It had been only minutes since Raka atomized the basilisk's skull, yet he still hadn't moved.
Kneeling in churned mud, he flexed trembling fingers, trying to grasp how his fist had done that. Letting out a shaky breath, he shook his head and pushed to his feet—
"Ow—!"
A sharp pain appeared on his right leg. Looking down, seeing his torn suit, soaked in red pouring from a sizable wound.
He should have expected as much, fighting a monster for the first time. It would have been odd if he had somehow made it out unscathed.
Shit, what am I supposed to do now? Sure, he knew some basic medical skills or necessities like cleaning the wound or tying a knot around the leg to stop bleeding.
But he has absolutely nothing to work with. Now that adrenaline had started to wear off, Raka was finally feeling the injuries he had sustained.
Thankfully, his leg was the only major wound. Everything else he could probably leave alone. After some hard thinking, he thought it best to clean the wound first before doing anything else.
He was sure his body had some new quirks that would probably let him survive something like this, but it was better to be safe than to get his leg infected.
Walking slowly back towards the river, he wondered whether it was wise to return to the place where he had just been attacked. But he didn't see any other flowing water sources around, so this was his best bet.
Stopping at the edge, he scanned the area around him. Making sure that there are no more "surprises" appear. Because just that one encounter was enough to nearly give him a metaphorical heart attack.
After being satisfied, he crouched and grabbed a handful of river water. He took a deep breath to prepare himself and poured the water slowly around his "wound."
As the water flowed down his leg, he braced himself to see just how bad or deep the wound was. With the amount of blood that was there, surely it had to be pretty deep-
"The hell?"
Only to be surprised when he saw that there was no wound at all. That couldn't be right. He was sure that his leg was still bleeding just a moment ago. How was the wound already gone?
He traced his fingers around where the wound used to be and finally realized, "Could I have a healing factor?"
To confirm his speculation, Raka quickly looked at his body. His suit was torn in some places and stained with blood, but upon closer inspection, there were no scars left.
Another odd thing was that he was still sore throughout his body. So does his healing factor work exactly?
This was completely unexpected. Recca never mentioned something like this would happen. No. If he had known, he would have told him about it. This must be something completely abnormal.
Raka looked back at his leg, "Not that I'm complaining"
Shaking his head, he decided to think of what to do. Now that his head is much clearer than before, his priority is still to find some people.
"A river this large surely would have some people making use of it right? "
By that logic, if he headed downstream then the chances of him finding civilization should increase.
Nodding to himself, he prepared himself as he stepped onwards.
/ - /
This is so boring! Raka thought as he mindlessly walked along the river's edge. He had been walking for what had to be hours at this point.
At first, he kept a steady jog, still energetic enough to find civilization. But now, with the ground much rougher and hours passing, he was really reaching his limit.
Physically, he was still fine—whatever gift the experiment had granted made him far more resilient than before, it turns out—but he was mentally exhausted.
His boots were dirty, he was sweating heavily, and every time he cleaned himself with river water, he got dirty again soon enough.
A drop of water hit his nose.
"Huh? Oh, come on."
He didn't even realize the clouds had gone dark until the first few rain drizzles fell on him. Before it finally settled into an even pour.
This sucks. Even with the heavy rain, he kept walking forward. He didn't have anywhere to keep himself dry anyway, so why bother?
Time blurred, and the rain had stopped a while back. Raka didn't know how long he had been walking and was starting to feel hopeless until he saw an odd shape in the distance.
He thought it might have been an oddly shaped tree until he got closer and realized that the shape stretched across the river.
"Wait, is that-!"
Turning into a sprint, he ran towards it as the shape finally became clear.
A bridge!
It was a surprisingly modern-looking bridge. It was made of sturdy wood, and someone definitely had been taking care of it because it had no rotting wood or broken pieces that he could make out.
Standing on his end of the bridge, his eyes widened once he saw what lay on the other side. It was a dirt path. Turning around, he realized that there was no such path behind him.
Meaning that if he followed the path, it would lead him to a town. And a city meant people.
"All right!"
His mood restored, he walked across the wooden bridge, its frame creaking gently under his steps. He let his fingers trace along the worn guard rails on the side.
Maybe things are finally going to start going his way.
/ - /
The dirt track was mostly smooth, save for the occasional roots of a tree that grew out of it. Its edges were marked by the faint wheel ruts of some forgotten cart.
Raka followed the line almost absently, shoulders unclenching more with every step. The forest was still the same tangle of roots and shadow, but the path seemed much less eerie because it proved that people had passed this way and survived long enough to leave a groove.
Wind sifted through the canopy, stirring pockets of late afternoon light that mottled the ground.
