JoggingSkeleton

JoggingSkeleton t1_j4yporu wrote

Slowly, I turned my head and gazed upon the lifeless bodies of my party, littered about like refuse.

We certainly aren’t legendary adventurers or mighty heroes, but for all of us to fall to a single foe is unthinkable; this demon is truly fearsome.

“What’s the matter mender? All out of spells? Your friends aren’t looking so well.” The demon mocked me, her inky black tongue slipped out of her mouth and flailed like a fish while she spoke.

Curiously, despite the grim situation, despite certain doom patiently waiting in front of me— I felt no fear. An eerie contentedness consumed me.

“Pah! Friends?” I snarled. “These bastards have been lugging me around to god-knows-where for over a year now. I’m bloody sick of them.”

I pulled the collar of my shirt down to reveal a limestone green shackle—a slaver’s collar.

“Ohh? Humans truly are ruthless, aren’t they?” She tilted her head, allowing her loose tongue to dangle freely.

“This may just be wishful thinking, but perhaps the demon army could use a world-class healer. What say you, Vakara Black-Blood?

Her obsidian eyes rounded with intrigue as she tilted her head to the opposite direction.

“You know of me?”

“Any healer worth their salt has at least heard whispers. They call you an immortal and-” I paused. “After having seen your vitality firsthand, I may have to agree.”

Vakara’s regeneration was, after all, the reason why my party had such trouble fighting her. She wasn’t much faster or stronger than your average monster, but any wound, regardless of severity, began healing instantly and would close up, usually, within seconds— even when Helga lobbed off an arm, it had completely regrown in under a minute.

Brazenly, I took a few steps forward.

“Well, how about it?” I said, presenting myself afore her. “If you don’t think I’d be useful, you can just off me like the lot of them. No point in putting up a fruitless struggle.”

The corners of Vakara’s mouth curled into a veiled smile before she began to approach me.

“Well, I can’t say-“

“YUHHHHG!”

Before Vakara could give me a response, the heavily injured Helga leapt up from her prone position and delivered a tremendous blow, wedging her axe deep into Vakara’s spine with a wet slapping crunch.

“GAHH! How on earth are you still alive?!” Vakara screeched while throwing Helga clear over her shoulder and flat onto the ground.

The impact forced a fountain of blood to erupt from Helga’s mouth.

“Tsk. I guess…” Helga began to speak mutedly, but her words trailed off as the glimmer in her eyes faded.

With Helga, once again, taken care of, Vakara’s attention returned to me. Approaching with barred fangs, it would seem she intended to take my life as well now.

“So, was that your plan then, decoy? Damn humans, can’t trust a word-“

“I’m just as surprised as you. I thought that big bitch was dead.” I spoke curtly.

“Pfft!” Stopping in her tracks, Vakara loosed a small cackle. “As far as humans go, I find you less intolerable than most but-“ She paused to pick her words. “I simply think I’m incapable of trusting one, you see.” Her eyes sharpened as she approached with killing intent.

The axe wedged deep in her back popped out with a metallic clang. Her regeneration was, apparently, slower when foreign objects were wedged inside the wound.

Prefacing with a sigh, I spoke. “Trust isn’t necessarily necessary.” I pulled up my pony-tail and revealed the crest on the back of my slaver’s collar. “Breaking out of these cursed things is nigh impossible, but with a little trickery, I should be able to imprint you as a secondary owner.”

Vakara paused and tilted her head once again. “And what of your original master? Surely their orders will take precedence.”

“Not if you kill him.”

In a very human-like manner, Vakara scratched her pointed chin as if deep in thought.

Just one more push and I think I can convince her.

“Take my offer and you’ll not only gain me as a permeant ally, but you’ll also be able to share my slaver’s collar trick with whomever you please. How many of your kin toil in eternal bondage, unable to lift a finger against their oppressors? We can free all of them.”

After some brooding, she wordlessly approached me and placed her clawed hand atop the slaver’s crest. “Ssshow me.” She slithered.

“With pleasure.” I grinned. “All you have to do is concentrate on the crest; pump all of your mana into it.” As I spoke, I crouched down and placed a hand upon her clawed foot.

“Is that…necessary?” She groaned.

“We must complete the circuit. You’ll understand soon.”

I felt her elongated claws incidentally scratching the nape of my neck, sending little shivers down my spine. It was like dancing with death; one small miscalculation, one tiny movement could spell the end for me before I even had time to realize.

With all my remaining strength, I concentrated on healing Vakara’s perfectly unharmed foot. From my position I couldn’t see the condition of her wounded back; for all I know it had already healed up and this would be my final grift.

After several minutes she barked out of impatience

“Well? Is it working or not?” She demanded answers.

“Do you know how healing magic works?” I spoke slowly, stalling for time.

“Huh?” She growled. “If I find out-“

Before she could finish speaking, she dropped to one knee, supporting her body on my neck, all while I held firm onto her monstrous foot.

“What…is this.” She spoke slowly, with great effort.

“Normally, your body is healing every part of itself at a constant rate; that’s true for mostly every living thing. The basis of healing magic is simply focusing the body’s natural ability to heal onto a single point.”

“What are you—”

“This can heal a lethal wound thousands of times faster but—” I paused, sharpening my eyes and lowering my chin. “Directing all the body’s energy to one area, in a way, completely disregards its natural ability to heal elsewhere.”

“You…Bitch…” She whispered while dropping her head and tumbling over.

She laid on the ground, motionless. Her back facing skyward I could finally see the remnants of Helga’s grievous wound; still large enough to be lethal, thankfully. Even without my intervention, her extraordinary regeneration had completely ceased—she was dead.

“Be it by death or by liberation; it seems I was fated to break my shackles today.” I thought to myself.

With trophy in-hand I started the long journey back to that wretched town. Surely, the head of a Demon Commander was enough to purchase one’s freedom.

2