No potions were tailored for internal injuries, and Claude didn’t have the luxury of time to scour the kingdom for a solution. Internal wounds fell into the domain of the elusive [Fea], and healers were powerless against injuries they couldn’t perceive.

But the gods hadn’t forsaken him entirely; torrents of vital energy surged into Claude, keeping him tethered to life. Making the best of a dire situation, Claude silenced his thoughts and relied on instinct.

With a sudden lurch, he lunged forward, jaws agape. The reckless assailant took his time, methodically severing each limb, striking multiple blows to exploit Claude’s vulnerable joints. Those joints had always been his Achilles’ heel, a fact well-known to him as a seasoned warrior. Despite his efforts to protect them, the unexpected assault left him immobilized, unable to defend himself with his sturdy shell. Yet to Claude’s surprise, the assailant proved feeble, struggling to even make a dent in the weakest joints with each strike.

The Kid swung the sword with the finesse of a novice, each blow lacking the force the sword should have possessed.

“Is he toying with me?” Claude’s maw stretched wide, his razor-like tooth poised menacingly toward the youth’s head.

Claude experienced a level of pain he had never felt before, surpassing even the agony of being burnt alive. The desire for vengeance surged within him, a craving to inflict torment in return. The pain threatened to consume his sanity, but with his mind clouded, his primal instincts surged, honing in on one objective: to kill. His jaws gaped unnaturally wide, his jagged teeth elongating to twice their usual size. Yet, before he could close in on the youth’s vulnerable head, a sense of déjà vu washed over him.

A familiar, albeit larger, blade breached his defenses, plunging deeper into his gaping maw.

“Did the kid plan this all along or...” The thought remained unfinished as the sword, now ten times its original size, tore through him from the inside out.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Look at what you made me do,” Ric grimaced.

The trio had dwindled to a duo, and the remaining pair longed for the sweet release of death. Yet, they were held captive by the demon, awaiting their fate, as it seemed the demon had not finished toying with them.

Time crawled as Ric dealt with the arduous task of severing the crab’s head. The creature’s neck proved thicker and sturdier than anticipated, prolonging the gruesome spectacle.

Forced to bear witness to the horror show, the duo found no solace in death, as Ric adamantly denied them that escape. Regardless of their attempts, the oppressive light persisted, refusing to relinquish its hold.

“It’s a real pain, isn’t it?” Ric smiles, attempting to lighten the grim atmosphere as he understands and shares their burden. “That damned thing suddenly got stubborn.”

Drawing the crab’s severed head closer, Ric perched atop it. To the Duo’s horror, Claude still clung to life, albeit barely. Sensing their bewilderment, Ric offered an explanation. “I’ve intertwined our life forces. We’ll all meet our end soon enough, so don’t fret.” Despite his reassurance, doubt flickered in his eyes, uncertain if his words held true.

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Their life force dwindled at an alarming rate, yet the darkness and death energy refrained from encroaching upon their core. After several futile attempts at experimentation, Ric conceded defeat. First, the crab succumbed to its injuries; with its head split in two, life force became challenging to sustain. Next, the bat followed suit, and finally, the snake breathed its last hiss.

In the end, Ric’s efforts resulted in a failed attempt to create a scar. Although they possessed a faint remnant of death energy, the snake’s untimely demise halted the experiment midway. Apparently, staying alive while being skinned posed a challenge beyond its capabilities. Left with nothing more than a pile of skin, he mused about repurposing it into a pair of boots.

“I wonder if anyone else has considered this before.”

— — —<>|*|<>— — —

Mary stood frozen like an icicle, melting away to form the circle of life. For an hour, she remained immobile, consumed by concern for others and herself. The simultaneous mix of joy and dread enveloped her as the miracle of birth unfolded before her eyes.

In such a world, is it truly a blessing for a child to be born?

The internal struggle raged within her. Was it her role to preach about the harsh reality or to refrain from snatching away the only joy her people—her children might find?

After enduring hours filled with tears, yelling, and blaming, the cry of the newborn seized everyone’s attention, leaving only joy lingering in the room.

As Mary departed to share the news, doubts gnawed at her. Was the child’s arrival indeed a miracle and did her children deserve offspring of their own? Curiously, despite her passive role in the birthing process, they showered her with praise and bestowed upon her the mantle of the child’s mother. While all she did was stand there like a statue, her life force draining away merely from bearing witness to the ordeal. Later, they burdened her with the child’s responsibility, declaring her the child’s shield and mother.

“Mary had always considered everyone under her care as her own children, but since adopting Ric, she had almost forsaken her vows as a nun, let alone the idea of mothering them all. And now, yet another soul had fallen into her care.

Mary observed Debbie rubbing her eyes, yawning, and then, in a series of unfortunate events, tripping, hitting her head on a rusty pole, and fainting.

Mary lets out a heavy sigh. “And people think I can take care of and guide all of them,” she murmured as she heaved to lift Debbie.

Lara, a centaur with a horse’s face, galloped toward Mary, nearly knocking her over. “You—here,” she gasped for air. “Hold on.” Without explaining the situation, Lara picked up Mary and rushed back.

Near the townhouse, Ravi gawked at Mary as she struggled to form words. From the looks of it, Ravi guessed someone had crushed her windpipe and then shrunk her ribcage. “What happened to her?

Moments ago, fear consumed him as a hostile crowd threatened to take his life for no apparent reason, but upon spotting Mary, his worry shifted to her precarious situation.

“The wind gets to people,” Lara nonchalantly shrugged.

“Wouldn’t it have been better if you brought her on your back, instead of crushing her between your arms?” Ravi furrowed his brows.

Lara paused, considering the question for a second before shrugging with indifference and joining the crowd, who were eager to hurl rocks at him. In her disdain for him, she even ignored Mary, who shot daggers at her the entire time.

It was perplexing – first bringing Mary in such a condition, now planning to pelt stones at him while she was in the crosshairs and in this fragile state. “Are you truly the famous nun I’ve heard about?” Ric wondered aloud.

Mary raised a finger, signaling for more time as she struggled to catch her breath.

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