Apocalypse Healer - Path of Death-Chapter 39B2 - Regrowth

It was already close to midday when the final operation concluded. Even though he had easier access to his hip joint than his shoulder joint, David struggled to plant the last Blood Storage. It took several tries, a lot of Blood, pain, and effort, but in the end, it worked.

His movements remained smooth, and some simple tests confirmed that everything functioned properly. Accessing the Blood Storage in his hip was as mentally draining as the others, but the same principle applied. David was certain that with tireless practice, the arduous task would soon become second nature.

He looked at the terrace and conjured a small crimson projectile in his hand. The projectile expanded as he infused it with [Purify], filling it to the brim. David followed up by compressing [Purify] inside the projectile before inserting more into it.

That should work, he thought, willing the projectile to hover above the bloody terrace. It exploded at his command, releasing the compressed energy within. [Purify] spread across the terrace, resembling a miniature shockwave as the projectile burst apart. The blood and white powder left behind by the ground bones vanished, cleansing the terrace.

The purification bomb was far from perfect—far from ideal, David thought. But it wasn’t too bad either. Combining Skills had always been useful, and maybe it was time to shift his focus back to that.

He experimented further, channeling blood from the storages before infusing it into his Source. He exchanged the Blood from one storage with another, analyzed potential issues, and searched for differences between the three Blood Storages now that they had been installed and assimilated into his body.

Once satisfied with the results, David left silently, leaping over the fence to take a shortcut to Ashville’s plaza. His attention drifted to the plethora of life signals, the dense Aether hanging in the air, and the fireballs and magical projectiles whistling through the sky. Not everyone was outside training, but he perceived dozens—if not hundreds—of exhausted life signals and vibrant Skill Runes in use.

It was incomparable to life in the Sanctuary, whether it was Arc or the Dwarven Sanctuary. There, he had only seen a handful of residents using their Skills—a stark contrast to the hundreds of townspeople in Ashville doing the same and more. Watching so many humans give their utmost, striving to refine their Skill Runes and rank up even in times of relative safety, filled him with pride. Yet, looking at the same scene from a different perspective painted a far grimmer picture. Were they training out of ambition, seeking to grow stronger and more independent? Or were they simply desperate—terrified of the future that awaited them?

David reached the plaza and followed the weakest life signals to a large hall. It could have been a gymnasium before the integration. Now, however, it was a hospice, where dozens of men and women lay suffering from severe wounds. He discovered close to a dozen individuals with missing limbs. Their life signals were incomplete—the loss of a hand, an arm, or even a leg had altered them permanently.

He observed groups of helpers—clearly Clerics with decent capabilities—tending to the wounded. While they succeeded in treating most, they failed the most unfortunate. They couldn’t regrow lost limbs.

David closed the door behind him in silence and walked through the hall, studying the Clerics. Some were clearly more experienced than others, and their methods piqued his interest. Could they have been nurses before the integration? Their approach—merging medical knowledge with Healing Skills—was remarkable. Though the physical laws governing most abilities remained largely unstudied, the Clerics used every bit of their prior expertise in harmony with their newfound powers.

Their ability to preserve the lives of mortally wounded men and women clinging to life was impressive, but that didn’t make them omnipotent. Not even Zora and the other woman, both of whom stood out, could regenerate lost limbs.

He reached an unconscious woman missing her left hand and channeled Blood into her. She stirred but didn’t wake.

“You’re here!” Zora’s voice, filled with joy, rang out.

David barely glanced at her as he replied calmly, “Looks like it.”

“Can you help them? Please?” Zora pleaded, grasping his hands.

He turned to her as she squeezed his hands, staring at her until she let go, mumbling, “Sorry… I was just excited to see you…”

Dismissing her antics, he looked around. “What happened to them? To everyone here?”

Maybe he had missed the crippled life signals before, but they hadn’t been here when he first arrived in Ashville with Maja, Lukas, and the others.

