Neo stood off to one side of the third floor, watching the healer work through the line that had formed in front of him.
The poor bastard had a whole trail of wounded Awakeneds waiting for him, each one carrying something torn, broken, punctured, or poisoned from the climb so far. Neo kept his attention on the man while people stepped forward one after another, hands glowing, Soul Essence thinning, wounds knitting where he could manage it.
'A class like that would be useful.'
Beast Regeneration was good. More than good, honestly. But it was not the same as this. Not the same as closing a wound in moments, stopping blood loss, forcing a body back into working order before it decided to collapse. A healing class that strong would be absurd in Neo's hands. The thought stayed with him while the line crawled on.
The healer managed a few more. Then his hand dropped.
"I'm out of Soul Essence," he said, voice thin and exhausted. "I can't keep going."
