Minoru was safe for the moment, but totally trapped. He was a prisoner of the dense, thorny protection he had sought, listening to the heavy, impatient snorting of the Fangjaw Wolf just a few feet away. The Magius Suppression skill was holding, cloaking the trace of his energy, but his 15 Magius were draining by one unit every minute. He had to act.
He needed a lure, and a lure meant a projectile. He slowly, agonizingly, began to reach his clawed hand downward, blindly searching the root-matted earth beneath him for a stone or a loose piece of bark. The movement was treacherous. The moment his muscle contracted, a massive, pencil-thick thorn plunged deep into the soft, unprotected flesh of his forearm, tearing a jagged, burning gash.
He bit back the whimper, a silent scream of agony contorting his face. Blood, warm and startlingly bright red against his dull green skin, immediately began to seep from the wound, mixing with the damp soil and the pungent odor of the bushes. He knew the predator would not be able to miss the fresh, powerful scent of blood, even with his Magius suppressed.
The blood will draw it, but it has to be away from me, he reasoned, the pain sharpening his focus.
He ignored the throbbing pain, pushing his fingers deeper until they closed around a rock the size of his fist. It wasn't one of the Magoi light sources, just a dull, heavy stone. He needed to throw the rock at an angle that would project the maximum sound, about five meters to the right of the wolf's current position, toward a small, rotting log he'd glimpsed on his way in.
With a grunt of effort, and ignoring the fresh surge of pain from his torn arm, he wound up his small, feeble goblin arm and hurled the stone with all the desperate strength he could muster.
The rock sailed out of the bushes and struck the rotten log with a sharp, hollow crack!
The Fangjaw Wolf reacted with the speed of a thunderbolt. The pacing stopped, and a terrifying roar of pure, focused aggression ripped through the air. The wolf didn't just run toward the sound; it leapt. The massive body crashed through the air and landed with devastating force right where the stone hit the log. The log splintered with a wet crunch, and the wolf, enraged by the deceptive sound, began to tear at the undergrowth.
This was the moment. Minoru pushed his body out of the thorny center of the bush, not toward the back, but sideways, toward the clearing where the wolf had just been standing.
But the wolf was too fast. Even as it tore at the log with its Corrosive Fangs, its Aura Perception, which sensed the vibrations of his movement, registered the slight flare of his Magius as he tensed to spring.
It spun its massive head in a blur, its red eyes locking onto the slight movement in the bushes.
Minoru was only halfway out when the wolf struck back with a huge, sweeping claw. The blow was aimed at the sound, a blind attack meant to clear the brush. It missed Minoru's head, but the razor sharp, obsidian-colored claws tore through the dense thorns right beside him, shearing off a thick, woody branch that was wrapped in hundreds of long, vicious spines. The severed branch whipped back, driven by the force of the wolf's swing, and slammed into Minoru's lower left side.
He felt an explosive, blinding pain. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, and several of the largest thorns were driven deep into his ribs and flank. He gasped, a short, involuntary cry of sheer agony that immediately betrayed his exact location.
The wolf heard it. The beast gave a triumphant, guttural snort and began to slam its massive body into the thicket, attempting to breach the final barrier.
Minoru was writhing, pinned for a second by the agonizing pressure of the embedded thorns, his fresh blood pouring from both his arm and his side. He tried to scramble free, but the pain was too much. The scent of his fear and blood was overpowering his Magius Suppression. He knew he was about to be torn apart.
No! Not now! he screamed in his mind, the raw, primal urge to survive overriding the pain. I can't die a second time for nothing. I need to be able to resist this. I need a shield, a wall, something to block that beast's attack!
The cold, distant voice responded instantly, confirming his wish, fueled by the spike of extreme trauma and the existential threat.
[Adaptation criteria met. Desire for momentary, physical resistance against overwhelming force.]
[Adaptation: Magius Skin granted. Reinforces epidermis and muscle tissue with concentrated Magius for a short duration. Cost: 5 Magius for activation. Duration: 10 seconds.]
A strange, intense heat surged through Minoru's green skin. The painful throbbing in his side and arm momentarily dulled, replaced by a feeling of metallic rigidity. He could feel his skin become taut, like hardened leather stretched over steel.
Minoru checked his status while the wolf's fangs ripped through the last of the branches.
Magius: 15 (Start of Lure) - 5 (Magius Skin) - 1 (Drain) = 9 / 100
He had traded a quarter of his remaining energy for ten seconds of momentary durability.
The Fangjaw Wolf, finally breaking through the barrier, lunged. Its massive, poison-coated snout filled Minoru's field of vision, its red eyes burning with feral hunger.
But Minoru was already moving. Driven by the ten-second reprieve from pain, he twisted his small body, using the last of his momentum to spring free of the pinning branches. The wolf's fangs closed on empty air where his flank had been a moment before. Instead, the wolf's teeth snagged only the thick, thorny branch that had injured him.
