By targeting myself, [Sterilize] went to work on the highest concentration of bacteria on me—the part in the direwolf's mouth.

Look at me reducing my risk of sepsis by orders of magnitude just so that I can die of blood loss days before.

I mentally twisted the skill to conform to my desire, but I immediately encountered resistance. The pooled Energy didn't dissipate, nor did it show any signs of retargeting. I tried again, hitting the same wall. The skill did not want to target something inside my body. It made logical sense. The dorsal root ganglia weren't infected, but Esper had said crafters had a similar skill that removed a thing's Spark. It should be possible, but how?

Skill responded to intent, so I did the only thing I could do in my situation: I forced it. My latest level had granted me greater latitude in abusing my skills, and I ran with it. I bent the skill to my will, focusing my intent to sterilize the dorsal root ganglia from C5-T10.

My will slammed into a wall. I hit it hard. Static filled my vision, but I didn't back down. I channeled more Energy into my resistant skill, all the while drawing the pooled Energy from my arm and towards my spine. The channels in my arm became thin, white-hot filaments as flow ran against design. However, what was one more note in a cacophony of pain?

I kept pushing the skill. The droplets of saliva began to vibrate, my control over my other skills slipping. My vision fuzzed to a wash of black and white. Then the skill snapped—no, bent. It hadn't broken, but it changed. Resistance gave way. The world returned to color. The saliva droplets ceased shuddering.

I had done it, but my unorthodox method had taxed my mind. My control floundered, though I didn't need precision—quite the opposite in fact. Aether toxicity took time. I needed collateral damage to impair the ganglia immediately. Even then, I couldn't target all the levels, only C5-T2. That span wouldn't help with my abdomen, but it'd cover my arm. That would have to do. [Quicken Thoughts] slipped out of my control. Time snapped back to normal, and the world went white.

I may have screamed. I may have grunted through clenched teeth. However, as a metallic taste filled my mouth, I had, at minimum, bitten my tongue when the left side of my back and neck contorted in spasm. I tried to move, but tiny supernovas kept going off along the length of my spine. A shadow with two red dots kept sweeping across the field of white and grey. The direwolf kept trying to rip my arm, yanking it back and forth—or at least trying to. My body, not my arm, moved with each jerk of the direwolf's head.

My arm had gone rigid, every muscle contracted at once as endless arcs of fire ran from my spine to my fingertips and around my left flank.

What had I done?

My body punished that single thought. My head pounded as if struck by a sledgehammer. I lost track of the next seconds, doing all I could to keep the direwolf from sinking its jaws into my neck, but then lancing bolts diminished to burning needles. Over seconds, my left arm and flank became a patchwork of stinging needles and blissful numbness.

My vision returned, though static overlaid it. I blinked as spittle and foam struck my face. Bleeding from its flank, any semblance of sanity had left the direwolf. The feral direwolf raked its claws across my skin with wild abandon, but thanks to the delicious numbness that had spread out from the center of my chest, I registered dull pressure or, at worst, flares of burning needles. Most importantly, the pain had dampened enough for me to focus on channeling Energy into my knife.

The direwolf didn't notice the calm that had spread across my face. It did notice when I stabbed my dagger coated in crimson Energy straight into its chest. It crunched down harder on my arm, but the numbness had deepened, the bite no worse than a tight band around my forearm. I just flexed the dull weight that was my arm, not allowing the beast to pull away. I twisted the wooden blade and once again slowed time.

A spike of pain erupted from my temple, and the world stuttered as it tried to slow. Black spots with pulsating shiny borders filled my vision. Whatever had supported my skill use had diminished. I was now pushing my Marks to the limit, and then, like an idiot, I pushed them further. My Marks strained under the sheer demand of adding [Sense Injury] to [Quicken Thoughts].

A bomb went off in my brain; my vision pixelated, then went black. A ringing began to build in both ears until I could only make out a high whine. My perception of the world around me narrowed until I couldn't pick out anything outside of arm's length. Luckily, what I needed to know fell within that range.

I focused on the blade—its crimson layer lost—buried in its flank. With my new angle, I had inflicted a significant wound, but I had not gone deep enough to strike the heart. If I could project a blade…but of course, that was an impossibility.

