Chapter 16

  When You Realize Your Mistake Too Late

  “Wait, mother no!” Were the last words I cried out, before I saw literal death coming for me.

  In that instant, time seemed to slow down to a crawl, as my mind took in everything. The left-handed use of casting a Necrotic Fireball. The way frame of the person I had mentally called to as mother was slightly skinnier, a fact that was only noticed now. The way they wore a mask as if to hide their features, even though their bright all too familiar purple blazer told me who they were, or at the very least who they should be.

  My mind processed the differences, the way the ankles didn’t quite fit into the thigh high boots, the way the clothes seemed loose over the skeletal frame.

  Then in an instant time began to speed up and I realized my mistake instantly. Rather than taking that moment to focus on a counter, to find a way to avoid the imminent attack, I wasted the opportunity to observe the world around me. Maybe it was my mind already accepting the fact that I would die. That Necrotizing Fireballs don’t kill you from the impact, they kill you from the fact that they continue to burn away your skin well after the spell should have burnt out. Then even if you survive the first part, all skin touched will be necrotized and forced to be cut off before it can spread further. A slow death.

  A slow death caused by a skill that has been banned. Anyone found to have the Skill in their active slots, or worse, as a Completion badge were to be reported and arrested on the spot. For a time, the only exception to this were there Necrotins, who had this Skill as one of their Awakened Bloodline variant Skills available.

  My mind of course chooses this time to deliver up all types of useless facts related to Necrotic Fireballs. I know that the spell costs a lot of Mana and life force of the user to cast, meaning it will likely only be used in sparing blasts. If I can get away, I might be able to survive as I know no one can cast more than ten of these at a time. Even then the tenth would be a final life for life curse cast by the caster. My mind instantly recalls the fated duel between House Necrotin’s Leader, and the leader of House Golden. One where both noble houses lost their leaders in a duel to the death.

  Blink.

  I am already trying to move, though my actions are slow and sluggish as well. As if I too am somehow caught up in this gradually speeding time paradox. Survival instincts are kicking in, forcing me to move, to roll, to resist.

  This is their second casting of Necrotic Fireball, meaning they should already be experiencing some form of wear. Not that them being tired matters for right now, as the spell is already released in the air, and I am still stuck like a burnt-back turtle trying to roll my way up and out of danger.

  I am up and manage just a half roll out of the way, before I feel the eerie cold heat of the Necrotic Fireball. Heat to bur away the skin, and cold to erode the soul, my mind is suddenly reminded of a commercial from my world. Then shaking my head in pure instincts, I drop curling up into a tight ball. Knees up high, and my arms braced in a defensive boxing stance before my face.

  FWABOOM!

  “Ahh!”

  Off in the distance someone is crying out in ravenous pain. Only after a second do I realize that person is me.

  Crunck-slush.

  The attacker doesn’t even stop to ensure I’m dead, as I can already hear their footsteps walking away on the rotting logs and leaves that litter the ground. Still, I do take some pride in the fact that their actions are slightly labored, a sign that maybe two was a bit too much for this caster. That or their constitution wasn’t as capable as the Necrotin Leaders of old.

  Still, I refuse to give in, everything burns, but the one that hurts the most is the one on my back. Focusing on it, I realize something.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Cackle.

  A mad laugh escapes from my lips, as I realize I might have a solution. I had been panicking so much that I forgot to take a step back and focus on the answers before me.

  That’s when I realize that I can latch onto the foreign energy trying to burn its way through my skin at this very moment. I can grab it, and treat it like I do with everything else that has been freely discarded by others.

  Trash.

  It’s not the correct use of the Skill, but then again I don’t know what the correct use of the Skill should be. Or rather, I don’t like putting these Skills into a category where and how to use them.

  Within seconds I feel my mana burning way, but with just two points of Mana, I burn away the small remaining whisp of pain that was eating away at the skin on my back.

  With that one done, I begin focusing on my front. Both knees and shins were hurt, my hands were hit, and my arms were also hit.

  Shiver.

  The burning pain is so intense that it take all my effort to focus through the pain and focus on the fact that I even have Skills, that I need to actively engage them for them to be used.

  Focusing, I direct my mind and attention towards the wounds and once again use Trash.

  Almost instantly, the burning pain ceases. Then after time, my mind slowly relaxes, as the pain coursing through my body. I’m not done though, focusing on my minor list of Skills, I realize just how weak I am. Despite having multiple Skills and even managing to max out a few, I am rather limited. Yet, there is one that I had been feeling might have been a mistake for a while now. Of course, only moments like this show how perceived mistakes can become future boons if allowed to take root and manifest correctly.

