Just as predicted, by the time the already wounded wolf realised that there was something else also sapping its strength, it was too late. With a wall of dense, thorny bushes behind it, it had no option but to attempt to flee past Symon.
To describe it as running would be overly generous. Instead, it stumbled drunkenly, completely defenceless as Symon's club slammed into its side and knocked it down into the thick mat of fallen leaves that coated the forest floor.
Idly, Symon realised that it must be Autumn, ignoring the creature's whimpers and yelps as it struggled to stand up. It was hard to have any pity for it, not when its packmate had enveloped him in an inferno so recently. It had been completely unprovoked, at that.
Instead of empowering the draining like he'd originally planned, he instead allowed it to continue passively as he focused on his healing. His vessel was full now, the excess being used to inefficiently increase its maximum capacity. It would be better to heal himself completely, then spend any extra he had on expanding the vessel. He still wasn't sure how that worked.
"Keelgrave," he thought, "do me a favour and keep an eye on my vessel. Let me know if anything changes."
"Yeah, yeah, just tell me what you see when the storage size increases," Symon said as he looked out over the battle. Part of him felt bad about just watching, but it would be better for him to heal up to full before joining the fight. Besides, they looked to have things well in hand. Aslan was still squared off against one as he slowly whittled it down, while Safiya had already killed hers. It was already dead, but she continued to stab and slash at it over and over again. Meanwhile, Atabek was... wrestling with the remaining wolf. He was winning.
Symon took in a breath of fresh air, savouring the way the cool air slid down his freshly healed throat. He'd gulped down flaming air before, but there was no longer any pain. The remaining surface-level wounds had also been healed, leaving behind fresh, pink skin. Soon, even that would disappear, with no trace of his wounds left on his body.
Not long after, the wolf he'd been stealing the vitality of finally expired. It had been still for a while, but he noticed it was dead once the threads detached and began draining a nearby tree. Even with a full vessel, his magic was never sated, sluggishly attempting to gorge itself evermore.
Keelgrave hadn't commented on anything changing, and Symon suspected it was because he hadn't gotten an increase to the capacity in the first place. He needed a lot of vitality to raise it, after all, and his healing had consumed more vitality than he'd expected.
Something to do with the type of damage? It's a lot easier to seal a cut than to replace burned skin, Symon thought. It made sense to him, but he also knew his magic didn't follow the normal healing process he was used to. Another thing for me to try and figure out later.
By now, the battle was all but over. Safiya had finished with her foe, and had ambushed the one Aslan had been facing off against. Together, they'd made quick work of it.
That left only Atabek, who had also defeated his opponent. He had it in a headlock, its paws ineffectually scraping at the dirt. It looked like the battle was over.
"Well, good job everyone," Symon said. "Does anyone need healing?" He noticed Atabek had some minor burns, but the others appeared uninjured. Still, it was good to double-check.
Safiya shook her head, a smile on her face as she gazed intensely at the fallen opponents.
"We two are fine, but perhaps Atabek could use some assistance," Aslan said.
Hearing his name, the big man perked up. "Symon," he said simply. Then, he pointed at the ground, right in front of the still-struggling wolf.
What does he... oh, I see.
Symon approached them, the wolf letting out a low whine in warning. Atabek gave it a thump on the head. Once more, he couldn't bring himself to have much pity for the creatures, not after they'd attacked him first, and not when their attacks were so painful.
When he got close enough, he guided the thread to the wolf, allowing it to start working on something more substantial. It would be a minute or two before it was weakened enough to where Atabek could release it.
"Thank you," Symon said in Dumosi. The big man smiled back appreciatively, and Symon gave him a pat on the shoulder. He had to reach up to do so, transferring a few units of vitality over in the process. The grin on his face widened further as the surface-level burns healed before their eyes.
It was much easier to see the fresh, pinkish skin change to match the rest of him on his darker friend. Why doesn't it just grow back matching already? Why the extra step? He had yet more unanswered questions.
"Are you alright, friend Symon?" Aslan interrupted. "You seem fine now, but before..."
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Symon waved them both off. "I'm fine, nothing a little vitality couldn't fix." There was one casualty, though. His new clothes.
His hat had been blown away during the fighting, but he saw it sitting on a bed of leaves, undamaged. The same couldn't be said for his shirt, as the entire front of it had a large, blackened hole, exposing his less-than-muscular chest. Hey, my stomach looks flatter. If I squint, I can almost see my abs.
At least his pants were mostly fine, just a bit of char around the waistline. He'd have to get a new shirt, but that wasn't a big problem. After healing the mayor and giving some of his earnings to the others, he was still left with eight gold coins.
He wasn't rich, but by the standards of Brackstead... he kind of was. A miner earned something like two gold a month, and that was for long days of back-breaking labour. It had taken Symon only a few minutes to heal the mayor.