I readied to pull out the knife to find another target when I finally noticed it. My ineffectual stabs had left a parting gift. Esper's aura was fully active. Even in the short time I struggled on the ground, the aura had left its mark. My dirty blade had seeded the wounds with enough pathogens to allow an infection to take root in its side. I just couldn't count on it to save me. The wounds were just too superficial, and the direwolf was fighting off the infection.

Time for Plan B. I needed a new target, one that would cause lethal damage quickly. I needed a major artery, and Esper's aura had provided me a method. I found the wrongness from the infection I had seeded and traced it outward from the wounds. The degree of spread gave me even more respect for the power of Esper's aura. Already, the direwolf had the beginnings of sepsis.

I pulled my focus to its neck and drove my crimson blade into the area with the widest flow. For once, it jerked back, but I didn't dare let go. I had struck what I wanted, its carotid artery. I could have removed the blade, but seconds mattered. I screamed as I poured Energy into the blade and twisted. Warm blood spurted from the wound covering my hand.

In desperation, I tried to pour Energy to accelerate the effect of Esper's aura and got nothing. However, my dirty blade acted as a sufficient nidus of infection. Bacteria bloomed in the tissue around the carotid. The direwolf didn't notice; it continued to rake my chest, desperate to end the thing causing it pain.

More blood poured out, gushing down my arm, but more importantly, the flesh against my hand grew hot. The inflammatory cascade became a tsunami, which finally got the direwolf's attention. Light blazed from its markings. The wound in its neck started to heal.

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Screw that.

I triggered [Suppress Growth], sparing only the bacteria and its carotid's lining. The beast's body tried to resist, and I crushed it with every ounce of will I had. All around the wound, the healing ground to a stop, except inside the carotid itself. I twisted the blade again, keeping the wound open as the endothelium kept trying to regrow and close it. The direwolf clenched harder on my arm, and more sickening cracks came from it. Still, I poured Energy into [Suppress Growth] until the inevitable happened.

The direwolf's right side stiffened and then bucked. It collapsed, half its weight falling onto my body before rolling to the ground. It managed to tear at my chest once more before its bite on my left arm also slackened. Turned out, having half your body paralyzed took the ferocity out of even feral beasts.

During a brief relaxation of its jaw, I pulled out the shredded remains of my arm and kicked myself back until I was out of its reach. I studied the "complication" I had inflicted with my ad hoc cannulation of the carotid artery. My tactic had worked better than expected. The stroke had knocked out most of its right side, but it should still have a functional left side. However, it wasn't doing anything besides twitching.

Septic emboli?

By allowing the endothelium to regrow, I had improved the odds of clotting. Combined with an active infection, bacteria could have coated those clots on a direct path to the brain. The clots must have not only stopped blood flow to parts of the brain, causing a stroke, but also seeded the brain with an infection.

Or, maybe I just occluded its entire carotid and caused a massive stroke followed by a seizure. My brain hurt too much to flex [Sense Injury] to find out. Plus, it didn't matter. It worked. It was out of the fight, and I survived...mostly.

I did activate [Quicken Thoughts] before I inspected my arm, which turned out to be a good move. The dissonance between what my eyes saw and what I felt turned my stomach. I would have retched if I weren't locked in my thoughts.

I barely had an arm left. The direwolf had torn skin, muscles, and tendons to shreds. It had also inflicted compound fractures on both my radius and ulna. Worse, whether because she couldn't focus it or because my arm was inside the monster's mouth, Esper's aura had affected my arm. Already, the wound was bright red and hot, with the beginning of abscesses forming. Yet, an infection wasn't raging. [Resist Disease]?

Focus, Daniel. Heal first, hypothesize later.

I took a mental deep breath. A potion wouldn't heal all this, but it would mitigate the damage and prevent the massive hemorrhaging. The fractures were a no-go, at least for now. Potions accelerated healing, which I couldn't risk without properly setting the bones. That left me down one arm until the end of this battle.

Speaking of, I turned my attention to the world around me. While I had struggled to survive on the forest floor, Esper had managed to push back the direwolves' charge. Two more remained dead on the floor. The last had her knife embedded at the center of a large, growing circle of necrosis on its flank. Unfortunately, the wound had not stopped it, and Esper had paid a price for that blow. Her left arm sported a long, jagged wound along its length, making us twins with functionally useless left arms.

