“Let’s get you healed up”

Silas approached the elf, walking towards him with a low tier potion. But as he offered him it, the elf kneeling on the ground couldn’t help but flinch. It couldn’t be helped, the deranged psycho in front of him could turn at any moment.

‘I lost it there for a second. I can’t afford to do that…’, he looked at his summoned blade.

‘But what was the trigger? Emotions were out of whack, I thought maybe it could have been stress, but it was delayed before my powers popped so it shouldn’t be that… I’ll think on it later’

The elf glared at Silas in turn, and swiftly snatched the potion from his hands. While he was about to spray it on his open wounds, he first pointed to his mouth, making Silas tilt his head before nodding.

“Sure, you can speak now”

“W-what the hell are you”, he glared before immediately pouring the potion on his wounds, clenching his teeth.

“Arghhhhh”, he seethed, his skin burning as the flesh slowly attempted to mend together. But the distance it covered was barely a single centimeter.

“W-Where did you get this?”, he spoke flusteredly, enduring the pain.

“You know how we went over the respect and honorifics yesterday?”, Silas peered at the man to observe his reaction. But the man only gritted his teeth as he looked down, averting his gaze.

“I’m… Sorry”

“Well, I don’t mind it. You were exposed to something you weren’t supposed to see…”, he peered in close to the elf, “let’s just call it even, and… Forget what you saw”, he commanded.

“How… Do you expect me to do that?”

‘Well, obviously there’d be limits to this thing’

He reigned his head back and walked over to grab a medium potion, glancing by the expressions of his onlookers. But while Ferlien wore an enraptured expression, the dwarf only stared with pity. And Thaite looked away, unaware of his penetrating gaze.

“Try this”, Silas displayed another potion before him.

Again, the elf grabbed it warily before applying it on his wounds, screaming a blood curdling song, as Silas nodded to the tune, his attention undivided on the flesh that almost closed shut.

“Do the effects really improve with direct stimuli? I’ve heard there are greater overall effects if you drink it, but it takes an elongated time to make a noticeable effect”, Silas spoke inquisitively.

All he knew were from books, and there weren’t many medic studies to begin with. Besides, he needed practical, real world experience to be sure. The effects of this potion took longer as Dromund squirmed for longer, yet he still managed to stare back at Silas aggrieved, as if to question if this was really the best time.

“Hold up, stay there”, he commanded, getting another low tiered potion, before handing it over.

“Drink it this time”, he commanded once again.

Dromund had no choice but to comply, gulping it down in one go.

Time passed as Silas never averted his gaze on the closing wound, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. He saw how the inner parts like the cut veins and such were being regenerated faster, the inside tissue repairing itself at rate visible to the eye. Or his eyes.

“Interesting”, he spoke, pointing to the narrowly open wound.

“The combined effects seem only to overlap, not enhancing but prolonging the duration. The interior is regenerating faster after you drank it, but still not quite at the rate of the exterior. Instead, the exterior is barely closing at all, but it’s produced a duration much longer than the original. Its speed exponentially decreases over time, but I think it’s still going… Hmm”, Silas flicked his finger, some of the blood that leaked from his wound appearing in the air in front of him. He pointed at the open wound.

“Please don’t”

But Silas did it anyway, pushing forward with his finger, yet the blood didn’t stop as he willed, and it shot into his leg creating another hole, forcefully stopping in its attempt to penetrate the bone.

“G---grrrr--rrrah. Please. Fffffffor f- N-no more, that’s enough, please”

‘Hm, I tried to put the blood back, but it doesn’t appear I can stop it. If I could heal myself naturally I wondered if I could manually heal him too, guess not… Or maybe not yet? Gifts grow as you use them, until their max rank. Mine was of Light Platinum if I recall, and started at Light Iron... Lots of room for growth’

“I only made a small hole”, Silas decided to console him.

