I'm not going to die here.

The pair had walked away and left him on the ground, lying in a small puddle of blood that leaked from his arm.

Part of him wanted to give up and sleep, but he knew that was the fatigue from blood loss setting in.

It was getting worse now that the frozen blood was melting, and he needed to do something fast before he bled out.

He was still in shock but didn't feel as dazed as his need for self-preservation rose in defence. Pushing down the rising panic, he forced himself into action.

Using his good arm, he reached over and used his Many Form Mirage skill to create a black tourniquet similar to one he'd seen in first aid training at his old job.

As it formed, it was already set in place, and he began tightening it, gritting his teeth at the excruciating pain caused by the blood flow being cut off. When he was done, he used the slot to hold the handle. He put substantial energy into the mirage, so it should last as long as needed.

It was still early in the day, so there was plenty of light and people around, so he felt that he should be able to stagger over to the nearby sentry location and get help.

No, I can't go back yet.

Something inside him pushed against doing that, and after some thought, he forced himself to his knees, grabbed the dagger nearby and tucked it back in his belt as he stared at the arm lying on the ground.

They chopped off my arm.

It was a simple thought, but the rage that went through him threatened to burn him up from the inside out. He wanted revenge.

Rising to his feet, he stumbled over to his arm, bent down and picked it up, the rage smothering out the rising feeling of wrongness as he saw a part of him lying there.

They left me for dead.

Reaching a nearby tree, he put his back to it and slid down on the ground, nestling between large roots.

Checking his core, he noticed it still had roughly an hour until it turned over, and he couldn't do anything but wait. There was a chance that Rejuvenation would heal him, but he wasn't entirely sure.

The villagers couldn't do much to help him as they lacked a way to replace damaged limbs. He knew this from a hunter who lost a few fingers a year ago.

If he returned to the village carrying an arm as another grew back, it would only invite questions, and whilst he trusted the villagers, he didn't trust Tantalus or Rhea not to spread this.

His only option was to hide and wait to see what happened, so as he did so, he began to plan and plot.

Whatever was inside him screamed for their death, and he'd come to think of this as his inner revenge demon, but he knew things wouldn't be as simple as killing them. He needed to think long-term.

His dark side wouldn't be denied but could be mollified. Whether the revenge was fresh or cold, it didn't mind. It would let him play the long game if he genuinely meant it. After all, he couldn't lie to himself.

Part of him thought about Rhea and how she was the daughter of a close family friend, and he wanted to leave it at teaching her a lesson. Her family didn't deserve to lose their only daughter, did they?

Do mine deserve to lose theirs?

There was a war ongoing inside of him thinking about the girl, but it was something that could wait until later. There was no need to linger on the issue, even if the hate helped numb the pain.

Tantalus was a different story, and the spoilt brat was a dead man as far as his inner revenge demon was concerned. Whilst he liked Cleon, he owed the city lord nothing.

In a way, this was partly his fault. Instead of dealing with his unruly child, he sent him to Mysthaven to become their problem. He might not deserve to lose a son over it, but his actions led to this. It was hard to care, given the situation.

Did they think of my family when they left me here to die?

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After some time, he felt himself falling towards the abyss and pulled himself back with a start.

I need to stay awake.

Turning his thoughts in a new direction, he thought about everything that had happened so far. From his time on Earth until now, he reevaluated his life.

He thought of his last conversation with Paul and how his friend wanted him to find some happiness in life, whatever it was.

For a long time, even until now, he'd not truly realised what he wanted in life. He had let the waves push him where they wanted without picking a direction to swim, and today, it was time to start.

Thinking of Marcus and Valeria, he realised how much he'd grown to love the pair, which brought a little smile to his face. They had given him nothing but care and support, even though they knew he wasn't their son.

All he wanted to do now was give them a son they could be proud of, someone who could protect them instead when they needed it.

He wanted to grow so powerful that no one could threaten those he cared for. One day, he would take his father back to his family and support him in getting answers about why they exiled him from the clan. He would become so powerful that such a powerful force would have to bend to give him answers or break.

