The wendigo reeled backward, one elongated arm sweeping out as it retreated. Ethan raised his greatsword and caught the strike against the flat of the blade, the impact ringing through the clearing, in beat with the raging river beside them. His boots slid through the soil as his shoulders compressed beneath the force, and he instinctively pushed more aura through his arms and chest to keep himself upright. The energy responded perfectly, flowing exactly where he wanted it to, reinforcing muscles and bracing the joints beneath his armor.
Despite that control, however, he struggled to replicate what [Mana Infusion] could do. The simple truth was that his aura didn’t contain the same explosive power. It enhanced his body, strengthened what was already there, but it couldn’t force him beyond his natural limits the way mana could. Not yet, at least. He would need to advance his body cultivation if he wanted the two energies to truly compare.
Because of that, he struggled to raise his sword again before the wendigo struck a second time.
Its claws slammed into the blade, forcing Ethan’s arms down and nearly driving the crossguard into his chest. He twisted at the last moment, redirecting the worst of the force past his shoulder, but the creature flowed straight into another attack without even the slightest pause. It moved with speed, aggression, and savage instinct that boarded on graceful. Its body folded low before springing forward, long limbs covering the distance between them in a single leap. Ethan barely managed to turn before it crashed into him, one claw scraping across the front of his breastplate while it slammed into his chest.
Metal shrieked beneath the impact. Ethan was thrown backward, but he kept his footing, digging one heel into the earth and allowing the momentum to twist as [Steadfast] kept him upright. He used the spin, bringing his greatsword around in a heavy horizontal cut that struck the wendigo across the ribs. The blade tore through pale flesh with almost no resistance, slicing deep enough that several ribs were exposed beneath the edge. Black blood sprayed across the ground, steaming where it landed as his poisonous aura entered the wound, and for a moment Ethan thought he had done enough to slow it.
Then the wound began to close.
The exposed ribs shifted beneath its skin with a series of wet cracks. Torn muscle stretched back together, and pale flesh crawled across the opening until only a smear of black blood remained. The entire process took no more than a few seconds.
Ethan’s expression tightened. He’d known the creature could regenerate. The scars he had seen disappearing earlier had made that obvious. He hadn’t realized the regeneration would be powerful enough to erase a sword wound that should have nearly cut it in half.
The wendigo’s head snapped toward him as it charged again.
Ethan stepped forward to meet it. His sword rose into a high guard as its claw descended, and he caught the strike near the base of the blade. The second came from the side, forcing him to pivot and rotate his blade to catch the attack.
He answered with a short thrust toward the creature’s throat, but it jerked its head aside with unnatural speed. The point tore through the side of its neck instead, opening a deep channel that poured black blood down its chest.
The creature ignored the injury. Its jaws snapped shut beside Ethan’s helmet as he dragged the sword free. He drove an armored elbow into its face, feeling bone give beneath the blow, then stepped back and slashed upward. The edge caught it beneath the jaw and carved through the lower half of its skull.
Once again, the damage repaired itself almost immediately. In a way it reminded Ethan of his old regeneration. Which was saying something because he had the skill at a legendary rank.
“Of course,” Ethan muttered.
His aura still eating away at the world.
The energy pressed against the creature from every direction, seeping through skin, entering its blood, and beginning the slow process of poisoning everything it touched.
The wendigo had dismissed it. But Ethan could see darkened veins beneath its pale skin. Even if it healed from his attacks, the poison entering its body seemed to linger even if it was for a moment.
Ethan attacked, wanting to add as much poison into the creature as he could.
His sword descended in a two-handed chop aimed at the creature’s collarbone. Steel bit into its shoulder and continued downward, carving through the chest.
Ethan planted a boot against its stomach and wrenched the blade free.
The creature staggered back from the attack.
Blackened flesh surrounded the wound, the poison accelerating as fresh blood flowed through the damaged area. Ethan felt a brief surge of hope as the dark veins continued spreading.
Then the wendigo convulsed. Its horns began to glow. The damaged flesh fell away.
Fresh muscle swelled beneath it, forcing the poisoned tissue from its body before new skin stretched across the wound. Even the darkened veins disappeared as its blood was replaced.
His hope died just as quickly. The poison had worked. Its regeneration was simply stronger.
“I guess I’ll just have to cut you until you can’t regenerate.”
The wendigo leaped in response.
Ethan rolled his shoulder and brought the greatsword up, catching one claw before ducking beneath the second. He twisted into the creature’s side and dragged the edge across its stomach, opening it from hip to rib.
