Apocalypse Healer - Path of Death

David was supposed to be angry at their betrayal. He should curse at them as they escaped and left him to die. It should have shocked him and made him feel like Jack and Flora had swatted him square in the face, knocking him out and making him lose faith in humanity.

But at this moment, David couldn't care less. His life was on the line. Allowing emotions to take full control of him would probably kill him.

It was not that their support didn't matter. Maybe he would have betrayed someone else in their situation too. There were too many enemies, each stronger than anything their group had faced before. He would survive. Whether Jack and Flora helped him wasn't important.

He was already on the verge of death, fighting desperately against Kobolds while more were trying to overwhelm him. The only important fact was that David's heart was still beating. He was still alive!

Trusting someone as rotten as Jack had been stupid. David made a mistake—a grave one. He acknowledged his foolishness and accepted the consequences of his actions.

He rolled on the ground, escaping the first attacks, and thrust his sword upward. The blade in his left hand slashed deep into the Kobold's tail, inflicting little damage compared to his other attack. David had moved instinctively and didn't expect the sword in his right hand to connect with the other Kobold's chest.

The blade pierced through one of the few soft spots unprotected by scales, lodging too deeply for David to retrieve while lying on the ground. His eyes narrowed as he let go of the blade in his right hand and kicked the Kobold. The creature screamed and squealed in a foreign language, but David ignored it.

He jumped up as a third Kobold clawed at him. Blocking the attack, the blade in his left hand cut into the Kobold's claws. The creature didn't seem to mind the injury, instead grasping the blade tightly and shoving it aside.

A moment later, the Kobold's head shot forward. David braced himself for a bite, but that assumption proved another mistake. Instead, he experienced a fierce headbutt.

The impact wasn't a joke. David gasped as their heads collided, and something in his skull cracked. Blood streamed down his face as his mind turned foggy, and he swayed for a moment. He nearly allowed the Kobold to disarm him, but his body seemed to switch to autopilot.

His hair stood on end, and a newfound surge of power from his up-rank coursing through him. He grabbed his sword firmly in both hands, and burst forward, his body transforming into a cannonball. With one powerful strike, he severed the Kobold's claws.

David steadied his breath as he turned around. His vision was obscured by the stream of blood pouring down his face. His head throbbed like it was about to burst, and the wounds he had tended to earlier tore open again. Still, his movements weren't restrained, and his will remained unbroken.

Something blue glistened in the distance. It was faint, barely noticeable, but David remembered what had happened only moments earlier: Sebastian had been impaled, killed instantly after he'd seen the blue flashes.

More spears!

David pushed to the side, using the clawless Kobold as cover. The creature was still screaming, though not for long. A loud noise rang out, overshadowing its cries, and it froze mid-scream. The noise stopped abruptly as the Kobold jolted once, a spear blade protruding from its chest.

David acted quickly. His blade twirled, slicing the Kobold's throat to ensure it couldn't lash out in a desperate attack.

[You have defeated Kobold (Iron III).]

[You have defeated Kobold (Iron IV).]

The second message came as a welcome surprise. The Kobold he had gutted earlier was dead.

The Kobold before him collapsed to its knees, the spear of one of its brethren still embedded in its back. It had served as a great meat shield.

David braced himself for another volley of spears. Instead, more Kobolds emerged. Some had red, almost crimson scales, while others bore brown scales of varying shades. But none of that mattered right now.

David had heard a ringing in his ears after the Kobold headbutted him, but it had disappeared suddenly—just like every other sound.

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He could have sworn he heard the snarling and groaning of Infected earlier, but now there was nothing. The world around him turned eerily, unnervingly silent. David couldn't hear anything—not even his own thoughts.

Even the vibrations in the ground as the Kobolds charged forward were gone.

His senses… disappeared?!

No, that couldn't be it. Panic surged through him like a tidal wave. For a fleeting moment, David couldn't tell what was happening. But no—he wasn't blind. He could still see and move, even as the world shrank into a muted, indistinct blur.

