Chapter 95 – Enveloped by the Shadow of Death

Chapter 95

Enveloped by the Shadow of Death

Date : Day 11 of Grimleaf 1024 Aethellgard Concord Year.

To Hyoren's surprise, Hifoppe's body had started dissolving. The weight on his spear suddenly went away. The flesh and bone turned to ash. Its armor and blade clattered on the floor, losing something which held them. The metal rang against stone.

And in the middle of the ash, remnants of its body, laid a pulsing dark orb instead of a magic stone. It was a big orb, the inside was swirling chaos. Sinister. Dark. The orb pulsed with an eerie light. The shadows around it seemed to bend and twist.

The servant of Gidol seemed to have a different ecology from a normal monster. They could talk. Their bodies disappeared into thin mist when killed. And dropped a sinister orb instead of a magic stone. The implications settled in his mind. This was something new. Something wrong.

Then at the same time, he also received chimes of notification. The Voice of Aethell rang in his mind.

"Instinct - Leveled up to 2."

"Magic Manipulation - Leveled up to 3."

"Magic Blade - Leveled up to 2."

He received a torrent of notifications. The battle with Hifoppe was a high-stakes battle. It rewarded him with many skill levels. The voice continued. Level after level. Skill after skill.

But he couldn't dwell on it too much. There were more important things to do.

"ELISE!"

He turned around and ran toward Elise. His feet pounded against the stone. His heart raced. His mind screamed.

His mind was still a bit hazy as he was not deactivating Berserker yet. The red haze still lingered. The bloodlust still simmered.

He looked at Elise condition. The wound on her torso was not completely closed. But the blood was not gushing anymore. There was still fresh flesh underneath, unprotected by skins. Blood trickling and seeping. A deep gash which blemished her smooth and ethereal skin.

His knowledge from learning to become a doctor assessed it. It was not life-threatening anymore. It was still dangerous, but there was another emergency.

He moved to check her left arm stump. It was still gushing blood from the major artery on her wrist. The blood pooled beneath her. The cut was clean. Like it was made from surgical scalpel. The bone, the muscle, the nerve, the blood vessel. It was like they suddenly got separated. Hifoppe’s Black Katana sharpness is unbelievable.

He picked up her hand on the ground. Similar state. Clean cut. And still warm. The fingers were limp. The palm was pale. The warmth was fading.

"I don't have healing magic. And can a simple low-ranked healing potion reattach severed limbs?"

He looked at the deep gash on her torso which had not healed fully yet.

"Even those wounds are still not fully healed after I poured two potions."

He grimaced. His jaw tightened. His teeth ground together.

"I doubt our current potions can reattach severed limbs."

He went into deep thought. The berserker haze made thinking difficult. But the medical knowledge pushed through.

"And should I deactivate my Berserker?"

He shook his head. The motion was sharp and decisive.

"No. I can't let the backlash hit me yet. I need to persist. Even if I need to pay a much higher price later. I need to make sure Elise is safe first."

The fog of berserker was still clouding his mind. But it was nothing compared to the pain of agony which was going to hit him after he deactivated the berserker. Luminara's upgrade on his unique skill had made him able to use it for a prolonged time with a clearer mind than before. But he knew. He would pay heavier backlash the longer he used this skill. But he had no choice. If he got hit with backlash now, he would faint and be bedridden for hours. And Elise would be dead by that time. Losing too much blood. The math was simple. Cruel. Absolute.

He looked back at Elise. Her face was pale. Her breathing was shallow. Her silver hair was stained red.

"If I can't rely on magic, what should I do to save amputated limbs? Think Hyoren, Think! You got four years of medical education!"

He was angry at himself. And the Berserker skill increased his bloodlust even more. Making it hard to think clearly. His mind raced. Digging knowledge from his university days. The lectures. The practice. The textbooks.

"Amputated limbs need to be reattached within six to eight hours. And the cleaner the cut, the higher the success of reattachment."

He looked carefully at her severed hand. To the still-gushing blood of her stump. The comparison was clear. The situation was dire.

