Boran stared at his finger. There was no pain, or perhaps there was but he couldn't feel it. The tip of his pinky finger was gone from the second knuckle. Blood was still seeping from the cut surface, dripping onto the ground drop by drop. He watched the red drops in an oddly hypnotized state.
He thought about his shield. So many pieces of armor had struck it that some must have slipped past its edge. His left hand had been holding the top of the shield, with his pinky finger probably exposed. He had been so focused on the battle that he hadn't even felt the pain. Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins.
"How strange," he muttered to himself. "The human body is so fragile yet so resilient." He pulled his bleeding finger to his chest, tore a piece from the edge of his t-shirt, and wrapped it around. The blood immediately spread through the fabric, creating a dark red stain.
Boney came to his side, the blue flames in his eye sockets glowing with concern. He was looking at Boran's lost finger. They both stood in silence for a moment.
"Sometimes I forget," said Boran, carefully wrapping his injured finger, his eyes staring into space. "I forget how fragile we are. Behind all this power, armor, and weapons, we're still beings made of flesh and bone. One moment of carelessness, one small mistake and... our lives change. Maybe this fragility is part of what makes us human."
He tightened the bandage. The pain was starting to make itself known now — first a slight throbbing, then an increasingly sharp sting. Boran gritted his teeth. He would have to get used to this pain.
"Well, I guess I'll have to manage with nine fingers now," he said, looking at Boney with a slight smile. "At least I didn't lose my thumb for holding the shield. Though come to think of it, I need to be more careful."
He saw movement in the corner of the arena. Probably the rewards dropped from the Boss. But Boran didn't rush. He sat there for a while longer.
"You know," he said thoughtfully, his gaze distant, "my father used to tell battle scar stories. He always said there's a lesson behind every wound, a memory behind every mark. Now I have a story to tell too. Well, it's not that big of a loss but... a loss is a loss." Then he turned to Boney Stark, looking at the blue flames in his eye sockets.
"How did you die, Boney? If you don't mind me asking. Surely you must have stories to tell too."
The skeleton shrugged his shoulders in an "I don't know" gesture.
"So you don't remember. Maybe that's for the best."
Boran slowly stood up. His head was still spinning, his body aching from Guardian's attacks. But he was standing. He was alive. And for now, that was enough. There, on the arena floor, was a small pool of blood. His blood.
Footsteps began coming from the arena entrance. First from afar, then echoing louder in the corridor as they approached. Boran and Boney looked at each other. When Boran realized someone was coming, he quickly went to the rewards dropped by the Boss and transferred everything to his inventory without looking at what they were. He sent Boney Stark back to his ring.
"Everyone take position," said a deep male voice. "Jade, stay in the back. Use your spells only when we're in the front lines. Marcus, protect us with your spells. Thea, keep your shurikens ready."
Boran could hear whispers and the clanking of metal armor coming from the entrance. They probably had come to defeat Guardian, but they were too late.
"I'll take point," said the same voice. "The Guardian of the Empty Flame is a dangerous boss—everyone be ready."
At the front stood a tall man in shining armor. Behind him were five people: a ninja, a mage, a druid, a healer, and another warrior. They were all well-equipped.
The group paused in surprise when they entered. Instead of the dark and threatening Guardian they expected, there was a blood-covered man in the middle of the arena.
"Who...who are you?" asked the leader, his hand on his sword hilt, eyes fixed on Boran.
"Someone," said Boran in a tired voice.
The mage in his purple robe from the back of the group stepped forward. "Where's Guardian?" he asked, scanning the area. "We came here to fight him."
Boran smiled slightly. "You're too late. Guardian is gone. I just defeated him."
There was a moment of silence. Then the group members started whispering among themselves.
"Impossible," said Druid Marcus. "You can't defeat Guardian of the Empty Flame alone. We're a six-person team and even we thought we'd struggle."
"It wasn't easy, believe me."
Thea said "Do you have any proof? That you really defeated Guardian? Maybe you're waiting for your teammates here? You might have hidden the Boss somehow."
Boran slowly shook his head. "Sorry, but there's nothing left to see here. Guardian is gone. You should leave too."
Thea stepped forward, taking a threatening stance with her shurikens. "You won't get away that easily. Either you're telling the truth, in which case you need to share the items dropped by Guardian with us, or you're lying..."
Boran sighed. Things always went this way. People... or whatever they were, always wanted more. "Look," he said in a tired voice, "I just want to leave. You should do the same. Nobody needs to get hurt."
"Are you threatening us?" roared the warrior, drawing his sword. "Alone against six people?"
"No," said Boran in a calm voice. "Just making a suggestion. And... who said I'm alone?"
The group became uneasy at these words. Their eyes began scanning the dark corners of the arena. Boran took advantage of this situation to quickly use the emergency exit key. Sometimes the best fight was the one that never started.