Chapter 54 — A Bloody Return

  [Danger Sensing] flared.

  Trusting his armor, Toren charged into the nearest high-level zoot, swinging. What came after happened almost too fast for him to follow with [Mana Sensing] and [Combat Awareness] even in the slowed time of [Flurry of Blows].

  His maul made contact, crushing a skull just before the alpha’s tail whipped around and smacked his legs out from under him, flipping him over. Letting the hammer swing backward over his head as he fell, he barely reached in time to smash into the ground an Ability-powered maw attempting to chomp his helmet from behind.

  A slicing pain flared in his leg as the mana-glowing claws of a lizard’s short arm raked upward through the weakly-armored underside of his knee, and he felt tendons snap free as he reflexively tensed, pulling up inside his leg.

  Dark skies and frostborn winds! he cursed, bringing. The. Hammer.

  An impact accompanied by crushing pain in his arm jerked him side to side, the alpha having gained hold of his upper arm. The armor’s enchantment and the steel plates were the only reason the alpha’s sharp teeth hadn’t bitten through, costing him the arm entirely.

  Its loss, Toren grimly sneered in victory as he swung the maul into its head using his off hand, [Flurry of Blows] and [Focus Rage] making the task of continually adjusting the maul’s arc almost trivial as the alpha contorted and continued to shake him, letting go too late to dodge.

  A quick backswing dispatched the remaining high-level lizard attempting to slice his temporarily exposed armpit like the other had done to his knee. Thankfully, the brigandine’s enchantment rebuffed the Ability-enhanced attack enough that the trio of slices were shallow and didn’t fully sever the artery.

  The nearby zoots froze silent at the sudden carnage as Toren’s perception of time resumed to normal and the gore splattered to the ground around him.

  He couldn’t stay down! Or stay where he was!

  The weak zoots weren’t much of a threat thus far, but the approaching patrol—of 4 now—was hurrying down the zoot-trails to investigate, and Toren wasn’t confident about fighting another alpha, injured as he was.

  First things first. He stayed careful not to lose focus on [Control Blood] keeping his blood from spraying out more than it already had as he rolled to his feet.

  Straightening his leg under his weight was excruciating. Fortunately, the front tendons needed for extending his knee were still intact. Combat ‘footwork’ would be impossible, but standing seemed doable.

  The remaining 6 weaker zoots were already clicking warnings to each other and began shying back, some climbing nearby trees to get further out of reach.

  Checking the range of motion on his crushed bicep and tricep, he shifted the maul back to his primary arm and drew on his [Intimidate] Skill to make his movements and manner seem more threatening, thumping the large two-handed hammer flat against his chest and smearing the splattered and dripping blood and gore across the front of his armor.

  He shambled forward, stomping down with his good leg and half-dragging the back one, growling out menacingly with each sharp pain. It didn’t take him long to reach where his bow had landed, thankfully unharmed. He did have a spare bowstring, but only one.

  Reaching down to pick the bow up, he lost his balance and almost tipped over until he belatedly realized that he was effectively a big bag of blood and [Control Blood] wasn’t limited to just flowing the stuff around.

  He was still working out the clumsiness of using [Control Blood] to drag and puppet himself and his injured leg when the patrol of four arrived with their alpha. Likely smelling his injured condition, the accompanying high-level lieutenant tested an Ability-enhanced go at him and paid the price.

  It was enough of a display for the new alpha to join the wait-him-out strategy of the weaker zoots already keeping him encircled from a distance.

  Between [Control Blood] and his bow in his off-hand propping him up when needed, he hobbled onto the raised road and the bridge, zoots pacing him and clicking or hissing but staying out of reach, avidly watching for him to weaken and stumble or collapse from bloodloss.

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  Leaving the zoot meat, crests, and cores behind was a waste, but maybe saberbeaks picking at the carcasses would distract enough zoots which would otherwise join the hunt, enough that he could safely make it back to the stead.

  “You smell like blood, Toren-,” was the rebuking greeting he received upon wearily re-entering the farmhouse before Emina looked up from the bubbling cauldron she was stirring and saw him use the bowstave to hobble.

  Both girls processing herbs at the table gasped, standing quick enough to almost knock their chairs over.

  Whatever Warnel’s wife was concocting didn’t smell much better, Toren grumbled to himself.

