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Arcane Transfiguration
2. Brink of death

2. Brink of death

‘I can’t stop it…I just…if I could close the wound I could…’

His efforts were futile, more and more blood slipping out the skin tear. Perhaps nothing would save him. He doubted he’d get resurrected like Hiro.

This was the end. Nothing beyond here. Even if he was reincarnated, he wouldn’t remember this life. Dagnas was at the end of his story.

Despite that acceptance, he refused to give up ‘til his final breath. Perhaps it was a way of paying Marcus back for all the help he’d given back in the day after Dagnas’ world had crumbled before him.

Whatever caused it, Dagnas was continuing his futile effort to remain alive, despite the blood loss.

As people surrounded the dying man, filled with shock and worry for the poor thing, Dagnas’ eyes lit up.

Something was happening, something Dagnas had never expected. Sure, he had hope of survival, yet that didn’t equate to expectation.

However, despite all odds, here he was, hands pressed against his throat as the torn skin began to close back together.

During the strange process, hidden behind his hands, it seemed as though the pouring blood warped into skin then latched itself across the open wound in order to close it like a shutter. Whatever had happened, it had saved him for now.

Even with the wound closed, Dagnas’ head and heart were pounding as he felt nauseous, maybe even more than he was on death’s door.

Regaining his sense, he leapt up from the ground, ignoring the crowd that had formed around him, staring around like a stray dog or a child separated from its mother, and he just ran, leaving the pool of his blood on the floor.

Without a second thought, Dagnas ran as fast as he could away from the scene. If it was discovered he had this kind of power, he was bound to become a test subject to all kinds of torture.

After running for an unknown yet long period, Dagnas rested against a tree, retrieving a locket from his pocket containing a picture of himself and another imposing, older man, and on the other half of the locket, a mirror.

Staring into the mirror, his eyes widened even further. Though he now looked like a starved child, dying from hunger and dehydration, something unbelievable was being reflected before his eyes.

That same throat which had just been mercilessly sliced by an assassin Dagnas couldn’t help but associate with that shady Goddess…it was healed.

His slit throat was healed to an extent that you couldn’t even imagine it had ever been cut.

***

It took some time for Dagnas to accept the reality of the situation, but after grasping it all, he realised he had one objective now.

Get blood.

Even with his throat sewn up, the blood hadn’t magically come back. That blood loss was still very prevalent. But human blood? Where would he get that?

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He wouldn’t in time.

Yet in this forest, he could easily hunt a monster.

If he can turn blood to skin, then could he turn monster blood into human blood? The answer didn’t matter to Dagnas’ actions; he had no choice but to place all his chips to this theory.

Weakened by the blood loss, and lacking a weapon, Dagnas was definitely disadvantaged.

If he fought a monster in this condition, he would die.

And so, Dagnas got to testing.

‘If I can change blood to skin then can I…

Placing his right hand onto his left, non-dominant, arm, Dagnas imagined the muscles turning to blood and the areas lacking in blood being refilled.

Before long, he was feeling much better, despite the aching in his arm from the poorly butchered muscle.

He now needed a weapon, and he had an idea.

Again placing his hand on his left arm, he imagined the skin, blood and muscles crawling up to his shoulder, making his body very imbalanced, and revealing the bones in his left arm.

Quickly redistributing the muscle, returning balance to his body, Dagnas then tore the bones out and reformed them into a shortsword.

‘It worked’ he smiled.

Though this butchered process hurt like hell, it was working. With this, he was ready to fight a monster. Perhaps he could use more than just the blood to fix his body.

Though, clothing would be an issue.

With haste, Dagnas began the hunt. In a forest like this, it didn’t take long to find a weak little monster. For Dagnas it was a-

“Reptine”

A reptine was a lizard-like monster about a metre tall with the bit of a crocodile. Still, defence-wise it was a very weak creature. All offence, Dagnas thought.

Since he’d covered up the arm wound, and recirculated the blood, there wasn’t really a time limit anymore, he realised, however Dagnas wasn’t exactly thrilled, lacking a left arm and having to disfigure his left shoulder in order to maintain balance.

“Ssssss” it hissed with a snake-like tongue upon noticing Dagnas. As an aggressive monster, it wasted no time rushing the crippled young man, yet Dagnas had fought monsters like this hundreds of times.

As it came charging, Dagnas jumped out the way, though he suddenly stumbled.

‘Damned balance’ he cursed.

Regaining composure, he grasped the sword in his hand, ready to pierce through the creature’s eye, mouth…whatever was left open.

Opening its huge gape in order to try to bite a chunk off Dagnas’ left leg, its eyes widened as a bone sword thrusted itself inside and up into its brain, still, in its final moments it gave one command to its body.

Chomp.

“Arghhhh!” Dagnas yelled, falling to the ground.

A weak monster like this had given him difficulty. This damned crippling had ruined him.

‘Alright, let’s just fix this,’ he thought. However, he couldn’t manage to do it. Whilst the transfiguration began, it soon failed as his mind was far too stressed to properly focus. Blood pouring out his right arm, Dagnas locked in.

‘Come on. Reattach the arm to the rest of it’

Suddenly, whilst he riggled on the floor, the arm latched itself onto the remains on his body and quickly reshaped to properly reattach.

‘Now, convert the monster’s corpse to another arm. Think. Visualise the other arm. Come on’

Slowly, part of the monster’s corpse tore off and began to undergo a lot of reshaping. First, it became a bloodied bone with a mix of scales and flesh twisted around it. Though, gradually the scales turn to more flesh and the flesh began to reform into something much more organised like muscles and tendons. Slowly but surely, the chunk of reptine was forming an arm.

A smile on his face, he attached the product of his imagination to his body, redistributing the hasty muscle on his left shoulder, regaining a symmetry across his body.

Looking at his masterpiece, he sighed with relief, under horror struck his face.

“I have…two right arms” the colour drained from his face.