Compared to the riverbank's roar and the basilisk's thrashing chaos, the quiet felt nice. He caught himself rolling one wrist, feeling it still a little sore from the basilisk fight.
He should look into his new ability more. It was weird how it healed his injuries, but he still felt sore and tired.
The quiet let thoughts drift ahead of his boots. What happens when the sun drops? The idea of camping alone in a forest still crawling with monsters didn't thrill him.
That and the fact that he had no idea how to start a fire or how to make a camp.
His hands suddenly found themselves on the cracks on his face. If I can make the cracks glow on purpose, he mused. Maybe I could light the way. Like a human torch? No—human firefly. Heh, that would be a funny sight.
Somewhere ahead, the track would meet something, village, outpost, or—hopefully not—trouble. But for the moment it was only a road. That would hopefully lead him somewhere useful.
/ - /
"Quickly, everyone! My spells should have stopped them for a good while!"
Plenty of footsteps were heard running in the dim forest. Nova pushed aside a curtain of the ropy vine and stepped into a pocket of the forest so tight-woven the daylight thinned to green glass.
Hazel trunks stood shoulder to shoulder, their roots braided into walls that funneled everyone into a single clearing no wider than two wagons. Good: one entrance to guard, three angles of concealment.
"Alright, we can rest here for now."
Thirty-two people followed her in, stumbling more than walking. Orcs with iron shackles still half-sawn away, a pair of fairy twins whose wings drooped like wet silk, three humans clutching each other as though touch alone could keep the world in one piece.
Boots and bare feet alike sank into spongy moss, muffling what little noise exhaustion let them make. When the last figure crossed the vine curtain, Nova placed her hands on the ground and closed her eyes.
Suddenly, a blue light appeared on the ground, covering her and everyone else. "That should stop anyone from finding us for a while." She muttered. It was a simple cloaking spell that would mask their presence from other mages.
But if anyone got close enough, they could see the transparent barrier around them and their location would be compromised.
"You two, on the lookout for anyone approaching," she said, her voice quiet. Two beastmen—the lynx-eared twins who had volunteered as runners—nodded and took positions on opposite sides of the glade, hand-and-tail signals flashing between them.
The rest sagged into loose knots. The moment bodies touched moss, small sounds leaked out: the hiss of someone easing off a swollen ankle and the sounds of sobbing from those who had held it for too long.
Nova moved through them, making sure that no one was missing. Good leaders recount anyway, her captain used to say—numbers anchor the mind. Thirty-two. There were no major injuries, and everyone seemed to be okay.
At the far side of the ring, Meyri, a Cat beastmen knelt and let her passenger slide free. Elder Cora looked even smaller standing on her own feet: a high-elf whose silver hair spilled to her waist.
She wore a cloak several sizes too large and had a large bruise around her neck due to the slaver's chains that had bound her. Even after going through so much, once she saw Nova, she offered her a gentle smile.
Cora steadied herself against Meyri's arm, then inclined her head to Nova in a courtly bow. "Your swiftness honors Nikoleta, child. It honors us all."
Nova wanted to wave the words away, but respect for the elder kept her shoulders squared. She touched two fingers to her own collarbone in the salute of the High Guard. "Doing my duty, Elder. That's all."
"Duty or not," Cora said, voice a low chime, "we are alive because of it." She glanced around the clearing, taking in each face. "And life is a gift better shared than hoarded."
The words spread like warmth through the group. A human girl of no more than twelve gave a brittle smile to the hunched dwarf beside her. One of the fairy twins elbowed the other and tipped her chin toward Nova in playful thanks.
Nova accepted the moment but didn't let it linger. "Water first," she ordered, stripping the stopper from her skin and handing it to the fairy twins. "Small sips. Pass it clockwise." She knelt to unlatch a weather-stained pack, fishing out the last rye biscuits she had brought.
Crumbs, but crumbs were still calories. She divided them into strips no longer than a finger and parceled them out, starting with the youngest and weakest.
A rumble of distant thunder echoed through the canopy, more a reminder that weather respected no rescue schedules. Nova lifted her gaze to the treetops anyway, tracing where the daylight brightened in thin shafts.
Two hours of sun left.
Footsteps scuffed behind her. Meyri reappeared, eyes wide, tail flicking. "Perimeter's quiet. Scent of rain, nothing else."
"Good," Nova said. "If anything bigger than a fox sneezes, inform me."
Meyri flashed a grin and padded back to her post.
Nova finally allowed herself a single breath that reached the bottom of her lungs and relaxed on the side of a tree. The glade smelled of crushed fern and old bark, which were very welcome compared to the atmosphere of the slave market.
Around her, finally settled. They adjusted bandages, pressed back tears, and shared their crumbs. Everyone was finally getting a moment to breathe after their escape.
