(Viessa.)

I didn't remember the explosion, but somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware that [Counterspell] would've made a big one.

The floating debris that I and the elf-shaped dragon both now laid upon, busted and bleeding, was cracking loudly. I could hear it.

I looked towards the other woman present with me.

To my surprise, our eyes met. Though, to be fair, I was more shocked that I had survived than that she had; she was a dragon after all.

I saw something I hadn't expected then, however: fear. Dragons didn't fear; they were apex predators even when among other creatures that could usually lay claim to the title.

I stretched my hand out and placed it down upon the unstable rock below me.

My whole body ached. I could feel bits of shredded stones digging into my flesh, all over my face and hands--and also basically anywhere that had been exposed when the dragon's spell had imploded.

I would've cast a healing spell with my remaining Faith, but I could plainly feel the absence of my holy symbol from around my neck; it had no doubt been lost in the blast.

With my free hand, I reached for another [Concentrated Mana Vial]. I steeled myself against the nausea and vertigo that I knew was incoming as my shaking hand brought the potion to my lips and spilled it between my aching teeth.

My skin pulsated and I felt the violent urge to puke the contents of the necessary concoction back out instantly.

As the livewire of the potion's cold mint spread from my stomach and out into my veins, I could practically feel them begin to glow through my skin.

I couldn't stall just from the feeling, however. My HP was still slowly ticking away; I could feel my injuries slowly eating my remaining life down to nothing.

Crimson trickled into my eyes as I began to crawl towards the critically injured dragon.

[You have contracted Minor Potion Poisoning (Mana Sickness).]

I knew all too well that I would now suffer a significant debuff in my HP and MP recovery rates, unless I kept consuming mana potions; however, to do so would also increase the strength and length of the debuff itself.

For now, though, I could feel at least some of my magical strength returning.

The dragon-elf's pupils shook in a growing horror as I slowly, but surely, came closer.

I raised my hand towards my defeated enemy. I regretted what I was about to do, but I had not asked for this fight and there were more lives than my own riding on me somehow making it out of this damned temple--perhaps many more lives, even, if my growing suspicions were correct.

[Vampiric Touch] covered my outstretched palm and fingers in a half-opaque blanket of swirling black.

[Twin Spell] activated at my will afterwards and a dual glow of white-azure mixed into the black glow as [Mana Steal] blended into my casting to create a dual purpose attack.

The dragon twitched as my hand landed on her pants leg. My magic seeped through the conjured fabric easily enough. Having been right next to the [Counterspell] fueled explosion, the woman was too injured to move.

[You've dealt 10 HP of damage to Hellfire Wrym.]

[You gain 10 HP.]

[You've drained 20 MP from Hellfire Wrym.]

The message popped multiple times, around once per second. I could feel my bones mending and my bleeding slowing.

"Please," the dragon barely managed to whisper out to me; her arrogance was now gone.

I continued to meet her gaze. "I didn't start this."

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After a few more moments, my enemy's eyes began to dim.

I wouldn't kill her. I should, dragons were vengeful creatures, but I wouldn't.

I just needed a little more Mana and HP to get myself back up to a level where I could stand.

I didn't have a large HP pool, but the healing of my injuries was sucking up the majority of the health that I was stealing. I needed to at least halt the continuing degradation of my body, before I ended my cruel spell.

I felt my leg bones crack back into place and I grunted in pain. I didn't like taking physical damage at all; I was a mage and, like most mages, I wasn't used to or fond of the kind of injuries more common to close combat.

The dragon's eyelids slowly closed.

I was so close to my goal of stabilizing myself and then--

The cracking of the earth beneath us grew louder.

I felt my body start to slip backwards.

The rock beneath me seemed to be in process of sundering completely from its greater whole, only to fall into the void of stars below. My eyes instantly shot to watch as I was pulled backwards by this corrupted place's strange gravity.

I tried to grab onto anything that I could, but it didn't help.