"Hmm, I think I understand why most healers just take cushy jobs in a big city. They don't have magic like I do, though," he said to his spirit companion.
"Come on, it wasn't that bad. It's usually not the fire that kills, it's the smoke, and I'm not going to suffocate from the equivalent of a bonfire in an open forest."
"Yeah, you breathe in the smoke, then you pass out and suffocate to death. Straight-up burning to death takes a long time, and I don't even have to deal with infections, which are a big danger too." Symon hardly enjoyed the feeling of being on fire, but if it was necessary to win quickly and he knew he could heal himself back to normal after, he thought it was worth it. In this case, his friends were probably strong enough that he could have just sat things out, but he hadn't known that going into things. It had been entirely possible that another dozen flamethrower wolves would show up, and then he'd regret not fighting back with all he had from the very start.
By now, everyone's nerves had settled after the fight. They were all in a close circle, which included Symon for once. He could get as close to the others as he wanted, as long as the wolf stayed alive and kept his thread occupied.
"Are we all good to continue in a few minutes? I didn't realise the monsters in this part of the forest were this strong, so there's no shame if we want to head back," Symon said.
"We can continue," Aslan said. "Emberwolves are only a moderate threat, and I find it unlikely anything stronger lives in this forest. If it did, Brackstead wouldn't still exist."
Symon decided that Emberwolves sounded much nicer than Flamethrower Wolves. "Alright, just give me a bit to finish draining this one and check my Ledger. Oh, and the range increased, so be careful. For reference, I can just about reach that plant," Symon said, pointing at a bush around five metres away.
Aslan nodded and disseminated the information, while Symon checked over the others just in case they were putting on a brave face.
"Is your arm okay? It looked like it took a bunch of fire, but it didn't seem to hurt you."
"It didn't. It's a good shield, and I have the Passive to help out," Aslan said.
"Oh, interesting. It just... blocks heat?"
"Yes, it's a shield." Aslan shrugged as if it explained everything.
"Fair enough," Symon said. He wasn't about to complain about helpful magic. However, it was worth considering how high the Passives had to level before they started doing blatantly magical things. His Swords passive just made him a little better at fighting with a sword, while Aslan's Shields passive could violate the laws of physics, albeit in a fairly minor way.
Still, even minor reality warping was impressive. Keelgrave had given him an estimation of their skill levels before, but this narrowed things down. It only took a single skill evolution to be considered on that step, so the others must have been first steps, likely less than 30 on their highest skills. Symon's highest was already more than half that, which he found to be excellent progress. He'd check his Ledger soon, but there was something else he wanted to figure out while he had the chance.
"Safiya," he said, and the woman whipped her head over to face him. She'd been keeping a lookout for more emberwolves, just in case that wasn't all of the pack. "Your eye," he started, pointing to his to make sure she understood. "It was a wolf, right?"
She nodded, then dragged three fingers down her face. "Wolf go. Now..." she frowned, trying to find the right word.
Aslan sighed and stepped in. "Yes, it was a wolf, just a normal one. It attacked her when she was young."
She'd certainly taken her anger out on that thing, stabbing it over and over again, long past the point of death. Symon wasn't sure what to say, so he just kept his mouth shut. He didn't know if she just hated them now for taking out her eye, or if it was something deeper. She didn't seem that bothered now, but she'd been almost rabid in the moment.
Before he could consider anything else, the wolf that Atabek had pinned down for him finally stopped struggling. Knowing he didn't have long before the creature died and his magic was once more unleashed, he quickly thanked Atabek for his help with another clap on the shoulder before moving away.
"I'm just going to check over my Ledger real quick," Symon said. "I won't go far."
Aslan gave him a nod. True to his word, Symon only took a couple extra steps away from them once he was out of draining range and summoned his Ledger.
[ Status:
Name: Symon
Class: Cursed Healer
Strength: 0.95 {+0.02}
Constitution: 1.31 {+0.06}
Acuity: 0.99 {+0.02}
Intelligence: 1.02 {+0.02}
Will: 1.31 {+0.08}
Vessel (Vitality): 20/20 {+2}
Abilities:
Idealise (19) {+3}
Seize (16) {+3}
Essence Bond (13) {+1}
Passives:
Anatomy (4) {+1}
Bleeding Resistance (3)
Languages (10)
Pain Resistance (14) {+6}
Poison Resistance (3)
Running (8)
Swords (4) {+1} ]
"Holy shit," Symon breathed, "that's crazy. Six levels of Pain Resistance, just from that."
"Funny," Symon chuckled softly. "Why didn't I get Fire Resistance, though?"
Keelgrave sighed.
"Well, it bumped my Constitution up a bunch, so I suppose even without the Resistance I'll still be able to handle fire better. There's nothing special for getting my vessel up to a maximum of 20, though, that's a shame."
Well, Symon wasn't complaining. Being lit on fire sucked, to say the least, but he couldn't argue with the results.