Minoru scrambled onto the forest floor, his newly reinforced skin still tingling with the latent Magius. The pain of his two wounds was distant now, held at bay by the Magius Skin, but he knew the moment the skill faded, the agony would return tenfold. He had to use these precious seconds.
The wolf, realizing its prey was escaping, let out a massive, frustrated roar and began to tear toward Minoru. It was too fast, too big, and its speed seemed to accelerate with every stride.
Minoru looked ahead and saw his only remaining route: a steep, rocky ravine dropping down toward what he could now hear was the rushing sound of water.
He ran toward the edge of the drop, Magius Skin fading, the immense pain of his two deep gashes rushing back into his awareness. He didn't slow down, launching himself over the jagged edge of the ravine, choosing the unknown dangers of the vertical drop over the certain death behind him. He heard the wolf's massive roar of annoyance as it was forced to stop at the edge, unable to follow his trajectory.
He tumbled down the steep, rocky slope, bouncing and scraping against the jagged stones, the Magius Skin dissolving completely, leaving his frail body to take the full, crushing impact of the fall. He finally splashed into the icy, churning waters of a deep, fast-moving river at the bottom. The shock of the cold water, the intense, stabbing pain of his injuries, and the sheer exhaustion of the fight instantly overwhelmed him, and the world began to fade to black.
His last coherent thought was a terrifying one: I'm injured, freezing, and drowning.
The river was a tumultuous grave. Its current immediately seized his small goblin form and slammed him against a slick, submerged boulder. The impact jarred every bone in his body, making the wounds in his arm and side flare with fire, momentarily tearing him from the brink of unconsciousness.
He had to fight. He was a 33 year old corporate nobody who had traded his quiet, beige death for a loud, green, painful one. He wouldn't let the water claim him.
His Enhanced Senses, rather than giving him warnings, simply amplified his suffering. The icy cold was an enemy, stealing his body heat with cruel efficiency, while the roar of the water was deafening, making it impossible to focus. The metallic taste of his own blood was strong in the water. He could feel the small, spiky thorns that had been driven into his flank still lodged there, the constant movement of the current grinding them deeper with every rotation of his body.
He tried to fight the current, paddling with his short, clawed hands, but it was useless. The river was a force of nature, and Minoru was nothing more than debris. The water tumbled him over and over, his vision blurring between the dark surface and the rock-strewn riverbed.
He needed to find land. He focused his Appraisal skill on the immediate environment, trying to pierce the gloom of the riverbed. His system flashed the familiar white characters, but the information was fragmented and useless in his current state.
Environment: Water (Fast-Flowing, Icy)
Magoi Saturation: Low.
Notable Elements: Sediment, various organic decay, unknown microbial life forms.
Minoru scoffed internally. Thanks, Appraisal. That tells me I'm in a cold river full of dirt.
His consciousness was fading rapidly. He was losing the fight against the cold and the pain. He knew if he passed out here, he would simply sink and drown. He desperately needed something—anything—to latch onto, to give him a moment to breathe. His Magius was dwindling quickly now, the physical trauma forcing a leak of energy he couldn't control.
I wish I could breathe, he thought, a desperate, childish plea. I wish I could just stop fighting the water and still live.
The voice was faint this time, muted by the river's roar and the fog in his mind, yet it registered the extreme, immediate need.
[Confirmed. Adaptation criteria met: Desire for survival in a submerged state.]
[Adaptation: Gills (Rudimentary) granted. Respiratory system adapted for immediate water survival. Cost: 5 Magius.]
A sudden, sharp, biological upheaval occurred. Minoru felt his throat constrict and the bone structure behind his jaw violently shift. Two thin, dark slits opened on the sides of his small goblin neck, pulsing slightly. A rush of cold water flooded into his lungs, but instead of drowning, he felt an agonizing, painful transfer of oxygen. It was crude, but it worked.
He stopped struggling against the need to hold his breath and simply let the water rush in, letting the skill take over. The terror of suffocation immediately vanished, but the relief was overshadowed by a new, more horrifying realization: the immense cost.
Magius: 9 (Start) - 5 (Gills) = 4 / 100
He had only 4 Magius left. He was alive, he could breathe underwater, but he was freezing, deeply wounded, and had almost zero power left. He was now carried downstream by the current, utterly helpless, a small, green rag doll with gills.
He could feel the river getting wider, the current easing slightly, the water temperature subtly shifting. He was no longer tumbling against rocks, but smoothly swept along, deeper into the dark, unknown forest.
The exhaustion finally claimed him. He couldn't keep his mind focused on the pain or the Magius counter. His senses dimmed, his eyes drifted shut, and he passed out, carried away by the river.