The direwolf stood on all fours, hackles raised, waiting for an opportunity to pounce. She needed my help. She had to be low on Energy. If I could get there and boost her with Aether…

I let my thoughts decelerate, popped the top on a potion, poured some over my massive lacerations, and then slammed the rest. The magical liquid kicked immediately. An uncomfortable internal heat built up inside me, and I gave thanks that I still could not feel half of my left body. Blood-coated, pink loops bulged through the deep gashes. I swallowed, and then, holding down bile, I shoved the perforated bowel back inside my body, pouring Energy into [Resist Disease] and [Suppress Growth] to keep the infections at bay.

I won't die of a gut infection.

Only then did I fully flex [Enhance Medicinal]. The injured tissue started to knit before my eyes, though it wasn't pretty. I had to wing the actual healing, not daring to tax my mind further by overlaying [Quicken Thoughts] on top of three other skills.

My gaze snapped up from my wounds when the direwolf let out a pained bark. It had taken its chance to pounce and had paid for it. It now limped, its front leg seeping blood from a large gash. Its wound had also festered more. If she could hold, Esper would come out the victor. However, her effort left her sagging.

She needs my help now.

Finding a reserve I didn't know I had, I dragged myself off the ground—not forgetting to grab my knife. The world spun as I stood. I staggered in her direction, but with each step, my footing became more sure.

The injured direwolf lunged again. Esper managed to deflect the bite, but it drove her backward right into the path of another direwolf that I had impossibly missed.

The beast was as large as two direwolves combined. It had similar coloring, with just a touch more silver. It had to be the alpha of the pack, and it did not like what it saw. Fury burned in its eyes, but it showed none of the craziness afflicting the rest of its pack. It sailed through the air, markings ablaze, on a direct path with Esper.

"Esper—"

I tried to yell a warning, but Esper had already swung a hand in its direction. Her Marks flared, but whatever magic she had used previously did nothing. The markings on the direwolf flashed brighter, and its trajectory remained unchanged. The alpha slammed into her, knocking her off her feet. The two slid across the dirt.

Somehow, [Sense Injury] barely flared. She had sustained minimal harm despite the beast ripping at her chest. She held it back with some invisible magical shield, but I came to realize that injuring Esper had not been the plan. The alpha's markings flashed green. The pressure fluctuated. My ears popped. [Sense Injury] reported a sudden reversal. The decay stopped. The direwolves' injuries stabilized. The alpha had unleashed an aura that, with Esper distracted, counteracted hers. With enough time, some of the wolves would recover enough to join the fight and rip us to shreds. That couldn't happen.

I turned, knife in hand, in a desperate attempt to dislodge the alpha when the direwolf that Esper had been fighting charged me. I had forgotten about it, and that would be my undoing.

I hit [Quicken Thoughts]. The direwolf's charge crawled, and the needles its crimson-laced paws had thrown hung in midair. The skill just afforded me a better view of my death. At the rate it traveled, I would never get my arm or blade up in time. It would slam me into the tree with the force of a semi. I braced myself for the impact. I had no other options. A concussion was the best outcome; loss of consciousness, the most likely. While both made it hard to maintain a skill, only one gave me a chance to manipulate the potion still surging through my blood. Without my direct input, the potion would be worthless and probably detrimental. My ill-advised charge had not done pleasant things to my injuries, and the potion would try to heal my plethora of injuries all at once, thereby healing nothing and likely just accelerating the infection I had brought to a standstill.

Before I dropped back into normal time, I did take a second to examine the wound on my attacker's flank. Apparently, the alpha's healing was potent stuff because it reversed almost all the necrosis.

That sucks. This world sucks.

Time sped up, and I braced for the inevitable collision. Ironically, time slowed without a skill. I took in the brown-and-silver-furred beast inching toward me. Its markings radiated power, casting its cruel fangs and eyes in angry red light. As it approached, the light extended to coat its razor-sharp claws and long fangs with cutting, crimson Energy.

Complete overkill. At least it will be over fast.

A dark flash streaked across my vision. A collision followed—just not the one that I expected.

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