However, it didn't feel like the sight belonged to him. It was as if his senses no longer belonged to him.

David didn't panic at the realization. He didn't lose his mind. Instead, he embraced the feeling as it surfaced.

So what if he was going to die here? At least he had given his utmost. David had tried hard. He gave everything he had. But what was he supposed to do if his body stopped listening to him? If it started to feel alien to him?

No!

David screamed from the bottom of his heart. He was not going to die here. He wasn't ready to die yet! David had barely earned his freedom.

Give up? Not now. Not after fighting like this. Not after enduring so much!

His senses didn't clear up, but his body kept moving. David moved. He evaded the incoming attacks with surprising precision and counterattacked. He bled badly. His tracksuit clung to him, soaked in sticky crimson, and his sneakers squelched with every step. Every inch of his body was covered in wounds and smeared with his own fresh blood.

But David didn't slow down. Instead, he sped up.

He wasn't dead yet and refused to die to some reptiles!

David couldn't see how many Kobolds were left, but he felt their claws and weapons. They pierced his skin and cut deep into his flesh. Some attacks reached his bones, while others left wide gashes designed to bleed him out. It should have hurt, but all David felt were faint touches on his skin and the constant pouring of blood from his body.

When something pierced his leg, David instinctively cast [Cure Wounds]. He had also picked up a new weapon at some point but lost it quickly when a deep slash to his right arm left him unable to hold it.

Nonetheless, the third floor wasn't just drenched in his blood—it was soaked with the lives of his enemies. David had bled an astonishing amount. It should have been enough to kill him on the spot, but he was still standing. His blade danced through the enemies, reaping one life after another, even as blood continued gushing out of him.

David never slowed. He continued casting [Cure Wounds] to mend his wounds and replenish his lost blood. His Holy Sea screamed—an ear-piercing, internal roar that seemed to echo through every corner of his body. At least, that's what it felt like as the Holy Sea cracked.

He was forcing his Skill Runes to work even though there wasn't even a trace of holy power to draw from.

At some moment, David's vision split. He was still fighting the Kobolds, desperately trying to survive as his condition worsened. At the same time, he could see his Holy Sea. It was cracked in multiple places and looked pitiful compared to its former glory.

But there was something else. Something red and vibrant glimmered around the Holy Sea, circling the Skill Runes. Like vibrant red stars, crimson motes twinkled brightly and surged into the [Cure Wounds] Rune whenever he activated it.

The crimson motes seemed to replace holy power, acting as a substitute. They didn't feel like holy power. They felt stronger—more potent. It took David a moment to register, but just a trace of the crimson motes was enough to cast and overclock [Cure Wounds]. The Skill Rune was unleashed to its fullest, rapidly mending David's wounds even as he sustained new ones.

Yet, as his wounds healed quickly, David couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. His mind was a foggy mess, making it hard to gather his thoughts, but one thing was certain: something belonging to him had been drained to replace holy power.

He had no idea what the crimson motes were. They seemed dangerous, draining something he couldn't quite fathom. Yet they were the only thing keeping him alive at this moment.

Did it really matter? It wouldn't matter if he died. So what if something was being drained?

David shuddered inwardly at the realization. If he died, it would all be over.

A steely resolve appeared in his eyes as his movements accelerated once more. The number of injuries he sustained decreased, and it kept decreasing, even though it didn't feel like he was killing more Kobolds.

He surrendered his mind and body to his instincts, letting them guide him. Eventually, he noticed something in the corner of his eye. Gradually, his senses sharpened as the haze lifted with every pang of searing pain.

David's entire body was sore. It felt like he had been torn to shreds, which wasn't far from the truth. A quick glance revealed missing chunks of flesh, dozens of shallow and deep cuts, and countless other injuries that were either healing or had already healed.

Now that David was back to his senses, the pain he'd been ignoring crashed down on him all at once.

A high-pitched scream escaped his lips, and tears trickled down his cheeks as he endured the pain.

No matter how much pain he felt, he knew one thing: he was still alive.