“The potion I fed you will heal your body overtime, including the new wound… I think. So just wait it out and heal. You can watch from the sidelines now”

“No, it’ll-”

“Stop talking”, he commanded, “stay still”.

‘We'll see if it does later, but I need to worry about my powers for now. Speaking of which, his flesh recovered but what of his blood? I could couple it in the future if potions restore that… Probably if drunk rather than applied since the latter showed no evidence of it’

“Ferlein”

He swiped some blood leaking from his mouth, wondering how long it would take for his injuries to recover. The elf hit him hard, but he couldn’t help but contemplate to what extent the tier of his strength opposed to his own endurance had. Yet it wasn’t a focus of his, for now.

The woman in question opened her eyes wide, a curiosity sparkled as she cocked her head to the side. She seemed to have been enjoying the show for a time, but upon realizing she was next, she internally sighed and resigned herself to her fate.

“Come here”

Given permission, she found herself able to move. After checking her arms and legs, her footsteps started moving to her destination. But as she closed her distance to him, she noticed a gaze by her side turning to witness Thaite’s I told you so look, that was mixed with a dejected expression.

She seemed to contemplate something as she did as instructed, standing before him and turning around so that her back may face him. She dropped to her knees making herself at a lower height disadvantage, and lowered her gaze as she proceeded to strip her top off, followed by the hood she wore.

Upon the reveal of her back, she had exposed her many scars to all. But Silas, having grazed it before, only sighed and questioned her extravagant actions. She performed the act as if almost a routine to her, and he knew the commands she obeyed were only based on what she perceived was true.

While curious, he was not bothered to question why she took this specific approach, as it suited him just fine. He watched the hairs on her back tense as if to acknowledge the sounds when he brandished his gleaming red dagger.

Down the blade came, as he slashed at her back without remorse, painting a new scar that added to her collection. She gritted her teeth, her ears drawing downwards as her skin hardened, her experienced body trying to endure the pain.

He drew a measure of blood with his summoned blade before lifting his arm, the blood, even that of which continued to spill out, slowly floating into the air to gather and form a floating orb.

‘It seems I can’t draw out any blood until it exits the wound’, he noted before splitting his attention to the small orb that slowly multiplied to the size of a baby's fist.

Remembering how he had formed multiple spears when he came to, he envisioned the splitting of the blood orb. Yet nothing happened, the blood sphere only continuing to grow in place.

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He recalled from his experience in the theory of magic books he had read in the past. How mages sometimes chanted syllables to better express and conceptualize the formation of their magics. While magic was actually formed from a sort of formula within a mana heart, a magic space pocket that resided behind the heart. It was a method often resorted by novice mages to more easily envision the formula they would have to answer in their mana hearts; though it was a method conceived for any mage when applying newly learned formulas.

While his blood magic didn’t seem to operate under a formula or have any distinction with his mana heart. He wondered if he needed to conceptualize his magic better, so he spread his fingers apart while again willing for the orb to separate. This time it did, as two trails split apart from the orb to form the spears he had originally envisioned. As the trail connected to them from the orb parted slowly, the spears floated a distance beside Silas’s head.

He peered over at a tree, one of many that loomed around them, flicking his wrist so that both spears shot towards it. The tree was fairly thick, and the two blood spears seemed only to dent it, carving through the bark with two separate marks.

Silas couldn’t help but compare it from the stone he tried to penetrate whilst drunk. His spears were lower individually in volume, but greater if combined, but other than the visible dent it didn’t achieve much like when it had impacted the stone man's skin.

His attention was drawn on the bloody remains below the tree, he raised his hand again but the blood splatter did not seem to want to listen to him.

‘So it’s a one and done attack, huh?’

He carved another cut into her skin, allowing the blood to seep upwards into another orb from both open wounds. But whilst she was being drained, he turned his back to get another medium grade potion, whereby he leaned over her shoulder and poured the drink into her lips. As she gulped down the contents some liquid spilt, a dribble forming as it collected itself in a mass to trail down her lips to her chin, leaking onto her ample breasts.