"I should reattach her severed arm. Maybe suturing it? I already knew how to suture the wound... but suturing amputated limbs..."

He shook his head. The frustration built. The haze thickened.

"I should reconnect the blood vessel and nerve first before suturing the limb or the amputated parts would just die sooner or later."

He grimaced again. The complexity was overwhelming. The stakes were impossible. Then he remembered. His level up.

"My Magic Manipulation finally reached level three... And I got a blessing from Luminara. Can I actually now perform light magic? To heal her..."

His mind raced. The more time he spent dilly-dallying, the more blood Elise would lose. And the more dangerous she would be. Every second counted. Every moment mattered.

"Screw it. I will just try it. Combine the suturation method and later I will try using magic. And hope for the best."

He quickly went to work. He looked around. Searching for something which could substitute surgical needles. The chamber was bare. The shadows were long.

His eyes locked at Elise's green ribbon. There was a metal pin on it to secure the ribbon to her silver hair. He quickly took it. The five-centimeter metal pin with a pointed tip was sharp enough.

He nodded.

"I can use this."

He then looked for a substitute thread. His eyes went to Elise's broken bow. The string was strong. Tensile. Thin enough. It was a good substitute. He pulled the string free. Unraveled it. The fibers were durable.

He then took a water orb from Elise's storage bag. He cleaned the severed hand and the stump. The water was cool. Clear. He washed away the blood. The dirt. The debris. The severed hand was pale for lack of blood.

He then took his Cinder-maw Dagger. He used the fire lit from it to heat the metal pin. Sterilizing it. The flame was hot. Orange. The metal glowed red. He waited. The metal cooled. The sterilization was complete.

"Ready..."

He then worked.

He carefully aligned her severed arm with the stump, forcing himself to be as precise as possible. Even a slight misalignment—just a few millimeters—could ruin any chance of proper reconnection. Blood vessels not reconnected if he was careless. Nerves required precise alignment. Muscle and tendon needed proper reattachment. The anatomy was clear in his mind. The diagrams. The textbooks. The anatomy.

This suture alone wouldn't be enough. He knew that. After this, he would still need to use potions, and magic if needed.

The potions he had were simple healing potions, and he was still not sure he could use light magic properly. He sure they wouldn't reattach a limb on their own. At best, they would accelerate what he could hold together.

So this—this part, the suturing—had to be right. Perfect and precise.

He steadied both the arm and the stump, securing them as best as he could before beginning. He had practiced suturing before—but only on training dummies. Never on a real body. Never like this. Never on someone he loved.

He hesitated. Just for a moment. The weight of the moment pressed down. The consequences of failure loomed.

Then he shook his head and gave a small, firm nod. There was no time for doubt. No time for fear. No time for hesitation.

He pushed the needle through her skin. It entered with controlled resistance and emerged on the other side of the wound. The flesh gave way. The needle pierced. He pulled the thread through and tied it off, forming the first stitch—holding flesh to flesh, anchoring it in place. The thread was taut. The stitch was tight.

One stitch. Then another. The work continued.

Blood threatened to seep through the gaps he hadn't closed yet. The red pooled. The wound wept.

But he continued.

Slowly, carefully, he worked along the wound, closing it bit by bit—doing everything he could to keep the arm aligned for what would come next. Each stitch was precise. Each knot was tight. Each movement was deliberate.

Methodical. Steady. Unwavering.

The haze from his berserker skill dulled his thoughts. The bloodlust wanted to vent his anger and frustration. But his focus held. His determination to save Elise—his lover—cut through it. The medical training. The knowledge. The skill. They all combined into one singular purpose.

***

Hyoren was done suturing and attached her hand back. The circular stitching was messy. The stitches were uneven. It was his first time doing it. But it was a decent job. The alignment was perfect despite the unevenness of the stitch. The hand was positioned correctly. The fingers were straight. The wrist was aligned.

He then put down her arm carefully. The motion was gentle.

"Now. What next? Should I try potion first? Or magic first?"

He looked at the wound on her torso. The gash was still open. The flesh was raw. He shook his head. The frustration built.