Zora grimaced and shuddered. “Humans did this.”

“Humans?” David cocked an eyebrow. As far as he could tell, there were no remaining human settlements near the Dwarven Sanctuary or Ashville. Or were there more survivors to the north? More bandits, maybe?

“I’m not sure, actually.” Zora fidgeted around. “Some looked human, but I don’t think most of them actually are. They could be foreign races walking on two legs, like Elves or Dwarves, but I think they resemble the Dira... Tira... Or were they called Ratac? Two-legged creatures, taller than humans, with long tails and bodies entirely covered in scales.”

Is she talking about the Tirac? David wondered. Regardless, Zora—who was still trembling—never said they were the same. He reminded himself of that. They merely ‘resembled’ the Tirac race.

“The others call them lizardmen, but we don’t know what they’re actually called. The Warriors couldn’t kill any of them, so we have no kill notification. Still, Lukas forced the lizardmen into retreat…” Zora glanced at the unconscious woman before them. “Unfortunately, we suffered a lot.”

He had half-expected Goblins to be Ashville’s greatest problem, but lizardmen sounded more problematic. Were they like Kobolds, or… David froze for a moment. What if the lizardmen were actually Kobolds? Not common Kobolds who lacked the means to evolve, but an entire settlement with enough resources—and the Class System—to do so? That sounded like a problem.

“Why didn’t you call me earlier if you had problems?”

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Zora clicked her tongue. “You haven’t been here for long, and Maja told us not to bother you. This b—” She stopped suddenly, but David didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence to know what Zora was about to say. She cleared her throat and asked, “Can you help them? Oh, right, you required our lifeforce to regrow your friend’s arm. That won’t be a problem. We can find more than enough volunteers to share their lifeforce with you!”

He waved his hand dismissively. “I can manage.”

There was no need to cast [Sacrifice] or use someone else’s lifeforce for this.

David considered cutting her wrist off, but he decided against it after a moment. The unconscious woman’s wounds had been tended to, and skin covered what was left of her wrist, yet that didn’t mean [Greater Restoration] would be blocked by it.

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They would be even more afraid of me if I were to sever everyone’s arms and legs before regrowing them, he thought, chuckling inwardly as he imagined their reaction.

He approached the unconscious woman and lifted her arm gently. Blood surged into the woman and [Greater Restoration]’s Rune simultaneously, preparing both Skill and body for what awaited them.

David suppressed [Greater Restoration]’s output when he cast the Skill first. He studied the unconscious woman intently as she stirred. Her features twisted in discomfort, but she didn’t wake up or scream. He considered that a success. Even more so when the skin covering her wrist wiggled and burst. Droplets of blood dripped to the ground, yet David couldn’t help but feel off when snippets of skin remained intact. Could that be a problem later?

What if he couldn’t restore her hand properly because of that? It seemed highly unlikely, but David did not want to risk it. Not with his first patient after Zachariah. He applied Rend to his index finger and severed the thin layer of skin.

Zora shrieked as more blood dripped to the gymnasium floor, and he felt her rush to his other side, holy power oozing from her when strands of flesh, muscle, and veins grew from the raw, fleshy mass.

“Don’t interfere,” David snapped, casting [Purify] on the exposed bone and flesh while increasing [Greater Restoration]’s output simultaneously. He broke into a cold sweat as the toll of [Greater Restoration] caught up to him the moment he used the Skill at full power. However, he grinned as his patient started to heal.

First, the rest of her wrist regrew. The process was fast but energy-consuming. Regardless, David proceeded, watching and, most importantly, feeling the bones in her hand grow slowly. The sensation was odd.

When he had used [Greater Restoration] on himself, it had felt somewhat natural. However, using the same Skill to regrow bones on someone else felt alien. It was almost like he was growing a second body. As if the unconscious woman’s hand was part of him. It was odd, creepy even, but David didn’t dislike the feeling.

