Chapter 13: So Close and Yet So Badly Burnt.

It had been my time to shine, or so I believed. Right up until the first Skin-Leech had grabbed my arm, in that moment I realised the creatures were a lot harder to kill after consuming their host’s corpse. I suppose all the fresh blood and wet gore was a fire-retardant of sorts. Don’t get me wrong, they died, I would have gotten 5 exp for each kill too if my bar wasn’t full.

The main issue was I nearly died too, the first creature forced itself through the flames, grabbed my arm and then lurched into me, trying to knock me down, trying to extrude it’s deceased host’s bones through its skin as either claws or quills depending on how I was wriggling. It had been a demon hunter at one point, now the hunter’s tattooed skin was stretched inhumanly by meat and fur, leaving it too squat for the amount of skin at its disposal and without eyes, teeth or any of the other things that normally dwelled within a face. Heat made fat melt and skin crisp before cracking, it looked like a terrible fate. Then the second, completely ablaze creature grabbed me.

After that I knew little other than burning, screaming and the terrible onslaught of pain, burning, damage numbers and more burning. Luna slashed, hacked and eventually dragged the Skin-Leeches off as they succumbed to my flames and then dragged me away from the burning patch of grass I’d been passed out in.

I awoke to the taste of raspberries and the rather unpleasant sensation of something viscous sliding down my throat. There was also a lot of red-raw nerve pain and the memory of being savagely beaten by a skin-sack full of dead wolf.

My mind cleared, I had to kill the mature skin-leeches! I sat bolt upright and nearly head-butted a very concerned-looking Luna who dropped an empty bottle labeled Potion of Healing in her shock. “Take it easy Jack, you got burnt pretty badly.” I looked around the meadow, 7 skin wolves lay dead all told. Luna had slain 4 with her blade and I had killed the demonic parasites at the cost of all the fuel in my pilfered lantern and a fair whack of skin that the healing potion was seemingly regrowing.

“I’m guessing that spell didn’t work out the way you wanted?”

I nodded, not quite up to talking, tongue feeling like a lump of charcoal behind my crispy lips and charcoal-stained teeth.

“Spell hurt bad”

I coughed up ash, was that cremated lung? Holy shit, healing potions were unreal. “You inhaled a lot of burning fur I’m afraid, I tried to pull you away in time but it just kept flying into your mouth and you kept gasping for air. there wasn’t much I could do about it honestly.”

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Ah, that explained the smell. I looked at my arm, it was very obvious where I’d tried to fend off my burning attackers because the skin was pink, raw with the freshness of a healing burn.

“The potion should give you enough juice to cross the meadow, come on Jack, just keep pushing.”

And so I trudged, sometimes Luna had an arm around me, other times I walked by myself out of stubbornness and she would wait patiently for my next stumble. The pain was truly extraordinary and It simultaneously turned the last leg of the journey into something torturously slow and also feverishly short.

We had almost reached the base of the mountain when we met the locals. Two men in yellowish Hauberks and carrying pikes and swords running out of the gates to assist, shouting back at the men still protecting the guardhouse. “Captain, Captain, Its Luna Delacroft, she’s alive and she brought someone in with her. He looks like he needs medical assistance.”

My mind wandered deliriously as I continued staggering on, supported now by two burly guardsmen. Would I need to spend weeks in recovery? Days perhaps? My hitpoints were down to 6 and that was after whatever the healing potion had done for me. I tried to blink away the annoying red bar flashing in the corner of my vision, I knew my health was low, I didn’t need to have it rubbed in constantly, automatically the System hid the information. I turned my attention to the other flashing icon and felt a lightbulb go off in my mind.

“Jack Wells has levelled up, HP raised from 24 to 32, Jack Wells has received the benefits of their last rest, Jack Wells has unlocked a new cantrip and received a 2 percent boost to all spells effects. Jack Wells has received knowledge of the ability Waxen Seal.”

I grabbed the cantrip Waxen Patch which allowed me to stop the bleeding debuff with the expenditure of fuel from any wax-based or non-toxic alchemical candle. Oil would not work, and neither would alcohol lamps or lanterns.

Waxen Seal on the other hand allowed me to lock doors with wax, it seemed very specific and not particularly useful until I saw it scaled with spellpower. If I understood correctly I could increase that by using better materials, better gear, increasing my spellcasting skill and increasing my class level. So I would likely make a great prison warden someday. Not really the career I wanted however.

Suddenly vitality flooded back into my limbs as the benefits I received from my last rest were applied once more, just as the level up had said. I didn’t smile as shook off the guards assistance. I did smile when my red-raw burns completely faded to the pinkish-white of old scar tissue and about 50 percent of that patchy mess rapidly healed to an unblemished state.

Name: Jack Wells Class: Spell Chandler Level: 4.

Luna looked me over. “Why didn’t you just level up before I dragged you screaming and weeping across 2 miles of shitty roads?”

I coughed sheepishly. “I’m new to this whole hero thing is all.”