Weeks Later
"Ptuih!"
Diru spat onto the dirt. A thick, crimson fluid that had turned almost black erupted from his mouth. His internal organs had been shattered when he took that direct hit in the previous skirmish. Although his regenerative capabilities had already mended the damage, clotted blood still obstructed his throat. Once he had cleared it, he felt a wave of relief.
He turned his gaze from the enemy remains—slowly dissolving into black ash and drifting away on the wind—to his squad. They looked exhausted, yet a triumphant smile was etched across their hardened faces. Their fists remained clenched; though their bodies were marred by wounds, the radiance of their Dragon Prana was already rapidly reconstituting the damaged tissue. Within minutes, they looked as if they hadn't just survived a life-and-death struggle against a lethal foe.