I still didn't have the MP to activate [Fly]; most of the energy I had drained had gone into the continued fueling of [Vampiric Touch]. To add insult to injury, my HP wasn't even completely restored yet either.

There was nothing I could do as I, and the now unconscious dragon, fell into the nothingness below us.

We tumbled for what felt like warped hours. Eventually the void of stars passed us by and the cold, yet temperature-less, chill of something else enveloped us.

We were now in the gap between worlds. I could only assume we'd slipped through a crack in the unstable blending of realities that had created the star-field we'd been fighting within.

I'd been in the Other, which was what this place was called among the knowing, many times before; I was one of the few mortals who had, but I didn't have the Mana to activate any of my spells that could navigate it. To make matters worse, time didn't technically pass here, not enough to allow for the regeneration of MP, unless you first generated some sort of reality-stabilizing magic--which I also couldn't currently manage to do.

It was very possible that I would eventually slip back into some reality or another. However, it was just as possible that I would simply fall for a time that could very well seem to amount to that which had already passed throughout the entire length of creation.

I wouldn't age in this timeless place.

I could go mad though.

All things considered, I would probably do that in fact.

It was only a matter of time.

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(Castien.)

If nothing else would be said about her, Nazinin was fast.

She was already upon Alister by the time he had rolled back to his feet and managed to pick the redheaded girl back up.

Glaive and shortsword clashed in a flurry of blows that my lower level eyes could only just barely catch and likely could only do so at all due to my Perception. Even still, I could feel the perfect recall of my soft-maxed Intelligence filling in gaps as it replayed and combined images in my mind in real-time.

Alister raised another smoke bomb into the air and reappeared behind my ally. His boot then caught the back of her knee.

The elf wardancer was driven into the shifting sand.

Going in for the final strike, Alister prepared to drag his shortsword across my new friend's throat.

I had already been moving towards the two. Now I pushed my Agility to the max.

[Hellish Illusion] had already dropped.

I had only my weak Strength stat and small size to rely on as I crashed into the legs of the much stronger mercenary captain.

I barely budged him.

The man looked down to me with only the slightest of hesitations, before he drove his knee into my face.

My brain collided with my skull and I saw stars.

[You have been dealt 5 unarmed damaged.]

My health was now at six points. The swirling sand above my face only added to my vertigo as I felt the need to fade into the welcoming black of unconsciousness reaching out from my mind.

I watched as Alister raised his ring hand.

I barely worked up the strength to glance to where the redheaded slave was once again seeming to prepare a spell, this time it was one pointed to end me.

I didn't have anything to worry about when it came to Alister directing one of the girl's magical attacks towards me; not that he knew that, but I'd be open prey for any physical attacks once he did put together my magical immunity.

I regretted overextending myself so badly with my own magic now. I couldn't move; this body was so much weaker than the one I had built in my past life.

My eyes faded as I watched the ring atop Alister's hand glow against the sandstorm.

I heard the sound of ignition from the girl's growing spell.

My legs and arms just wouldn't move; it wasn't a matter of will, but of bodily inability. Soldiers and athletes trained to push themselves further because there was always going to be a limit to what a physical form could do; even adrenaline and mental determination had their ending points.

It seemed I'd reached my current, very limited, ceiling.

My eyes swayed. Time dilated.

Flames soon surrounded me. The harshness of the girl's spell didn't touch me as it should've, but I could still feel it wreathing my skin; I could smell the magical smoke and taste the heat of the fire--it just didn't hurt.

Because of this, the scream that echoed through the air next was very assuredly not mine.

As the bright fire cleared from my eyes, I looked up to see a half-handless Alister gripping at the now stump of his off-hand's wrist.

Nazanin, meanwhile, was recovering her footing from the quick-thinking strike that had severed the appendage.

A long, gaping wound leaked blood from her neck's left side. Had Alister done that before directing the girl to try and incinerate me?

It seemed like we'd technically almost won, but everything now relied on just how injured Nazanin really was and if she could deal the final blow to Alister--and then survive long enough to enjoy that victory with myself and the other slaves.