Lancelot lay slumped against the bear's massive corpse, blood still leaking from the deep gashes across his back.
The claws had gone too deep. One gash in particular ran from his left shoulder blade all the way down to his hip, a mortal wound slowly taking his life. Every shallow breath sent fresh waves of agony through him. His vision was starting to blur at the edges. The world felt heavier, like gravity had decided to press down just on him.
This… this might actually kill me, he thought, a weak, bitter laugh escaping his lips.
His fingers trembled as he pressed them against the worst tear, trying to staunch the blood. It was warm. Too warm. And it wouldn't stop flowing.
The small pink crystal lay on the ground a few feet away, pulsing softly like a heartbeat.Whispers slithered into his mind again — three overlapping voices, distorted, hungry, sounding disturbingly like fragments of his own.
Break it…
Take what is yours…
It will make the pain stop…
Lancelot's hand twitched toward the crystal. He tried to pull back but the pain spiked harder, making his vision swim. His strength was draining fast. The ground beneath him felt wet with his own blood.
Just… a little… relief…
He gave in.
His fingers closed around the crystal. For one final moment, he hesitated at first, then crushed it in his fist.
The moment it shattered, everything changed.
A new feeling washed over him like a wave consuming his body. He couldn't find a word to describe what he was feeling. The closest thing was… euphoric.It wasn't just relief. It was ecstasy — warm and addictive, flooding every nerve like liquid sunlight.
The deep gash on his back stopped bleeding instantly. The torn flesh began to knit itself together with an almost obscene speed, the pain vanishing so completely it left him gasping in pleasure. His chest, which had been tearing itself apart for years, suddenly felt… whole. Light.
A low, involuntary moan escaped his throat as the rush intensified. His muscles buzzed. His senses sharpened. The world snapped into vivid focus — every leaf, every droplet of blood, every distant sound crystal clear.
For the first time in his life, Lancelot felt alive.
He laughed — breathless, almost delirious. The wounds were gone. Not even scars remained. Only a faint, glowing warmth lingered where the crystal had been.
Woah… he thought, staring at his healed hands. I… well I think I'll start listening to you guys more often?
A faint, satisfied hum echoed in the back of his mind, three voices whispering in perfect harmony.
More…
He stood up quickly as his eyes widened. His fingers quickly fished out the ghoul's crystal from his back. Under his curious gaze, the crystal glowed with an ethereal soft, pink light. Not a single crack or dent marred the crystal, despite the brutal clash that had just happened.
Fascinating. His fingers absorbed the heavenly warmth radiating from the crystal, the voices humming repeatedly in his mind. They echoed in unison like a ghostly choir in an abandoned cathedral.
He didn't fight back this time and with little effort it shattered to dust, absorbed into his body. He gasped involuntarily as another wave of euphoria hit. His pupils enlarged as he felt the warmth wrapped around him.
However, a slight difference caught his attention. It's not as potent as the bear's. Could it be that the stronger the beast, the stronger the effects of the crystal?
A rustle came from the nearby bushes, disrupting his thoughts. His eyes darted towards the sound. A bush lay there, as still as it could be. Thanks to his sense of hearing getting a small upgrade, it was easy to find where rustling g came from and why he was doubting himself.
Still riding the high, daggers instinctively appeared in his hands. He turned to the opposite direction and strode off, not even daring to turn around.
The leaves rustled in the wind as if bamboozled by his sudden cowardly move. It was silent again, only nature's voice echoed through the forest.
The bush rustled once more and from it stepped a figure. Wounded and barely clothed– a silver necklace hung around her neck, her eyes darted back and forth in search of the young man. Then with a sigh of relief, stepped out and limped towards the beast. Slumped against the corpse, she drew a heavy breath and whispered a word.
A bright green glow enveloped her, the wounds and scratches on her body slowly disappearing. Now fully healed but exhausted, she turned her crystal blue eyes to the pool of blood the young man had left. It was too much for a normal human to just heal from it like it was nothing.
Her face darkened at the thoughts that swelled in her mind. "Killing a bear is one thing but killing a beast like this is insane. It would probably take at least three gold tier adventurers to do this," she pushed back her blonde hair from her view, tucking it being her long pointy ears.
"And that smile on him," she shivered as the memory flashed, "a mad man had been set loo-" Her eyes narrowed at the beast's shadow, confused at the abnormal spike on it.
She hadn't seen any spike that had torn from its flesh so what on earth was this.
She stood turning around to examine the corpse. Her eyes wandered to the top before suddenly stopping. Her skin paled with fear at what she was seeing. Her hearing drowned in the rapid drumming of her heart.
"A mad man?" The young man asked, his voice suddenly cold, "who are you to dare call me a mad man."
Squatted on top of the bear's corpse, Lancelot glared at the young elf, his daggers tightly grasped in his hands. He didn't think that his plan would work so well. Letting the prey take the bait and circle around to catch who it was. Resisting the urge to proudly congratulate his wit, he kept his attention at the problem in front of him.
Judging by the massive claw marks on her clothes she had encountered the bear and managed to escape somehow but what was an elf doing around this part of the woods. Some of their mainland settlements were far away so what caused her to come here alone?
But what puzzled him more was the necklace she wore. It was the main reason why he hadn't attacked yet– that and he didn't know what she was capable of. Why did she have that necklace and what relationship does she have with the original wearer?
The more he asked himself the more he got frustrated and eager to know. He hoped that she had a good explanation for it. However, he didn't have a clue on how to get honest answers from her and he did not want to resort to torture.
He watched the trembling elf with a sudden amusement, a smile drawn across his lips suddenly unable to contain his expression. She fell to the ground, her shaking feet unable to support her.
Lancelot took a deep breath and sang a single line.
"Ash upon the silent air,"
The expression on the young elf's face shook his heart. His suspicion proved wrong and made him frustrated. He turned his head away, angry at himself for even thinking that would work.
"Footsteps fading into prayer,"
He turned back to her, her soft voice grabbing hold of him. The elf's body stopped trembling and a hopeful look plastered on her face.
"Chains that sing but none can see," she sang the next line more confidently, her voice a bit louder. Her eyes softened as she did.
"Dust returns to dust from me." Lancelot went to the fourth, his voice filled with hope and eagerness.
"Lance…?" she whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief and relief.
Lancelot blinked, the euphoric haze cracking just enough for shock to set in. His eyes widened, his smile softer.
"Clarrise…?"
The forest fell silent around them, as if waiting to see what would happen next.