Part of him had always wanted to live forever, but deep down, he knew that was because he feared death. The fear wasn't there anymore, having already experienced those cold hands.

What he was scared of now was losing those people like his mother and father, and even the other villagers to a degree. They had become like a large extended family to him. Even with trying to keep them at arm's length, the simple people of Mysthaven had wormed their way into his heart.

He didn't fear death, but he didn't want to die. He still wanted to live a long time, maybe even forever, if the opportunity presented itself. Living forever might sound like a curse to some people, but not to him.

His world now wasn't like Earth and the mundane life there. He had many mysteries to discover and goals to achieve that weren't trying to fill a pension pot or get by financially.

Life didn't seem as pointless here. He had a fresh start and a path to follow to give him the strength to have everything he ever wanted.

It was only now he realised that whilst he had always wanted parents and to have that kind of family life he'd long coveted when seeing others. He wanted a family of his own one day, not just the kind of family he had now but children of his own.

To do that, he would need the strength to protect them and find someone worth having them with once he had that power.

Until then, he would devote as much focus as possible to chasing down that power while also remembering to stop and smell the roses occasionally.

There was no point in reaching the top if he had no one to share it with, so he swore to be more open to the idea of finding new friends.

The children around the village would probably never be that as he didn't have time to devote to it right now, but maybe he could find others in the future.

He'd also decided that once he was old enough to look after himself, he would leave Mysthaven and venture out into the world alone.

Only by going it solo would he indeed be able to grow and learn to become that towering, reliable figure he saw waiting in his future.

Doing such a thing might get him killed, but there was no easy way to walk this path without facing the danger that lined it.

*Thum*

A strange sense of being pulled outside of time washed over him, and he checked his core to see that it was turning over.

Typically, the feeling was an instantaneous flicker that caused him to sense a wrongness in time, and it was like deja vu but more intense.

This time, the feeling was magnified substantially, and he felt like he truly existed in a space that was outside the current timeline. He looked at a bird nearby and found it suspended mid-flap in the air, frozen.

Looking down at his arm on the ground and the stub, he realised they were now shimmering, as if out of focus with the rest of reality. The arm slowly faded, and as it did so, a ghostly outline grew from the bloody stump before solidifying into a real one.

A sudden jolt and the flapping of wings nearby caused him to realise that he was no longer in that strange zone.

It worked!

Lifting his arm that had been missing moments ago, he inspected it and found it to be in total working order as he clenched and unclenched his fist.

The only things different were the cut sleeve that slid down his arm and the blood. The tourniquet formed by his skill had also dissipated during the repair. Standing up, he felt a little lightheaded and suspected this was due to the blood loss.

As he felt delighted with this new ability that his core had shown, that excitement suddenly turned sour as he discovered the cost.

Checking his core, he found that this time was different, unlike the other times it turned over. It was still topped up, and all the essence he'd spent had been replaced. The downside was that it had shrunk.

Whatever energy was used by his core to repair the damage to his body came at the cost of his cultivation.

This realisation made his blood boil at losing all that hard work. It hadn't shrunk much, but it was enough to set him back a few months.

The killing intent he'd pushed away rose again, threatening to smother him as flames of hatred for the pair that had done this to him ignited.

He put his hands behind his head, took in large gulps of air as he walked around the area, and forced himself to settle down.

Revenge can wait.

What he needed to do now was come up with a story to explain everything and divert attention away from his gift, and he had the perfect one in mind.

He used the walk home to cover all the possible holes in the story as he removed his coat and tucked it into a bundle, stopping to use his dagger to remove the other tunic sleeve, shortening it at both sides.

He could not do the same with his fur coat, so he would have to hide it for now and devise a reason for the arm being cut off another day.

Walking back, he looped around his house, hearing voices as he found a crowd waiting outside.

"Ah, there he is," Marcus said as he spotted him turning the corner, causing the group to look over.

The group comprised the village head, Ajax, his parents, the two boys who carried Lysander back, Lysander's father, Tantalus, Rhea, and her parents.

At seeing Tantalus, he wanted to dive over and plunge the dagger in his belt into the boy, but he held back, promising the time would come.

"What's going on?" He asked, feigning confusion.