He ripped the sword away and stepped back before the creature swung its massive claw.
There was no caution in the way it fought. No concern for injuries. It attacked as if pain had no meaning, throwing itself into every exchange with complete confidence that any damage Ethan caused would disappear. Claws raked across his sword. Teeth snapped at his neck. Its antlers slammed into his shoulder hard enough to dent the pauldron and send a bolt of pain through his body.
Ethan answered every attack with one of his own. Even if the monster was faster, it was predictable. Especially as it rampaged.
But each wound vanished before he could build upon it.
The fight settled into a brutal rhythm. The wendigo attacked. Ethan defended, countered, and retreated. His aura kept his body moving, strengthening his limbs and dulling the growing exhaustion, but every exchange cost him more than it cost the creature. His breathing became heavier inside his helmet. Sweat gathered beneath the padding despite the ventilation. His hands began to ache from the constant impacts vibrating through the hilt and he could feel his aura running dry.
The wendigo, meanwhile, showed no sign of tiring. He was beginning to think its regeneration was even greater than his used to be. Which was insane to think about.
After another exchange, in which the wendigo raked its claw across Ethan’s stomach, ripping a bit of his armor away and leaving three deep gouges, it slammed its other claw into the flat of his blade and sent him skidding backward.
Ethan pulled himself upright and looked up as [Keen Sense] sent out a warning signal.
The creature dropped into a crouch, its claws digging into the earth while its head lowered.
For the first time since the fight began, it wasn’t immediately attacking.
Ethan’s gaze moved to its antlers. Faint blue light had appeared inside them.
The glow followed the branching dark bone, growing brighter as thin strands of energy gathered between the points.
Ethan cursed. Of course he had dealt with wendigo’s before, and after there exchanges he had hoped this one was lacking magical ability’s due to its level.
But it looked like he was wrong.
He rushed forward. Aura flooded his legs as he pushed off the ground, the poisoned earth cracking beneath his boots. The wendigo raised its head, but the gathering energy wasn’t ready. Ethan closed the distance before it could release the attack and swung for the base of the antlers.
The greatsword struck bone causing one of its antlers shattered.
The gathered energy destabilized instantly, erupting upward in a blinding bolt that tore through the forest canopy. Trees exploded into splinters. A shockwave slammed into Ethan and sent him skidding sideways.
He drove his sword into the ground to stop himself.
A smoking channel had been carved through the clouds above.
Ethan looked back at the wendigo.
The broken antler was already regrowing. Dark bone pushed from the stump, branching outward in sharp, wet cracks until the antler had fully restored itself.
The wendigo screamed and rushed him.
Ethan barely raised his blade before it crashed into him. The first strike knocked his sword aside. The second raked across his thigh, claws scraping through plate and biting into the flesh beneath. Pain flared through his leg, but he forced it to hold as he turned with the attack and smashed the pommel into the creature’s temple.
It continued attacking anyway. A claw slipped past his guard and struck the side of his cuirass. The metal held, but the force lifted Ethan from his feet and threw him into the trunk of a tree. Bark shattered around him and the poisoned tree collapsed.
He threw himself off the trunk and dropped just as the wendigo’s claws punched through the remainder of the tree where his chest had been. Ethan brought his sword up, severing the arm.
The limb struck the ground.
The wendigo tore the ruined stump free and rounded on him while a new forearm began growing from the wound.
Ethan backed away, chest rising and falling as he studied it.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He huffed.
He could keep cutting. He could poison it. He could destroy its limbs, crush its skull, and open its body again and again.
It wouldn’t matter. Without mana, he lacked the destructive power needed to overwhelm the regeneration. [Mana Infusion] would give him the speed and strength to dominate the exchanges. Worldfire could burn through the creature faster than it could rebuild itself. Even raw molten mana might be enough if he forced it into the wounds.
But his mana pathways were already ruined.
Using them now would tear the damage open again. There was a chance he could force out one final attack, but he doubted his body would survive it.
The wendigo’s arm finished regrowing. Ethan tightened his grip on the sword.
He was beginning to think he couldn’t kill it. His aura reserves were too low. Soon all he would be left with was his basic form.
The realization came without panic or frustration. It was simply the truth. His current abilities weren’t enough. Even if he fought perfectly, his aura would eventually run dry. His body would slow. One claw would slip through his defenses, and the fight would end.