"The potion works too slowly. The potency was too low."

He decided. He would try magic. There was no other choice.

"What should I do to activate magic?"

He remembered Elise's lecture. She couldn't do magic and she never went into details about how to actually perform magic. But she said elemental magic needed a few things to work. Oria later also confirmed it. The alchemist who was a master of advanced water magic had said so. The knowledge surfaced from his memory.

Firstly, Magic Manipulation needed level three. To actually emit Aethell outside the body. He had just reached that level. The timing was fortunate. Or perhaps fated.

Secondly, he needed Runic arrays and a firm image in his mind to perform the magic. To actually construct the magic. The framework was essential. The structure was necessary.

"I don't know what runic arrays of light magic are. I only knew the symbol."

He was not yet learning what the runic arrays of light magic were. And only knew the symbol of light magic. Six-pointed star with a circle in the middle. The image was clear. But incomplete.

"But Elise says magic also requires a strong mental image of what the caster wants to do. Runic arrays help a lot. But mental image is more important."

He then decided. He would just do it. There was no time to learn properly. No time to study. No time to prepare.

He activated his Aethell Sense. So he could see the flow of Aethell. The magical signature pulsed in his vision. The energy was visible.

He hovered his hand above the stitched wound on Elise's left arm. His palm was inches from her skin. The blood had slowed. But not stopped. The sutures held. But barely.

He closed his eyes. Focusing on his Aethell core. The energy center in his chest pulsed. Warm. Alive. He instructed the Aethell inside to flow outward. From his chest. To his hand. To outside. To reach Elise's wound. The energy obeyed, slowly but steadily

He saw the magic start flowing. But it was not doing anything. He still hadn't performed the magic yet. The energy was there, but directionless and purposeless.

He then imagined the Light Magic symbol in his mind. A clear six-pointed star with a circle in the middle. The lines were precise. The circle was perfect. The image was sharp. He then imagined what he wanted to do. He imagined his magic reconnecting every part of her wound. The visualization was intense.

He imagined her two bones connected. The radius and ulna bones joined. The marrow fused. The structure restored.

He imagined her muscles and tendon next. The extensor and flexor of wrist muscle and tendon. The fibers intertwined. The connections remade. The tissue regrown.

He imagined her blood vessels. The radial and ulnar arteries. The veins. The channels opened. The blood flowed. The circulation restored.

Then lastly. Three nerves of the wrist. Radial, Median, and Ulnar nerve. The pathways for sensation. The connections for movement. The lines of communication restored.

But the magic was not activated yet. He felt a pulse of Aethell start pouring into Elise's wound. But it was still not doing much. The wound closed slightly. The blood slowly stopped trickling. But it was not enough. It was not healing magic yet. The energy was scattered. Unfocused. Incomplete.

“The magic is not activating yet! What should I do…”

He was desperate. Then he remembered, about one of his patron goddess who ruled over light element herself.

He then prayed. To Luminara. To the Goddess of Light herself. His patron goddess who summoned him to this world. The desperation was real. The plea was genuine. The need was absolute.

"Please. Goddess Luminara! I'm sorry for neglecting your warning! I'm sorry for thinking your warning is not worth considering because of how clumsy you are! But Please! Help me save Elise!"

Then miracles happened. He felt a warm light shine over him. Like a touch of gentle mother washing over him. The sensation was soft. Comforting. Divine. The warmth spread through his body. The berserker haze receded. The bloodlust faded. The peace settled.

Then suddenly he heard a voice. Directly into his mind.

Child. I didn't ask for your apology, it was not needed, but I heard your prayer. Please rely on me more often. Now, go save your princess.

Luminara's answer. He couldn't see her. But her image, soothing image of her, with a warm smile, motherlike aura, smiled upon him. The presence was real. The blessing was given. The permission was granted.

Then the Voice of Aethell rang again. The chimes echoed through his mind.

"Light Magic - Skill Acquired."

"Light Magic Level 1 Spell - Healing Light - Learned."

