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    Old Thousand Eyes lay butchered and broken. Its wings had been severed, leaving only blackened and cracked stumps that still slowly wept clear fluid. Its entire flank was missing too, burned and excised by the spell that had nearly cost Ianmus his life.

    It had been a broken thing when they’d first made it to the site of its crash landing. The beast had been snarling, writhing in pain as broken bones and missing limbs destroyed all semblance of threat it had once posed. It had almost been a mercy putting the bastard down.

    If only the cost hadn’t been so dire.

    Kaius glanced back to where Ianmus was still slumped over his brother’s back. Kenva had insisted he was stable, but he still felt a nervous lump in his throat at seeing his friend’s bone white complexion and the thick sheen of pink-tinted sweat off of his brow.

    They needed to find a place to make camp — wait for Ianmus to recover. He was too vital to their function as a unit, and protecting his defenceless body in a fight would stress the limits of their capabilities.

    They had something to do first, though. Claiming their well earned reward. At worst, it would be a powerful artefact that did little for their current circumstances. The value it would hold would still be vital for supporting their continued growth.

    Approaching the Champion’s carcass, Kaius drew his blade, fanning the potency of its enchantments with his bladerite. Even if the beast had been relatively fragile, his sword was still lagging without its last material; there was no point working with blunt tools.

    “Do you really think we’ll find anything? How do you know the rewards won’t be in its nest?”

    Kaius shrugged, before lashing out into a cut. The beast’s belly opened cleanly — blood and offal spilling from the incision.

    He grinned at his handiwork even as he leapt away from the grisly deluge. Its intestines were still whole, his bladework controlled enough he’d only cut exactly what he had to.

    Every hunter had at least one experience where they learned the hard way how messy that could get.

    “We’ve found them in a creature’s stomach before. Last time it was an aberration, but it’s still worth a look. I doubt the system would be so cruel as to stick our reward in some rocky hole a half league or so above us.” Kaius replied, picking his way forward.

    “Agreed. It wouldn’t be a reward if claiming it was an even harder challenge than slaying the Champion in the first place.”

    Going to his knees, Kaius grimaced as the viscera seeped into the heavy cotton of his pants. Delving was dirty work, no two ways about it.

    “A little help?” he asked, raising his brow at the ranger.

    Storing her bow and sighing, Kenva made her way forward. “I suppose it’s no different from dressing any other large game.

    Soon they were up to their elbows in guts, pulling out ropey organs, and cutting through connective tissue and gristle as they searched for the beast’s stomach.

    “Any change in Ianmus?” Kaius asked.

    It wasn’t just to take his mind off their task — the things she’d mentioned on their jog over had him worried. While he hadn’t been able to evaluate him as closely when he’d passed out after their purge of the bogglings, Kenva’s observations made it sound like whatever damage the mage had done to himself was worse than even that.

    Something beyond ‘simple’ severe manaburn.

    When they’d first arrived, Kenva had said that the mage’s soul had been guttering and wavering. That the boundary around his soul-space seemed subtly different in a way that she’d struggled to put into words. Sure, the instability had apparently stabilised quickly, but soul damage? That was serious.

    Especially when taken with the odd changes in his mana. Kenva said that his soul was still generating it, but it wasn’t acting like it should. Rather than coalescing as a cloud at the edge of his soulspace, it was permeating right through to saturate into Ianmus’s body.

    That was…not good.

    Mana saturation was no joke — even the piddly amounts he had crudely suffused himself with as an unclassed had burned. Father had always warned him that it was toxic when uncontrolled.

    With how much mana Ianmus had? It might even reach the density necessary to develop an arcane affinity. That would be…bad. Likely lethal. His stomach churned at the thought of the agony his friend would go through if he started to spontaneously develop the same affliction as his Rend around his bones.


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    Kenva gave him a long look: as if she could see his thoughts written on his face. She sighed, turning back to their task.

    “His soul is fine; back to being as solid as a rock. His mana though…”

    “What about it?” Porkchop sounded as concerned as Kaius felt.

    “I can barely sense his mana circuits, and what’s left of them is cracked and twisted — they’re not repairing either. His mana is weirder, it’s concentrating in his bones, and something about his body is changing. Even though his wounds are healed, his Health is still burning — it’s spread thinly pretty much everywhere.”

    Kaius chewed his lip. He was still injured? Externally he looked…not fine, but okay, at least.

    “Do we need to keep feeding him potions?”

    The ranger shook her head, “Whatever it is, the drain looks like it’s just barely lower than his natural regeneration. Like I said, he’s stable.”

    Kaius clenched his teeth, letting the topic drop. They had work to do, and the sooner they finished, the sooner they could find somewhere for Ianmus to recover in relative safety.

    The Champion might have scared off the normal depthsborn, but who knew how long that would last? With this much blood in the air, something would eventually come to investigate.

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