Zahur was in bad shape, bruised, and something broken? His nose. His knuckles were also bloody raw━in the literal sense━and something was wrong with the left shoulder. A quick [Lesser Assessment] overwhelmed Noa with the amount of superficial wounds Black Panther had, but he focused on the two wounds that weren’t superficial━that shoulder and nose. Useless spell. He figured that out on his own!

System [Lesser Assessment] Level 3 → 5.

For a moment, he felt like the System was just laughing at him, but then he gained a similar impression as he did when fixing Tin’s face. The body needed encouragement to heal in the right way.

While Zahur danced away from Waroc on the balls of his feet, Noa pulled out a strand, and shot it towards Black Panther’s left shoulder. He missed. The strand twisted about again, and Zahur had moved. Huh, was it supposed to be this hard to heal a moving target?

Noa winced when Zahur howled, taking another hit to his nose, which... was growing more important than that shoulder now. Ah, screw it, he thought, and instead of directing the aether to a specific location on Zahur’s body, he just let it fly into the man. That, strangely, worked. In fact, for the spell he casted, it worked perfectly. It was like the spell’s sole intention was to adhere directly to the body, or it simply knew what the body needed alongside what Noa commanded. The aether resurfaced over Zahur’s nose, and fit into the shape it was supposed to be.

System [Lesser Appeal] level 2 → 4.

Without waiting for the command prompt to pop up, Noa fed the spell with [Lesser Mend], depleting two of about ten aether stones. The more Zahur’s nose mended the faster the man became. He dodged more efficiently, and while he still held back on that left shoulder, his right hook became quicker, landing a solid blow against Waroc’s jaw. Noa smiled as the large brute stumbled back, the victory reinforced by a series of notifications that popped up in the side of his vision.

System [Lesser Mend] level 35 → 36.

System [Lesser Mend] level 36 → 37.

System Class [Mender] level 4 → 5.

System [Lesser Mend] level 37 → 38.

The victory was short lived as Waroc jumped back with a leap that should have been impossible, giving him plenty of time to pick up Zahur’s shovel. He charged Zahur with a bellow, and Noa clenched his jaw, watching as Black Panther narrowly dodged a stabbing blow to his gut. His left arm, however, gushed with the slice it took. Zahur stumbled, and Noa was quick with another [Lesser Appeal]. It didn’t take to the gashed wound, and Noa casted [Lesser Examination] next, the aether sliding easily to the wound after it entered Zahur’s body.

System [Lesser Examination] level 22 → 23.

Noa immediately understood that the amount of debris in the wound from the shit-shovel could be deadly. With the new information, he tried again with [Lesser Appeal], but instead of fitting to Zahur’s wound like it wanted, he shaped the aether inside the wound, forcing it to do something specific━push debris out.

While Zahur dodged one swing of the shovel after the next, moving with an agility that was superior to Waroc’s, Noa completed the spell. It took this time, and the wound oozed more before mending, and another aether stone emptied.

System [Lesser Appeal] level 4 → 5.

System [Lesser Mend] level 38 → 39.

The wound sealed shut, and Noa moved to fix the shoulder, which was now in full use as Zahur grimaced through the pain, catching the shaft of the shovel. He couldn’t quite rip it from Waroc’s grasp, and they ended up in a battle of trying to throw each other about with the heavier weight man━Waroc━ winning. He slammed Zahur into a tree, which knocked one of Zahur’s hands off the shaft. With one yank, Waroc held the shovel again. He swung, and Noa desperately fed [Lesser Mend] to another [Lesser Appeal]. He focused on that shoulder, the one Waroc swung towards.

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Come on! Come on! Noa gritted his teeth, feeling like the aether inside the shoulder was a mess. Ligaments stretched and torn, the bone not sitting in its socket quite right, and the muscle strained.

System [Lesser Appeal] level 5 → 7.

System [Lesser Mend] level 39 → 40.

He felt what he assumed to be ligaments knitting themselves together, and another aether stone was used, leaving about five and a half remaining.

