The Bitten
The atmosphere in the group immediately turned serious.
"There are 11 of them and they're trying to encircle us," Danton said. "Mayor, if you will."
"Of course."
The mayor closed her eyes and her expression turned deep. Lorn could clearly sense something gathering in her hands. She clutched at something invisible, and slowly raised it above her head. With the gesture, the ground rumbled and three walls of dirt rose around him.
The group was suddenly protected from three sides, leaving only one opening for the wolves to attack them from.
'An Earth-bender…' Lorn thought with awe.
Lorn, the mayor and Sybil were tucked in the back, while Danton assumed a low pose holding his dagger behind Shekh, who stood ready with his shield in the front.
Soon enough, the wolves appeared from inside the tall grass. There were 10 of them growling menacingly at Lorn's group, and they all looked rabid. Two of them seemed especially bad, with their whole lower jaw was drenched with putrid drool, their eyes red on the edges due to the bloodshot veins. Only pure aggression could be seen from their expressions.
It seemed to Lorn that they were hungrily eyeing him especially. No. They were definitely looking at him, like he was the tastiest meal in the world.
He pulled out the knife he had gotten from the altar and also assumed a low pose. He briefly eyed the mayor and found her nodding back. She then looked at the rest of the group and they all exchanged nods.
Shekh grunted heavily and Lorn noticed he just used a skill. At that moment, the wolves' attention instantly zeroed in on him. Two were unable to stay patient and immediately jumped at him.
Shekh grunted once more and swatted one away. The other managed to avoid the shield, but was immediately smashed by Shekh's long sword. Its body went flying back at its pack, bent in ways that made Lorn cringe inadvertently. The strength of the man was inconceivable to him.
But seeing such violence, the wolves did not show fear and instead, they all rushed at the five humans.
The group showed no fear, either. Shekh started to tightly defend his body, as due to the skill he used, all the wolves exclusively attacked him. The two possessed wolves were especially cunning, always trying to bite at his joints and his half-exposed face.
But Danton and Sybil weren't idle either. The rogue would patiently wait for the wolves to jump high so he could stab at their body when they were unable to defend or dodge. Oddly, all of his cuts inflicted wounds that were highly lethal, even though the cut looked shallow. Lorn guessed that he too was using some sort of skill.
Sybil, on the other hand, was using some sort of magic. She would hold a piece of rock in front of her, and abruptly, she would shoot it at the wolves. Their strength wasn't anything to scoff at either. Although they didn't penetrate the wolves' bodies, every impact produced a shattering sound and would leave huge indents on the enemies.
The eight wolves that attacked the group fell down one by one. Lorn realized he was wrong to be worried. In the One World, wild beasts weren't something to be afraid of. Even the two possessed wolves helplessly fell to the group's overwhelming difference in strength. There was nothing they could do in front of the might of hunters.
'And soon enough, I'll be part of them!'
"Watch out!" Sybil suddenly shouted.
She was shouting at Lorn, her eyes following something above him. Lorn looked up and saw the frothy jaw of a wolf headed straight towards his head.
His instincts kicked in, and he immediately jumped sideways. But his training told him that he wasn't going to be able to dodge in time, so Lorn immediately swung the knife in his right hand, aiming at the wolf's head. No matter what, he needed to avoid the bite.
The knife's edge did not connect with its head. Of all the things that could happen, the knife passed between the wolf's jaws and the beast immediately bit down. Lorn flinched from the sharp pain, but he had no time to writhe as the wolf pulled at his hand, refusing to let go.
The two of them fell to the ground and their fight immediately devolved into a mess. Lorn frantically kicked the creature's head to save his hand, but the wolf's fangs were stuck on his flesh.
The abrupt appearance of steel ended the struggle. The wolf's neck was crushed under Shekh's sword, and the giant man pulled the wolf's jaw off Lorn's hand.
Chilling panic grabbed hold of Lorn when he saw his mutilated hand. The pain intensified greatly, and the only reason he wasn't falling into hysteria was because of his firm belief that the things happening in this world weren't real. He closed his eyes and chanted to himself.
'I just… need to log out… and everything will be fine…' Lorn repeatedly told himself. 'And besides… this wound is nothing… I've been through worse with my ex. This is just physical pain… Everything will be fine."
With great effort, he managed to keep his mind occupied with other things. For Lorn, his humor always became prevalent whenever he fell into desperate situations.
"Lorn, listen to me!"
Someone was speaking, but Lorn wasn't sure who.
"Use your skill! You should have Rejuvenation, right? Use it, or we'll have to cut your arm off!"
Lorn wanted to tell them to shut up. It was taking all his effort to not die from the shock and now they wanted him to fix his arm by himself? What a bad joke.
"Desperation strengthens your spirit! You've felt us using our spirit, so you'll be able to feel yours too!"
"We need to cut his arm before the infection spreads further," another voice cut in. "If we let it be, it's just going to get worse."
"No!"
"We'll wait a minute. Any more than that and it becomes unsalvageable."
The words scared Lorn. Everyone was calling him Undying, but with how they were reacting, he didn't feel like trying out his immortality any time soon.
Maybe he should at least try to use that damn skill. It wasn't like he would lose anything, and it was surely better than losing his arm.
'Ah, shit… fucking spirit…' he cursed.
He desperately remembered the times the others used their skills. The sense he felt from them whenever they did something magical. The magical moment when their consciousness affected the physical world. The tingle his head felt when it happened.
Imprinting that sense into his brain, Lorn searched it from his own body. When the hunters used skills, it always originated from their body. The skill was born inside them and only then, it could create miracles.
Lorn's new sense felt something on his head. It felt as if his head was surrounded by smoke. It was invisible but Lorn knew it was there somewhere. It hazily moved around his head, free from Lorn's influence, but definitely a part of him.
Focusing in on that feeling, Lorn opened his eyes. A cloth was wrapped around his hand but it was still bleeding endlessly. He mustered his willpower and ordered the cloud around his head to gather on his hand.
He was following his instincts as this was the first time he was trying his skill. But even though he managed to control the smoke, he couldn't make it heal him, no matter how much he ordered them to.
Then, another spirit collided with his. Compared to Lorn's messy one, this new spirit was much more focused. While his was a hazy smoke floating freely, this new one was a brilliant orb that contained every inch of the user's spirit.
And this new spirit was trying to take control of Lorn's but his own spirit was stubbornly refusing the foreign influence.
"To use a skill, imagination is key," a female voice was speaking beside him. "For me, Rejuvenation is a pond melting at the end of winter. Wherever it goes it gives life to the surrounding grass and animals. Imagine that."
Lorn swallowed and nodded.
'A pond traveling downstream and everything around it being rejuvenated with life.'
As he chanted the vision in his mind, he could dimly see the sight in his head.
Then, his stubborn spirit started to bend to the woman's spirit that was trying to control it. Together, they slowly trickled into Lorn's wounded hand, and mended the wound that Lorn was struggling with.
A tingly feeling took over Lorn's mind as he sensed his ruptured skin and tissues sewing itself back together. A miracle was happening to him. Lorn didn't know how magical it could feel to work his spirit. It was almost addicting.
But, as his hands healed more and more, his body was overcome with drowsiness. It took him everything to keep himself awake, and although he wanted to stay there and feel his hand regenerate, he quickly passed out from over-exhaustion.