Silas crept back to examine her skin, finding that it was closing again at such a slow rate much the same as Dromund’s. He cleaved into her skin again, opening another wound that he inspected closely to confirm that it was also affected by the potion.

He turned around, the collected orb elongated into a spear. As he shot out his hand, the spear reciprocated, hurling into another tree. This time the impact parted the bark with ease as it caused it to delve deep into the log before splattering away.

“Galgael, Thaite, come here”

The two moved beside Ferlein, squatting down and taking off their upper garments in equal measure. It seemed they had been influenced by the woman’s display, thinking it the approach that Silas whimsied.

However the boy paid it no mind, instead dropping the dagger in his hands, to acquaint himself with another weapon, alas an unexpected thing happened. His dagger disappeared, much to his confusion, but he caught on and felt with his hand again, as if gripping something nonexistent, yet that action manifested it back into his hand. He dropped it again and did the same motion with his other hand, awakening it there as well.

He nodded his head at such a feature, then let go of it again, and proceeded to collect all the weapons off of each of them. All bought weapons he brought in a pile behind them, including the shield, sword, pair of daggers, as well as the bow and quiver.

It was only after wielding the sword, aiming it for a cleave, did he remember something.

‘The dagger that I use… It isn’t the same as the knife I had when I faced Freija, or Leo for that matter…’

He let go of one hand from the sword, manifesting the dagger into it. He switched his gaze from the red gleaming dagger, and the fresh iron sword.

‘Maybe…’

He willed for the sword, using his power on it as he let go of the dagger. The bloody radiance it permeated disappeared from its blade as it dropped to the grass, being transferred in an instant to the sword.

‘It works!’

Silas dropped the sword de-summoning it, and manifested it again thereafter.

‘It really works. This is the type of ability I had expected from my gift, Blade of Judgment… So then why can I use blood?’

But that was a question he had no answer to. The only ones he could, were how to better understand this ability. So with that thought, he continued to deal a flurry of blows on the backs of each of them, using all other weapons while switching between, and not using his summoned blade. They all produced the effect he desired as he drew blood from their wounds. While bloody and bruised, Silas hadn’t enough as he proceeded to the last weapon, the bow.

Once again keeping to the pattern of trying to equip it as his summoned weapon, he found that it didn’t work, instead only the arrow he held with the bow disappeared, and the shield he had tried last disappeared to the floor. He tried again without the arrow in his hand, yet it still wouldn’t work.

‘Does it not work with something wooden? Must it be made from iron, no… From an ore? But what if the bow had iron decor on it? Clearly the arrow tip is enough’

He chuckled in thought as curiosity overwhelmed him, ‘wait then…’.

He aimed his sights at a distance, but he had never wielded a bow before. He shot it, and the string kicked back, hitting his finger as he shook it in pain. But he looked forward to the red tipped arrow he had just launched, finding that it had disappeared when it took from his grip.

Silas sighed, ‘yep, an arrow won’t work. It disappears as soon as I lose contact, it’s a dud’.

He picked up a dagger and changed it to his summoned blade. He then aimed again at the back of the dwarf, shooting it again, while observing the arrow he had let loose. It missed his target by a wide margin, and hit a tree before him.

‘Maybe a little dangerous’, he couldn’t help but realize.

As if his impulsive shot had landed through their heads or throats, that was a wound a simple healing potion would not fix. He closed the distance standing behind them and trying again with less power.

The arrow ended up embedded in the dwarfs shoulder, gritting his teeth in response, but of course as he was not facing Silas, the feat went unnoticed. He wouldn’t have cared anyway.

But the result ended up a little unexpected, as the blood he drew from the dwarf was not something he could wield. He tilted his head in that moment, taking the same arrow and plunging it in the open wound. Now the blood seemed to be utilized, floating and collecting into the sphere he had amassed from their torment.