Zahur used his left forearm to block, and there was a loud snap as he did. He cried out, his yell mixed with agony and rage. Black Panther moved closer, rebuffing the shovel with a broken arm, and made three quick strikes to Waroc’s gut. The brute doubled over, and Zahur swung his elbow against Waroc’s head, causing the brute to drop the shovel and stumble away.

Noa took the brief reprieve as an opportunity, focusing on that broken arm, even though the shoulder was still incomplete.

System [Lesser Appeal] level 7 → 8.

System [Lesser Mend] level 40 → 41.

The fifth aether stone was used, and sweat dripped from Noa’s brow as the spell continued. Zahur landed another good punch against Waroc, the brute’s face bloodying. He reeled back, and Zahur swatted the attack away.

System [Lesser Mend] level 41 → 42.

Zahur took a blow to his injured shoulder, buffeting him back, yet Noa still fed the spell, bones realigning in the broken arm. Black Panther’s right hand jerked to hold the shoulder, but he instead used it to deflect another blow. He was down an arm, and Waroc was utilizing that, even if the brute was slowing down.

The sixth aether stone was used.

System [Lesser Mend] level 42 → 43.

Jumping out of reach, then jerking forward with his fist, Zahur’s attack missed and was redirected as Waroc pushed, the rest of his weight going with him. Noa grimaced as Zahur went down, rolling across the ground with a loud groan.

The seventh aether stone dulled.

System [Lesser Mend] level 43 → 44.

“Get up!” Noa yelled, the eighth stone depleted. He had two left, and one wasn’t filled completely. If he could just fix that shoulder now!

Waroc marched to Zahur, grabbed at his shirt, and reeled his fist back. Zahur tried leveraging his left arm against the brute’s neck, which trembled badly. With his right arm, he deflected the first blow, meanwhile Noa shaped the aether in his shoulder. It fit, and he felt as if he’d connected the muscle instead of ligaments this time, but in all honesty, he didn’t know. Instead, he allowed the spell to guide him.

System [Lesser Appeal] level 8 → 9.

System [Lesser Mend] level 44 → 45.

System [Lesser Mend ] level 45 → 46.

The ninth stone was gone, and Zahur was now holding Waroc’s fist with his right arm. Waroc let go with his other hand, and just as he did, Zahur bellowed, twisting himself and his arm until he could push Waroc over, locking the man’s head in his left arm.

Almost! Noa thought, certain that if he could finish healing that damn shoulder, the fight would be over.

System [Lesser Appeal] level 9 → 10.

System [Lesser Mend] level 46 → 47.

System Aether depleted.

Finally, Zahur had Waroc pinned under him. His shoulder still had a bit of healing, and Noa held his breath, hoping it would be enough. He watched as Waroc’s form writhed. The man punched, Zahur grunting with each, yet not relenting. Instead, he waited patiently until finally, the brute went limp.

Noa sighed, and after a moment longer, Zahur got off the man with a groan. He rolled up to his feet, and stumbled to the old man. Just like that, victory came crashing down. This was no victory, it was a loss. Noa frowned, watching the gentle way Zahur lifted the man into his arms.

“Izold?” he asked, shaking him. Then he froze, and Noa felt the pain that contorted over Zahur’s face. They lost a life today, and Noa couldn’t do anything to save him.

He tightened his hands into fists, anger bubbling up over anguish. He was pissed! Pissed at himself! Pissed at the farm! Pissed! Burying the anguish deep beneath the anger, Noa looked over the crowd, faces reflecting the mixed emotions of anger and terror. They needed to move fast, else She-monstrosity might discover what had become of her husband.

“What now?” Enora asked, still beside her brother.

“Strike?” a woman asked, standing at the front of the small crowd of workers with a somber expression. She tore her eyes away from Izold, and looked at Noa.

Damn... I’m their leader now, he thought, steeling his expression. He had to make a decision, one that put the safety and interests of everyone else above his own. There was no time to find the lock.

“Move quickly,” he said, starting to shove dull aether stones into his pockets. “Everyone to the church. The strike starts now.”