A spear had been thrust inside my chest just under the collarbone, and the impact was like a sledgehammer being blown against my ribs.

The pain was so strong that it felt like a fire going through my body, and at the same time, it took my breath away, making me stagger to the rear. As the spear kept hitting my flesh, scraping at the bone, and my blood spraying, I tried to breathe in air.

"DEXTER—!!!"

Ravina's scream was rough, near to desperation, and a sound that could break a stone very easily. I could feel her getting nearer, her breathing heavy, and already her arms outstretched as if she could grasp me before I dropped.

The raider gave a snigger, a deep, sarcastic sound. "You'd better be off in your little hut, boy!"

I cast my eyes downwards.

The spear had come through my chest, the wood stained with my blood, and the point gleaming as it had gone through muscle and vein.

Someone!

Just before anyone else, Ravina was with me.

Her hands grabbed me; her face was stretched with terror. "No, no, NO—!" She was frantic in her attempts to bandage the wound as her tearing fingers pushed on the injury that was warm and thick with blood, staining her hands and dripping down between her fingers.

"Me—!" Her voice weakened as tears ran down her cheeks.

"I brought you here! I promised you'd be safe—!" Her other hand grabbed the spear, her knuckles white. "I swore—!"

A cough tore through me, thick and wet—blood bubbling at my lips. The pain was a white-hot brand searing through my ribs, but beneath it, I knew my Healing Factor would kick in. So why the hell wasn't it working? Fuck.

Motherfucker.

In my hurry, in my arrogance—

I'd forgotten to use Eternal Vitality to strengthen my body.

Dumb fuck.

AM I GOING TO DIE—AGAIN?

The thought terrified me.

Sabina stopped next to us, her spear still dripping and her face looking mad. "Sister Ravina, move—!" she said sharply, but Ravina didn't listen. She was crying, pressed her hands to my wound, and was shaking her body.

"You should have listened!" she exclaimed, her voice breaking. "You should have hidden—!"

Out of nowhere, I felt a comforting sensation in my chest that expelled the pain, connected the skin, and sealed the veins. I felt the spear change position, the stone making a thud sound as my body rejected it, pushing it out like a splinter.

Ravina took a breath at the spear escape, making a loud noise. The wound was closing, the blood was slowing down, then it stopped, the skin was closing as if it was water covering a broken surface.

"W-what…?" Her hands hovered over my chest, her eyes wide with disbelief. "H-how—?!"

I stood up.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

My chest was smooth. Unmarked. Not even a scar.

Fuck.

Was the Healing Factor trying to scare me to death? It should've started working instantly. But no—it let me feel every second of that agony, every rip of flesh, every drop of blood—

Then it fixed me.

Phew.

The pain was gone.

But the blood remained—dried in streaks down my skin, soaking Ravina's hands, staining the earth beneath me like a sacrifice to the gods of war.

I turned to the raider.

He was staring.

His men were staring.

Even Sabina was staring, her spear lowered, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide with something between awe and terror.

I grinned.

"Your turn."

The raiders on the other side of the clearing froze. Their eyes popped open, their faces paling as they stumbled back.

Ravina and Sabina stared at me, eyes wide—shocked. I snatched my fallen spear from the dirt, its magic still humming in my grip.

I'd already botched my chance to look invincible once. Not this time. No more half-measures. No more brawling with bare hands. If they wanted a fight, I'd give them a war—a bazooka blast to erase them all.

But first, I burned Eternal Vitality, trading years of my life for power. My body twisted—muscles knitting tighter, bones hardening like forged steel.

The Healing Factor surged in response, patching the lifespan I torched as fast as I spent it. Good. The spears that had skewered me before? They wouldn't even scratch me now. Pain was a lesson—I'd learned it well.

I focused.

A surge of energy rippled through my fingers, the spear's form shuddering as if alive. The wood twisted, warped—not like breaking, but like molten metal reshaping itself.

The tip elongated, thickened, and darkened into a gleaming black barrel. The shaft expanded, bulging with mechanical precision, ridges and grooves forming along its length. A trigger materialized beneath my fingers, cold and smooth, as if it had always been there.

A low, electronic hum filled the air, the weapon vibrating with power.

The raiders froze.

Their eyes bulged, their jaws slack with terror.

"W-what in the name of the gods—?!" one stammered, his voice cracking.

"That's—! That's witchcraft—!" another shrieked, stumbling back.

"D-devil! Devil's weapon—!" a third wailed, his face pale as death.

Ravina and Sabina gasped behind me.

"Dexter—! What is that—?!" Ravina, breathless, her fingers clutching my shoulder.

"By the ancestors—!" Sabina spat, her spear dropping a notch as her eyes locked on the thing in my grip.

Honestly, I think the entire planet momentarily stopped what it was doing when that bazooka just blinked into being. It was such a black thing—like, more black than your ex's soul kind of black. The barrel had this strange glow, as if it had been oiled with a greasy rainbow, and the way it reflected light was really unsettling to me.

The muzzle? You could jam a grown man's fist in there, easy, and the rim was all chewed up with these runes that throbbed, almost like veins under skin. The handle bit into my hands, cold as a grave and twitching with something hungry. I half expected it to start breathing, honestly.

Cue instant chaos. Raiders? Lost their collective minds.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE ANCIENT GODS—?!" Big dude with an axe—looked like he ate rocks for breakfast—tripped over his own feet. His face? Pure panic, wide eyes showing so much white it was like he'd seen a ghost, lips curled up in a snarl that screamed I-don't-want-none-of-that.

"THAT'S NO WEAPON—! THAT'S DEVIL'S WORK—!" A scrawny looter dropped his stolen spear, his hands shaking so hard I could hear his teeth chattering.

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