The knowledge of Healing Light flooded his mind. The information was clear.  The runic arrays needed to perform it. The requirement to activate it. The structure formed in his consciousness. The pattern was burned into his memory.

This spell required a strong image on what the user wanted to do. The visualization was essential. The more knowledgeable the user with how human bodies, anatomy, and physiology worked, the higher the potency of the spell was. This was the spell of the Doctor of this world.

And it was a perfect spell for him who already had basic knowledge from his four years in medical university. The anatomy lessons. The physiology textbooks. The countless hours of study. All of it was suddenly relevant.

"Thank you, Goddess Luminara."

He thanked his patron Goddess for the miracle. The words were sincere. The gratitude was genuine. The prayer was answered.

But as he understand the spell better, he knew the limit of this healing light. With proper knowledge, the potency of the spell was higher. But he was still limited by his low skill level.

He just learned it. He definitely couldn't reattach amputated limbs by using healing magic alone. But he understood. His work on suturing the wound and trying to align the amputated arm was an important factor. The physical connection was necessary. The magical healing enhanced what was already there. He was glad he did it. The preparation mattered. The work counted.

He then started working. He didn't hesitate. He closed his eyes.

The image of Healing Light runic arrays materialized in his mind. The six-pointed star. The circle in the center. The complex lines and symbol around them.

He then carefully imagined every part of her arm which he wanted to connect. The bones first. Then muscles and tendons. The extensor and flexor. The tissue fibers. The attachment points. Then blood vessels. And finally the nerves.

Then he opened his eyes. The determination was clear. The focus was absolute.

"Healing Light!"

A comforting warm light shone from his hands which were hovering over Elise's wound. The glow was soft. The light pulsed with each heartbeat. The warmth spread across her skin. The air around them seemed to shimmer. The darkness of the chamber receded. The shadows fled. The healing had begun.

He focused. Kept imagining every part of the wound restored. Every part was reconnected. The image was vivid. The magic flowed through him. The energy channeled from his core. Through his hands. Into her flesh. The connection was made. The healing was happening.

Slowly but surely, her arm started to reattach itself. The wound around the stitch closed. The flesh knit together. The blood stopped trickling. The inflammation receded. The tissue fused. The bone connected. The muscle rejoined. The tendon reattached. The vessels opened. The nerves aligned. The healing was gradual, but visible.

After a few seconds which lasted for eternity, the light subsided. The glow faded. The warmth receded. The magic was spent. The healing was done.

He then carefully touched her arm. The connection felt solid. The bones and muscle were reattached. The alignment was correct. The structure was whole. He could start to feel her pulse on her arm. The beat was steady. Strong. Present. Her severed arm also regained color and warmth. The pale flesh turned pink. The cold skin warmed. The blood vessels were reconnected. The circulation was restored.

He couldn't assess if the nerve was properly connected as she was still unconscious. The sensation would have to wait. The movement would come later.

But at least… her left hand was saved. Whole again. Preserved. Still hers.

Yet the wound had not vanished. A faint, circular line remained around her wrist—stitched, imperfect. Whether from his unsteady hands or the limits of his low-level healing, he couldn’t tell.

It marked her all the same. Like a bracelet… made not of gold, but of scars.

He then moved his hands over the wound on her torso. The gash was deep. The flesh was still open. The blood had slowed but not stopped. He activated his Healing Light again.

The wound started closing. Slowly. But surely.

Now the gash on her torso was already gone. Faint pink of fresh skin decorated her torso. But as the wound was too deep and wide, or maybe because his healing magic was still not high level enough, it left a permanent scar on her supposed unblemished body.

A line of faint pink tissue marked where the blade had cut. The scar was visible. Permanent. A reminder of what had happened.

***

Hyoren already tended all of Elise's wounds.

But her breathing was still shallow and ragged. Each breath was weak. Barely perceptible. And her face was still pale. The color had not returned.

And she was not responding to him at all. The silence was deafening. The stillness was terrifying.

He grimaced. The expression was tight. The frustration was evident. His jaw clenched. His teeth ground together.

