’t like there were a ton of advanced body temperers. However, home was his best bet as long as nobody was watching it. And why would they be? He was dead. Or at least stuck outside, if they thought he would survive. He hadn’t really believed in himself there, so he would be kind of pleased if the Twisting Spike thought he’d live.
He got a lot of weird looks on the streets, but that was probably good. Nobody was running or panicking. There wasn’t violence everywhere. Presumably if there were sounds of battle, people would be paying attention to that. Abder also didn’t feel any of the huge bursts of energy that he would expect.
He still moved quickly, his feet aching on the bare stone. The good news was that pain meant there was enough of him left that his nerves were in decent condition. The bad news was that Abder didn’t like pain.
Running seemed like it would be the correct choice at first, but he avoided it. With no way to clear up any misunderstandings, he didn’t want to look like some kind of weirdo running away from a crime. So his feet kept a strong rhythm with long, quick steps. In only a dozen minutes he’d found his neighborhood, and then he was home shortly afterwards.
Without his key, because that had probably melted. The door was locked, which was good. He crushed the handle in his grip, then tore out the bits. It wasn’t meant to be that secure. There would just be a pulse to wake him up if things were disturbed.
The first thing he grabbed were some pills to accelerate healing and replenish what blood he’d lost early on. Then he ate everything in his pantry that didn’t need to be cooked. It tasted like nothing but pain, hurt to swallow, and then he felt bloated at the end. But he’d quickly digest what was left, and he could already feel it infusing into his body. Hopefully he’d be more functional in a few hours.
He grabbed paper, wrote a few things he thought he’d have to say, threw on some new clothes that at least looked like his, and took quick steps towards The Gathering. Someone came to greet him, based on their expression- though they didn’t recognize him. He pointed towards some things on his paper, then remembered he could still sort of talk. The papers were mostly for other people to write responses.