His gaze shifted past the creature, toward the direction the others had fled.
He probably couldn’t out run it. And even if he did, it could still go after the others.
Leah wouldn’t survive a single hit.
The wendigo lowered itself, preparing to charge.
Ethan looked past it. Beyond the trees, the river thundered through the forest.
He adjusted his grip. Killing it wasn’t the only way to win. The creature launched itself forward.
Ethan allowed his sword to drop.
The wendigo closed the distance, claws reaching for his chest, and Ethan stepped directly into the attack. One set of talons scraped across his breastplate while he twisted past the other, then he released the sword with one hand and wrapped his arm around the creature’s torso.
The wendigo shrieked.
Ethan drove his helmet into its face and locked both arms around it, even as its claws punctured through his armor and into his sides.
“You’re coming with me.”
Aura surged through his legs.
He pushed forward. The wendigo clawed at his back, talons tearing grooves through the plate, and shredding his armor. He forced the creature backward one step at a time, using his weight, momentum, and every scrap of strength his aura could provide.
The river was only a couple yards away.
The wendigo realized what he was doing and dug its claws into the earth. Ethan felt his movement slow as the creature fought for purchase, its long toes tearing through dead soil and roots and its antlers raking into his head as they began to glow again.
He roared and pushed harder, wrapping aura around the pathways in his arms and allowing a small amount of mana to enter them.
Ethan threw the monster. He felt it lift off the ground and sail through the air the remainder of the way. His arms dropped in pain.
Its claw reached through the air and latched on to the gouge in his armor.
Ethan was pulled off his feet. The monster hit the bank and Ethan slipped towards the water. He reached for his sword, his arms numb.
The blade wedged into the ground. However it had the reverse effect. The bank gave way, they both slipped into the current below.
The water struck like a wall, slapping against his armor as he took a deep breath.
Freezing cold swallowed Ethan as the current tore the wendigo from his grip. His armor filled almost immediately, water rushing through every gap and dragging him downward. He kicked toward the surface, but the current spun him sideways and slammed his shoulder against a submerged rock.
He surfaced long enough to drag in half a breath.
The wendigo was several yards downstream, tumbling helplessly through the white water.
Ethan was dragged beneath the water again, his armor holding him under.
Ethan kicked violently but each time he managed to rise, the swell dragged him under again. His lungs burned. He could no longer tell which direction was up until a flash of pale light appeared above him.
He kicked toward it. His helmet broke the surface. Ethan gasped.
Ahead, a fallen tree stretched across the river on the opposite side.
The wendigo reached it first. Its claws sank deep into the trunk, stopping its descent so violently that its body snapped sideways in the current. It clung there, half-submerged, then began hauling itself upward.
Ethan reached for the same tree but the current carried him just beyond it.
His fingertips scraped across wet bark before slipping free. The distance widened.
The wendigo dragged itself onto the trunk and crouched there, water pouring from its pale body as it watched him disappear downstream, a look of violence on its face.
Ethan twisted, searching for something else to grab but there was nothing.
Then he heard the roar.
It had been there the entire time, hidden beneath the sound of the river, but it grew louder with every passing second.
Ethan looked downstream.
The river ended.
Mist filled the air beyond a jagged shelf of stone.
He tried to swim toward the bank, but the armor made it hopeless. The current dragged him forward regardless of how hard he kicked. His gauntlet struck a rock and slipped away. A branch snapped beneath his grip.
The edge rushed toward him and Ethan went over. For one weightless moment, there was nothing beneath him.
Then he fell.
Mist and spray blinded him as the waterfall plunged between fractured sections of the island. Far below, enormous slabs of stone rose from the haze, broken pieces of land suspended at different heights. Roots hung from the cliff face, some thin and dead, others thick enough to hold his weight.
Ethan reached for the closest one. His hand closed around it, causing him to stop violently.
He swung into the cliff. His armor smashed against the rock, knocking the air from his lungs, but his grip held.
For a moment, everything became still.
Water thundered behind him. Mist drifted through the gap. His legs hung over empty air while the root creaked beneath his weight.
Ethan looked down. The fractured island waited somewhere below, half-hidden by clouds and spray, he could make out the landmass below, though it was a big drop.
He tightened his hand around the root and began reaching for the cliff with the other.
Dirt spilled from the stone above.
Ethan froze. A soft crack sounded beneath his fingers.
“No.”
The root tore free, the broken length remained clutched in his hand as the cliff rushed past and the mist swallowed him whole.