  “Laiya, help Toren to a chair,” Emina ordered, already grabbing a cloth and dunking it in a nearby bucket of water. “Were you followed?”

  “A few,” Toren grunted, shedding his pack and collapsing into the chair with Laiya’s assistance. “Just zoots. Not much else of worry nearby.”

  Emina frowned and looked to her youngest. “Falma, get your father and go around making sure all the claim stakes are full.”

  He unbuckled the loops for the satchel-shaped gathering basket and lifted it enough to slide onto the table, pushing some herbs out of the way, his helmet and gauntlets went next.

  “How bad?” the older woman asked as she helped a very worried looking Laiya undo the straps on his gear and armor.

  “Lamed the leg. Got me good. Might need surgery to heal it properly.”

  “S-surgery?” Laiya squeaked out with a tight voice, the blood that was getting on her hands making it hard to work the buckles. “Your Ability can’t heal it?”

  “Not easily, maybe not correctly.” Having rested a moment and no longer needing to puppet his leg, Toren repurposed his focus on [Control Blood] to try pulling the blood from their hands and his gear and clothes and was surprised at the ease with which it flowed into a ball to hover over his hand. Even the crusted blood flaked into ash-like flakes that crumbled and joined the flow. “Bowl?”

  “[Blood Magic]?” Laiya squeaked again, higher pitched this time.

  “Sort of?” he admitted. “Figure you can use this for potions or something. No need to waste it.”

  Though also wide-eyed at the almost casual display of magic, Emina had quickly grabbed a wooden bowl for him to release the blood into. “We can. If the mana density is high enough.”

  Suddenly being able to so easily manipulate mana outside his body when he had never been able to do it before with his [Hunter] Profession for all those years of trying was a strange feeling—he was unsure whether he should be ecstatic or upset.

  “Arms up.” As he raised his arms so they could pull the unclasped brigandine over his head, Emina let out a disapproving tut. “This cut under your arm?”

  “Healed,” he muffled out as they tugged the armor free of his arms and set it by the door.

  Emina returned and tugged at the gashes in his treated canvas pants, getting a better look at the injury while Laiya pulled off his other leg’s boot and unbuckled his leather-wrapped greave.

  “Is it safe to take the armor off the leg?” the older woman asked, poking lightly at the angry and swollen but knitting seams of red flesh visible through the rent fabric.

  That was a very good question. The muscles had enough blood and blood vessels in them that he could pull them closer together, but the cut tendons did not, and he could not quite make the severed ends meet.

  “Probably best to leave it in place until the severed tendons are stitched back together,” he decided. “You or Warnel could do it. Might improve the girls’ Profession and Ability options if they do it, though.”

  Emina eyed the injured leg, thinking deeply about something. “Warnel does have the [Mend Material] Ability. If he could evolve that to include living materials…”

  Then their chances of survival would increase significantly.

  ~~~

  『Name: Toren of Theravos

  Race: Human

  Age: 20

  Profession 1: Level 7 Burningblood Berserker (3200/14000)

  Mana: 18/112

  Strength: 16

  Constitution: 14

  Dexterity: 14

  Agility: 12

  Wisdom: 12

  Intellect: 8

  Will Power: 18

  Perception 15

  Appearance: 8

  Charisma: 8

  Luck: 10

  Attribute Upgrade Points: 6

  Traits:

  Sacrificial Guardian

  Abilities:

  Burning Blood (Rank 1) Proficiency: Mid

  Control Blood (Rank 1) Proficiency: Low

  Flurry of Blows (Rank 1) Proficiency: Low

  Ability Upgrade Points: 6

  Profession Skills:

  Severe Wound Recovery 5

  Focus Rage 3 → 4

  Combat Awareness 5 → 6

  Berserker Weapon Arts 1

  Pain Tolerance 5 → 6

  Physical Conditioning 6

  Intimidate 3 → 4

  Skills:

  Danger Sensing 3

  Stealth 18

  Mana Sensing 14

  Wilderness Harvesting 12

  Theravos Language 11

  Religion 10

  Meditation 5

  Bone Strengthening 3

  Divided Focus 2 → 4

  Hunting 20

  Archery 19

  Running 13

  Wound Binding 8

  Arithmetic 4』