She knew it wouldn't last. Slavers rarely surrendered lost coins without a chase, and dusk could birth threats the daylight hid.
"Deep in thought, aren't you?"
"Ah-! Elder, you surprised me."
Offering her another smile, Cora slowly sat next to her. For a moment, the two sat in silence. "You should have left me there." Cora suddenly said.
Nova's eyes widened, "H-how could you say that?" Expecting this reaction, Cora turned her gaze back towards the other escapees.
"Losing them wouldn't have meant too much, but in their eyes, I am the most valuable." She paused, letting Nova process her words, "With me gone, they are going to use all they have to get me back—"
"Then I will deal with them when they get here." Nova cut her off.
Cora wanted to say more, but seeing the determined look in her eyes made her stop. Suddenly, she started to chuckle, making Nova nervous.
"What's so funny?"
"I apologize; it's just that… you have grown so much in just 500 years."
That made Nova's eyes widen as her breath hitched, and she averted her eyes. But then, she felt a warm embrace surround her as Cora engulfed her in a tight hug.
She did not say anything, nor did she have to. But her actions were enough to soothe Nova's heart.
When she let go, Cora let a mischievous look appear on her face. "And with those cursed chains out of the way, it will only be a few days before my mana recovers. So you will be first in line to see an Elder in action~"
Nova chuckled, "Now that would be an unforgettable sight."
/ - /
Raurk still hadn't sat down.
He circled the small clearing one slow lap after another, claws digging little crescent cuts in the moss.
Every few steps, he looked toward the human couple near the fire pit—Harun and Lira—the way a dog glares at people who walk past its fence.
No one missed the glare, but no one said a word. Everyone was too tired to pick sides.
Nova tracked him from across the glade. She didn't move though, just quietly observed him. If pacing around helped clear his mind, she found no reason to interfere.
Cora sat on a fallen log, eyes closed, palms resting on her knees. Her breaths were quiet and gentle, and she was slowly but surely regaining her strength. A few fairies shuffled closer, finding her presence soothing.
Then Lira laughed—just a tiny, shaky sound meant for her husband alone. Raurk's head snapped up. The laugh hit him harder than any punch could. In two strides he was standing over them.
"You." His voice came out rough. "How much silver did your kind pay for my cubs?"
Harun blinked. "I don't—"
Raurk's fist smashed into his jaw. The crack echoed through the trees. Harun dropped, half-conscious. Lira screamed and threw herself over him.
The other refugees stiffened but otherwise stayed silent. They were too shocked and scared to act. It felt like even the forest went still.
Raurk pulled his arm back for another hit.
Nova blurred forward. One moment, she was ten feet away; the next, she was between them, catching the punch on her cheek. She didn't even rock back.
"Enough," she said, staring at Raurk with a firm gaze.
Raurk growled. "They traded in flesh. My den burned while men like him counted coins."
Nova kept her eyes on his. "Did this man hold the torch?"
Raurk's jaw tightened. His claws twitched repeatedly, but the punch he wanted to throw wouldn't leave his shoulder.
"We are being hunted," Nova said, voice steady. "Shouting helps the slavers track us. Hitting each other saves them the work."
Harun coughed behind her. Lira pressed a cloth to his mouth, eyes wet. Nova didn't look back; the couple was safe for now. Her focus stayed on the wolfman.
Cora's thin voice broke the silence. "Raurk, look at me."
He turned, surprised that she even remembered his name. The elder stood on shaky legs, Meyri the cat-girl ready to catch her if she fell.
"Humans buy slaves," Cora said, "but so do wolf folk, orcs, even elves. Evil has no single face, child."
Raurk's shoulders rose and fell. The anger in them started to slip into something else. His ears drooped.
"My heart weeps for you and your family" His breath hitched, "They did not deserve what happened to them."
Then she turned to look at the couple. "But they are also victims. Blaming a species for the actions of one is not just. We are in a difficult time; turning on each other will only burn us further."
Finally, she stared into Raurk's eyes, filled with sympathy and compassion. "Please, your family would not want to see you like this."
That was the final blow.
He took one step back, then another, until his back touched a wide oak. He slid down the trunk, head in his hands, shaking.
No one made any comment, not even the couple. They knew he was grieving, and didn't feel right to punish him for it.
Nova knelt by Harun and checked his jaw—it was swollen but not broken. She handed Lira a clean strip of cloth for the bleeding lip.
Nova stood and scanned the trees. The light was fading, but it looked like the rain had already faded. She needed the group quiet, hidden, and ready to move at dusk.
"Rest here," she told them all. " We leave when the first star shows."
A single sob drifted from where Raurk sat, half-lost in shadow. No one pointed, no one stared.
They simply allowed a man to grieve the loss of his family alone.