He checked her emerald eyes. He gently pulled open her eyelids. The conjunctiva was too anemic. Too pale. The pink was gone. Only white remained. An indicator. A warning. A sign of severe blood loss.

"She lost too much blood. Damn it. She is still in critical condition."

He then took another healing potion from his pouch. The green liquid sloshed. The bottle was cool in his hand. He forced Elise to drink. He tilted her head back. He parted her lips. But the liquid wouldn't enter her throat. She couldn't drink. The liquid pooled in her mouth. Threatened to spill. Her swallowing reflex was gone.

Hyoren didn't hesitate. He poured every ounce of the potions into his mouth. The liquid filled his cheeks. Then he forced her to drink mouth to mouth. He pressed his lips against hers. He transferred the potion. He sealed her lips with his. He massaged Elise's throat. To help her swallow. The motion was gentle but desperate.

He waited for a while for the potions to take effect. The seconds stretched. The moments dragged. He watched her face. Watched her chest. Watched for any sign. Any change. Any improvement. But there was nothing. Her condition was unchanged. The potion had not helped. The blood loss was too severe.

"Damn it. She needs better treatment from a professional..."

He gritted his teeth. The frustration was overwhelming. He checked his berserker-fueled body. The red streaks of the veins. The bloodshot eyes. The bulging muscles. The transformation was still active. Still burning through him.

"I already used berserker for almost 30 minutes... last time I used this before it was upgraded, during Alpha fight. It was only 15 minutes. And I was hit with agony and bedridden almost 5 hours. Now I can't imagine the backlash on my current use."

But he shook his head. The motion was sharp and decisive.

"No. I can't deactivate this yet. I need to bring Elise to town. Or she will still die. She lost too much blood. She needs proper care. Maybe blood transfusion, if it exists in this world."

His eyes were now determined. His resolve was clear.

He scanned the surroundings.

At the eerie Archway with pulsing sinister rune—dungeon doors. The structure stood at the far end of the chamber. The runes glowed with malevolent light. The darkness seemed to breathe from within.

At the remnant of Hifoppe the Goblin Knight. The ash. The sinister core. The black armor. The black katana. The lingering scent of death.

"I need to report this too. And about the Servant of Demon God working to create dungeon at this frontier..."

He looked at Elise. Her face was still. Her breathing was shallow. Her body was limp.

"But her safety comes first."

He then quickly took every evidence to his storage bag.

Hifoppe's black armor. The metal was heavy and hard. And the material was alien to him. The build also showed it was the masterwork of a smith. It held even after it got pounded by combination of His and Elise’s attack.

The black katana. The blade was sharp and dangerous. The weapon which severed Elise’s arm cleanly. And threatened to bisected her in two.

And its sinister core. The orb pulsed in his hand. Everything went inside the void. The bag swallowed the items. The weight disappeared.

He then carried Elise on his back. He positioned her arms over his shoulders and secured her legs around his waist. She was light. Too light. She was pale. Too pale. She was unmoving even when he lifted her. Her head lolled against his shoulder. Her silver hair fell across his arm. Her breath was faint against his neck.

Hyoren scanned the main chamber for the last time. The torches still flickered. The shadows still danced. The dungeon door still pulsed. The scene was etched into his memory.

"It took us almost the whole day from Akela to this old quarry last time. Maybe around 6 hours of relaxed walking."

He secured Elise tighter on his back. The motion was careful. Gentle. He adjusted her position. Made sure she was stable. Made sure she wouldn't fall.

"If I run, fueled with my Berserker, I hope I can reach it in under two hours."

He started running towards the exit. Running towards Akela. To save Elise. To save his lover.

The danger which threatened her life had not yet disappeared. Her wound was already closed. She didn't risk blood loss anymore. But she had already lost too much blood. Hyoren had already done first aid with his limited skill and knowledge. She needed better treatment from a more qualified person.

Hyoren ran and ran. His feet pounded against the stone. His breath came in ragged gasps. His muscles burned with exertion. The berserker rage still flowed through his veins.  Elise was still secured safely on his back. But her conditions was still unchanged.

A shadow of death still enveloped her.