‘Wait, if it’s only something I can directly affect…’, his thoughts trailed onwards as he issued another command, placing the dagger in the hands of Thaite.

“You, stab her”, he pointed at Ferlein.

Both hers and the dwarfs' bodies seemed to be more durable, a note from the attributes he witnessed in their examination period, and one he abused in this instance. Such that they had received the worst of his brutality.

The dagger plunged into her back, and Thaite left it there as he took a step back huffing in frustration. He wanted to say he was sorry, but his voice would not allow it.

But Silas was uninterested in the sentimental moment as he took a step closer and peered at the blood emerging from the embedded blade. It didn’t seem to be utilizable either, so he took the hilt and pushed it out. Then, the blood participated like all other wounds.

But Ferlein was not left unscathed, as the blood loss seemed to take a toll on her, and she weakly flopped to the ground.

‘It seems I’ve pushed her a little too far, that potion I gave her clearly hasn’t been regulating her blood’, he thought as he glossed over her earlier wounds, of which had half way closed up, and continued in its attempt to do so.

But his attention was placed elsewhere as he gave the dagger back to Thaite, interrupting his silent apologies as he issued another command.

“Cut me”, he extended his arm.

Thaite seemed to glare at him, as he immediately readied the knife. As if intent on getting some sort of revenge he swung the knife as fast as he could, but Silas interrupted, squinting.

“Shallowly”

The knife's momentum deaccelerated as Thaite’s arm crept to regulate a precise motion.

Swwwip.

As the blade cut into his flesh, Silas gritted his teeth but grinned as he realized the blood trailing off in the air.

“Good, you are all free from responsibilities now, be sure to heal yourselves up”, he spoke dismissively as he stared at the giant mass of blood.

He ignored the wails and grunts of the others as they collaborated around the fallen woman, and scurried off with her, to the side. The blood ball above where she once sat, was half the size of an adult’s head, and Silas couldn’t help but wonder at the imposing amount of power it may display.

“You’re a fucking monster”, he heard Thaite speak.

“Don’t go aggrieving the lad further, just provide the potions, focus on the lass…”, Galgael responded.

But Silas proceeded to ignore them, distracted with more meaningful thoughts.

‘So it is just as I thought, only from wounds I inflict, or that come in contact with me, can I use this power to ends…’

He swirled the ball of mass in the air, moving in a circle. He then split off a portion of blood and hastened the speed until he realized he lost control, and it shot forward. He tried to reign his hand back to stop the attack mid-flight, to no avail as the blood spear continued rushing into the tree.

‘Well, to ends that I’m not quite content with yet. But it’s a start for now… I’m sure with practice I can maneuver it better. But for now all I’ve left to do is figure out what the limits, and the on and off switch is for this thing’.

The mass of blood slowly made its way, floating just above the palm of his hand, as he examined the bulging red mess closely. It seemed he would have enough for a decent amount more of experimentation, while his subjects rested and recovered.

Thud

“Hm?”

He felt a sudden tremor beneath his feet.

Sniff Sniff.

Silas looked around him, but he was surrounded by trees. He glanced over his slaves, but they were too busy checking on either their own, or Ferleins wounds.

Boom

Kweck, kweck. Screech, Screeee.

The ground trembled again, some birds seemed to squawk and flee from the foliage. This time the elf seemed to have noticed something was up. Clearly something of a heavy mass was approaching this way.

Creak. Sniff sniff.

The trees parted as a snout eased its way through. A pair of yellow gleaming eyes, accompanied by a glowing green antennae, emerged from the treeline shortly thereafter.

Silas glanced at his blood ball, then slowly looked back at the creature. It was a Carrigorn, a type of giant mole with bad eyesight, and a heightened scent. And it was attracted to blood.

“Fuck”, Silas couldn’t help the urge to curse.

It seemed a more pressing matter demanded his attention. His experiments would have to wait.