Rocks and dirt fly as a vortex of particles bursts from the impact zone. The shield cracks open, and my hammer slams into the man''s wide-open mouth, instantly removing his lower jaw.
Shock and excitement jolt through me. I quickly pull back my hammer, my hands coming out of the crack in the shield with the jaw still attached.
“Ew. Gross.”
I quickly shake it off and look at the enemy. His tongue dangles, and it seems that I’ve ripped his neck artery too. In complete shock, he stares at me through the crack in the shield.
Blood starts spurting from his face. This whole horrendous scene is quickly shut off in front of my eyes as the shield starts to self-heal, relocating particles to fill in the hole.
But not for long.
After a few moments, it starts to crumble. Layers of mass it was made of are slowly dripping, thinning the outer layer more and more.
The wielder of the shield power is losing his life force with each of his last heartbeats. Every time the blood spurts, the spurt is weaker.
I can count his last heartbeats with those squirts.
The shield is slowly crumbling. I simply stay there and observe. My morbid curiosity is growing stronger and stronger.
Did I just get almost completely used to the gore?
Not feeling any pain or nothing at all. Overwhelmed by the tremendous events, the corner of my mouth raises on its own. Small laughs escape my mouth, and I shake a little, then adjust my step to avoid losing my balance and tripping.
Mike gazes over the backside of the dying enemy and peeks around the right to check on me. The shield almost completely disintegrates, and he finally sees me, looking directly into my eyes, confused.
What is this? Admiration or jealousy? Thoughts flash before my eyes after looking into his.
No, it''s fear.
What is he thinking? That I’ve lost my mind and he’s next?
After a brief look, he notices my sanity. I saved myself from another death. I saved us. This was a pure shot in the dark. Zero chance, yet still, luck was on my side!
The Exiled One finally falls on his side, next to the pile of dirt that was providing his magical cover a few moments ago.
With his last breath, two notifications follow. Two *Dings*, and a big red progress bar flashes before my eyes with text:
Total amount of malevolence has decreased.
But the bar is fully filled with red substance. Same as the health bar of that statue that killed me before.
Gosh. I need to stop reliving that memory.
Now, what’s that look? My eyes land on Mike''s after staring off at the notification. He seems terrified.
I look at my arms. Bloody mess. But I still don’t feel any pain. My arms and my weapon are fully covered in blood.
But it’s not the blood of the enemy—it’s my own, I realize.
I lose my grip right away and let the hammer fall to the ground. My wrists are shaking with occasional twitches. Blood drips from underneath my fingernails.
The sensation slowly rises, and all I can feel is the burning pain in the upper part of my body. I’m overheated, and my head spins.
It must’ve been the blood loss. As I inhale and exhale deeply, my arms slowly shrink, and the mass shifts towards my lower body, reallocating itself.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.I smell the raw, boiling blood, and the sight of the disfigured, jawless head is not pleasant to look at.
Raising my eyes again, I look at Mike.
“Cough. You alright?” I ask him.
He straightens up his bloody, bruised back and looks me in the eye.
“You look like shit.”
“Cough.” I grin and lose my breath due to my extremely dry mouth.
He then turns immediately to Astrid, who is already standing up and dusting her dirty dress.
I feel a slight relief as she seems to be unharmed. Covered in ash, she presses her fingers against her head and does a little massage. She must have hit her head when she got pinned, more than once.
Mike jumps close to her, and both of them start to observe and treat each other''s wounds. He touches her hair and tries to dust away the dirt. She observes his bruised back, full of scratches and deep marks from the rope.
I decide to collect my weapon, but I must kneel and open my inventory first. The distance from me grabbing the hammer to the panel must be as close as possible.
My arms are hanging there freely. I cannot pump them, not even slightly. They are completely strained.
That headache, it could make me faint if I lose any more blood.
Due to the extreme heat radiating from the smoldering forest, the blood is drying up, and I don’t dare to wipe it or even touch it. I deliberately move closer to the couple and away from the corpse.
“God! What I would give for rain right now.” I open the conversation lightly.
“Dear lord. Markus!” Astrid exclaims, looking at me. She leans over, approaching me with a worried expression. She touches my forearm with both hands, pressing slightly, then hisses and releases them.
“How can they be so hot? They’re burning!” she says. “We need to get you cooled down.”
“But what about the fires and that tower?” I ask worriedly and gulp.
“Sssh. We can return here anytime.”
She takes out her water bottle and pours it over my arms and cracked lips. I feel uncomfortable; Mike is definitely hating the extra care she’s giving. But I can’t hold my water bottle, so I have to accept the help.
The dried blood doesn’t come off, and my arms cool only a little. Meanwhile, Mike carefully puts his shirt back on, hissing from the pain. He looks for a way out.
“The wind is gone, and so is the smoke. The forest must’ve been dry to burn so fast,” he observes, pointing toward a possible exit.
<hr>
Astrid walks behind me, and Mike walks in front. My arms wave like rags in the wind. As we approach the entrance, I feel the heat radiating from the fire’s remains. Bright orange embers are scattered everywhere.
“What if the river dried up?” I ask, exhausted.
“What if it stopped the fires?” Astrid replies, her fiery red hair glowing against the charred backdrop. She keeps moving forward.
Mike walks cautiously, and we try to step where he steps. The tension is palpable. They’re eager to ask what happened back there, how I did it all, but they’re holding back.
After a few minutes of carefully navigating the glowing embers and ash, I hear the stream. What a relief.
“You were right,” Mike says, turning to Astrid.
The stream protected itself and some of the nearby flora. There’s still green moss and grass, at least a bit.
The forest is almost gone, with smoldering remains all around. I rush and kneel in the middle of our small river, against the current, and dip my arms right in.
“Oh god,” I exhale in relief.
The cold water is almost orgasmic. It flows around me, cooling my arms down and finally washing away the blood. I blink slowly, utterly surprised. My forearms and hands are scarred, covered in ugly stretch marks. It must be the skin.
Since I went with strength. All in.
"Maybe endurance could have prevented this?" I mutter to myself. I have so many questions.
They refill their bottles, and Astrid tries to clean up Mike''s wounds on his back.
“Ouch. Tssschk.”
“Don’t be a baby, Mikey,” she retorts, wiping his wounds with her handkerchief.
I open my stats panel, ready to invest my two points into endurance. But I stop.
Picking up a small sharp pebble from the riverbed, I press it against the unscarred skin on my arm. I push it in to see how deep it goes before I feel significant pain. I repeat this a few times to remember the feeling.
“Stats. All to endurance,” I command quietly, then repeat my test with the pebble.
It did harden. I knew it! Endurance affects the skin!
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 36.6613%; background-color: rgba(52, 73, 94, 1)" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Markus Hale</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">foreigner</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">level 59</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Strength</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">59</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">Focus [Bonus Skill]</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Agility</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">3</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Willpower</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">4</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Endurance</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">6</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
Astrid and Mike turn their attention to me, waiting for answers.
Should I tell them everything that happened?