Sariel’s head pounded as he regained consciousness. Everything was black. He struggled to open his eyes, and gradually yellow light seeped into his vision, accompanied by muffled voices.

“Guhhhh…”

Was that snoring?

He turned his head to see a woman nearby, a stranger. Sariel had no idea where he was or who she was. One thing was clear: strangers were dangerous.

He reached for his dagger, but it wasn’t there. Panic surged as he realized he was in a tent. He had to get out, but when he tried to move, there was no sensation in his legs.

His legs were gone.

The memory of the bear tearing him apart came rushing back. He should be dead…

A wave of nausea overcame him, and he managed to pull a bucket closer before vomiting into it. The taste was revolting.

After wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he heard a voice nearby.

“Finally up, huh?”

Sariel turned to see a man with black hair and a bright, confident smile. The man had an unsettling orange outline around him, and his 'vibes' was reminiscent of Neil but distinctly different.

“Who are you? And who’s she?” Sariel asked cautiously.

The man crossed his arms. “We’re the ones who saved you.”

Saved him? That’s why he wasn’t a meal for the silverback?

“The kids... two of them... did you see them?” Sariel asked.

The man pointed to a corner of the tent where Lilan and Kaoi were sleeping.

“They tried their best to stay awake,” the man said.

Relief washed over Sariel. At least they were safe. But how long had he been out?

“How long has it been?” Sariel asked, anxiety creeping into his voice.

“About six hours,” the man replied, rubbing his chin.

Six hours? That long?

Sariel glanced at his arm. The damage was gone; it looked like new. There was no way his body could heal that quickly in such a short time.

“Was I given a potion?” he asked.

A black-haired woman entered the tent, her face stern and unwelcoming, with an orange outline like the man. She also had brown leather armor.

“Yeah,” the man confirmed.

A potion... perhaps a stronger one than usual. It could heal his arm but could it do anything for his legs?

He looked down at the remains of his thighs. Without his legs, his chances of protecting himself was impossible. The hope he had left felt as if it had been shattered.

No chance left at all. He was doomed. How would he even feed himself?

Sariel turned his gaze to the kids.

They still had their limbs.

“Oh, wow, you’re awake.” The woman who had been sleeping stirred, rubbing her eyes.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Sariel remained silent, observing her every movement.

She looked young, probably in her twenties, but with a face that might make someone mistake her for a fifteen or sixteen-year-old if not for her body. Her appearance was otherwise unremarkable. Natasha, in comparison, had stood out in many ways.

She crossed her legs and addressed Sariel, “ was going to amputate it, but then the cells started regenerating rapidly. It's so damn weird.”

Sariel pondered her words. He had suspected the regeneration but wasn’t sure if it was due to the potion she had administered.

“It seems so, but I thought it was the potion you gave me,” he said.

“Eh? The potion needed to fully heal your arm would be way too potent for you.”

So his theory was wrong. How then had he managed to recover? Did his body heal differently from the norm? Had the rotting parts been replaced by new cells?

“Even if I could heal that powerfully, it wouldn’t explain how the venom in my body was dealt with. It doesn’t make sense to have such a rapid recovery after suffering so long with a rotting arm,” he reasoned.

“Yeah, when the kids told me about it, I was confused too. Maybe your immune system isn’t as strong as your regeneration. While your arm was healing, it was continually attacked by the venom until your immune system could manage it,” she speculated.

Sariel was skeptical, but he considered the possibility.

A man with black hair joined the conversation, “That could be it. Also, you had imperia residue all over your body. I guess the heat from the imperia burned away the venom, allowing your arm to heal completely since there was nothing left trying to ‘kill’ it.”

Sariel tested his arm, swinging it, clenching his fist, and scratching it. It felt real. If this applied to his arm, he hoped it would also extend to his legs. Perhaps it just took longer to heal a limb completely.

The stern-looking woman scrutinized his arm and asked, “Hmm… Are you some weird taboo hybrid? I heard about a human/Earth-human hybrid project four decades ago.”

Sariel was confused. He certainly wasn’t over forty years old.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied.

How would that even work? He could ask, but based on how she was looking at him, he didn't feel the time was appropriate.

“Whatever… weirdo.” The woman tried to soul-read him, her frustration evident when she failed, indicated by a click of her tongue. She must have tried before since that was only her reaction.

Sariel chose to ignore her and focused on a more pressing question. “Why did you all choose to help me?”

The man responded, “We didn’t. She did.” He gestured to the woman with her legs crossed. “Hira.”

Hira? Sariel hadn’t expected her to be the one to help. She seemed less physically imposing compared to the others.

“Thank you for the help. I’ll see when I’m able to leave,” he said, his gaze falling on his missing legs.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Oh? That’s like asking to be killed. It’s night, and you have no legs.”

That was a valid point, but being among strangers was probably more dangerous. Especially with the man and the stern woman having orange outlines. Hira had a white outline, though.

“Maybe his friends are waiting for him?” Hira suggested with concern.

Friends? Where did she get that idea? Or was it just a general concern?

Sariel looked at her skeptically.

“Or maybe family?” she added.

“I have no such thing,” he replied.

“Oh…”

The man yawned and walked out of the tent. “Well then, I’m going to sleep.”

Sariel nodded.

Before leaving, the man turned and asked, “How are you feeling right now? Physically?”

Physically? Depressed and hopeless, but he had to answer. His thighs hurt a bit.

“Some pain,” Sariel answered.

The man looked at Hira in confusion. “Hmm, okay.” He then addressed Hira, “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid and need saving from that silverback chief again.”

She nodded.

Chief? They had titles?

The man and the stern woman left. Sariel hadn’t learned their names. It didn’t matter.

“Sorry for the rudeness, Miss Hira. Thank you for saving me and taking care of me and the kids,” Sariel said.

If Hira’s outline was white, she seemed to be on his side, unless she had hidden motives. He needed to stay on her good side and gain her support in dangerous situations.

Hira looked away, not seeming to appreciate his thanks. “No need. You shouldn’t.”

She pointed to a white bowl. “That contains a herbal mixture to keep wounds clean. Apply it to your remaining leg wounds to prevent infection. I already gave you anti-venom for the silverback, so you’re safe from venom-related death.”

Sariel nodded. He didn’t want a repeat of his arm’s condition, if regrowth was even possible for legs.

He reached for the bowl, but it was too far.

Frustrated and feeling weak, he lamented his condition.

Hira stood up, walked over, and took the bowl. She then squatted beside him, apologizing, “My bad, I’ll do it myself.” She dipped her fingers into the thick yellow and red paste and applied it to his thigh stumps.

The paste burned, causing him to grit his teeth.

When she finished, she stood up and went outside, pausing for a moment. With a sad expression, she said, “Sorry…”

Her outline flickered between orange and white.

Did she do something to him? Was it the paste?

He felt drowsy, his vision fading.

“This isn’t right!”

“Shut up, Hira.”