  For right now, I can still feel the slow lingering pain of the Necrotic residue taking root within my skin. Dark jaundiced colored skin surrounds wounds that are unnaturally purple and oozing infected green puss. My body is fighting, but it will lose.

  At least, it should lose, but that’s when my body begins using my niche Skill Mana Extraction on its own. The effect is almost instant, as I can feel the necrotizing burn begin to fade away, as the green jaundiced colored skin begins to fade. Even the darker purple of my burn marks begins to fade, leaving behind just burnt and exposed raw skin.

  It’s not enough, as I can feel my body still convulsing now that all I can feel is cold air gently blowing against my exposed skin.

  Quiver.

  I am in so much pain that my body is shaking. For a moment I think about getting up, about trying to leave, but it’s too much. It hurts too much.

  All I can do is lie down, letting my legs stretch out so they don’t heal poorly. Even trying to find a way to fall on my right side, so my burnt and painful left shoulder is exposed.

  Drip-dropple.

  Even now I can feel the sickening texture of dirt and debris falling from the wound from when I desperately tried to roll on the ground to put out the fire.

  How stupid I was, had I just remembered my Skill Trash then, then it might not have gotten so bad. I might have been able to prevent some of this damage. I might have even been able to avoid dropping to the ground and managed a successful evasion or even a counter.

  My mind races through probabilities, I know that if I go to sleep now, my body will likely go into shock. Medical knowledge from my past life chooses now of all times to help walk me through what could happen if I give up here. The only problem is that I am in too much pain to move.

  Instincts tell me to wait here long enough to heal and then leave. Maybe once wounds congeal enough, I can walk out without having to worry too much about bleeding to death. As it is now, I can feel how every movement, every breath sends pain through me as scabbing skin is ripped apart, only to be melded back together.

  Fortunately, my right elbow is relatively safe. I say relatively as the burn my right arm suffered was a bit higher up towards the mid forearm area, meaning I can use my elbow as an anchor to keep me from rolling too much. From there, I just grab my burnt arms, arms that already have the woolen fabric of my blazer healing into my puss covered wounds.

  It’s bad.

  Worse, I am having a harder and harder time focusing. All I can do is try to understand what happened.

  Why did I think she was my mother? Other than the laugh and clearly being dressed in house DiVoratore colors, they were off. That and the fact that the attacker didn’t speak? That was also odd. If it truly was my mother, she would have stayed and watched the fire burn out of my eyes.

  In a way, that might have been a kindness, as this pain is unbearable.

  The only bright side is that it is cold enough outside that most insects have begun hibernating for the year. Meaning I don’t have to deal with fighting off the insects from drinking my blood. Glass half full.

  Chuckle.

  I laugh at my own attempt for humor, which is bad, as it cause my body to move and my healing skin to pull apart every so quickly.

  The sun is going down. At this rate, I might have to try to survive through the night with the temperature dropping, and my body already losing a lot of heat due to all the exposed skin from my clothes being ripped and torn.

  Finally, I get to a point where I can’t even keep my eyes open any longer. Not that it matters, as I can barely make out the shapes I had once seen easily.

  The only thing that I can still see clearly right now is the giant tree. A tree that I tried to hide behind. Honestly, I’m glad I didn’t use it as a shield, looking at it, it seems to almost glow to my eyes.

  “Thank you, for the branch.” I finally manage to tell the tree. For a moment, I wonder if it could have dropped another branch on the Necrotic Fireball caster. Then I realized that would have been a death sentence for the tree, as the caster might have forced a third Necrotic Fireball at this tree, likely killing it.

  Darkness.

  I finally close my eyes when I can’t see the differences between trees and sticks around me. The only way I know my eyes are closed is that I feel a slight relief in my eyes as they are once again able to retain moisture. Only now do I realize how thirsty I am.

  Chuckle.

  I laugh softly to myself, not wanting to cause too much undue pain. At this point, I’ve decided that if I somehow wake up from this in the morning, I will be even more dedicated to living this second life correctly. I will grab every opportunity that comes my way, and yes, I will get revenge.

  Crunch-slush.

  The sound of a large entity walking through the dense debris that litters the ground can be heard. Hearing it, I realize my attempts at revenge are short lived, as that has to either be a predator, or worse the same Necrotic caster, coming back to finish the job, now that they have had time to recover.

  Realizing that whatever happens next is entirely out of my control, I finally relax and let my wear body rest as all-consuming exhaustion overtakes me.

  Darkness.

  Quendolayne for this first of two early chapters.

  Chapters currently available (1 / 2).