He started to like it, as he was the reason the woman’s hand was being restored, layer by layer. First, her bones, which were quickly followed by the arteries, nerves, and muscles.

David couldn’t name each muscle, nerve, or artery, but he understood the process with shocking clarity. Even though he didn’t know the names of all nerves, tendons, and the rest, David knew instinctively that he could restore hands with more ease now that he had experienced it once.

More efficient, and thus less energy-consuming as well, he thought, his grin widening. Maybe restoring my body mid-combat would be possible as long as I nurtured my Skills and knowledge.

He imagined regrowing a lost hand seconds after an enemy severed it and wondered how much stronger he would have to be before he could do the same.

But how long would that take? Months? Years? Depending on the amount of Blood and lifeforce at his disposal and his Skill Runes’ level, David could imagine regrowing limbs in a minute or two in less than a week.

Could he do that mid-combat? Definitely not. His entire focus and most of his energy would be drained in regrowing the severed limb.

As for reattaching, David was unsure. If his right arm were severed and he caught it mid-air, he might be able to reattach it with a single use of [Greater Restoration], assuming it was overclocked.

He inspected the regrown hand until he was certain the woman had fully recovered.

“You should tell me if she feels off,” David told Zora. “And you should have someone write down how she feels about her new hand. To be precise, I would love to have reports from everyone. Zachariah mentioned his new arm feels natural, just like the arm he’d lost, but his situation was different. He was missing an arm for only a few minutes.”

He turned to Zora, who nodded slowly. She studied the unconscious woman as well, her mouth agape. After channeling holy power into the regrown hand, she whispered, “Unbelievable.”

David nodded and turned to the next patient, who was missing most of his arm.

However, he slowed as Zora followed, saying something to the other Healers.

“By the way, what happened between you and Maja?”

Zora’s smile faltered instantly.

“What do you mean?” She feigned ignorance and looked away. David just stared at her until she sighed deeply.

“Do I have to tell you?”

She didn’t have to. Zora should know that much.

“It’s complicated. So… let’s just say Maja blames Lukas for the death of our… our friends.”

Did she mean the friends who died when they encountered the Void Fragment? David wondered, watching Zora squirm in discomfort. Her eyes were watery, and tears trickled down her cheeks, but he just looked at her in silence.

He could understand Maja’s point—to a certain extent. That day, Lukas had been out of control. It looked like the emotions wreaking havoc inside him had taken over, pushing him to decisions he probably regretted now. Lukas had made a mistake, yet the incident was not necessarily his fault. Partially maybe, David thought, but in the grand scheme, the Void Fragment had been the aggressor, killing their friends. Furthermore, nobody had forced them to join Horville’s inspection. As far as David could remember, everyone had gone voluntarily.

“That’s it?” he asked bluntly.

Zora stopped sobbing and looked up, shaking her head. “No. We had a fight. She didn’t want to be with us anymore. I don’t know what exactly happened, but one day, she said she wouldn’t fight with us anymore and that she would search for survivors instead. Lukas flipped out—we still don’t know why—saying that she had to get her act together and stay with them. He was so angry, shouting at her, telling her she would have to live with the guilt if something happened to us.”

At some points, Zora's words rushed out, turning from a steady flow into a flood. Her initial hesitation to talk about what had happened between the friends transformed into something resembling a therapy session. To David, it felt like that—the sole problem being that Zora was forcing her problems upon him.

However, the summary of everything Zora blurted out was fairly simple. Something had happened between Lukas and Maja, and they were now playing a game of blaming and terrorizing one another.

It was childish, but if that’s what they needed to cope, who was he to intervene? David thought with a shrug.

Regardless of everything Zora said, he caught her changing topics several times. She had a few slip-ups—she also mentioned something about the Rift—and switched tunes quickly upon recognizing her mistake.

There was more to their issues, but so be it, David decided. Everyone had secrets they wanted to keep to themselves.

He disregarded Zora and started working on the one-armed patient.