Apocalypse Healer - Path of Death

David's hand reached out to the levitating slate but froze mid-reach. The purple notification dissipated, and his broken, aching body began to glow.

Golden, sparkling motes materialized around David and revolved in slow, deliberate circles. His eyes narrowed to tiny slits, but even that was painful. He groaned softly, following the motes with his gaze until they disappeared. At first, they swirled around him, forming a shimmering cocoon, and then, in a sudden burst, they shot toward him.

All David could see was the golden trail they left as they seeped into the deep gashes across his skin. The motes carved a path through his body, spreading rapidly until every inch of him was saturated with their glow.

What is that? It feels warm? But it's not like the infection. It doesn't feel dangerous.

The golden motes settled inside David's body and dimmed, their energy seeping into him.

He frowned deeply and closed his eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening. Something was changing, though he couldn't tell what. In the darkness of his mind space, his Holy Sea appeared. It was still damaged—large, cobweb-like cracks covered the energy reservoir—but it didn't look quite the same as before. The cracks seemed narrower and less jagged now.

Dim, barely visible sparks glistened across the fractured areas. That must be it. Why else would the countdown trickle down so fast?

[4H:12M:58S]

Vigor flooded every part of his body as the golden sparks dispersed, filling him to the brim and then some. The excess wasn't wasted. It flowed efficiently, mending his battered body.

His skin began to itch. The sensation spread, burrowing deep into his skull and throbbing within his fractured bones. It was almost worse than the pain—except the pain itself had vanished.

[2H:57M:11S]

David opened his eyes, squinting as he glanced at his arms. Cautiously, he flexed them, though the gesture proved unnecessary. There was no pain left to feel.

His wounds were healing rapidly. Surprise flickered in his eyes as he watched deep gashes regenerate. Tendrils of flesh, muscles, and veins writhed as they knit themselves back together, sealing wounds inflicted by blades and claws. Even the hole in his thigh closed in seconds, just like the chunks of flesh the Kobolds had ripped from his body.

His bones were whole again. His rib cage had been fixed. The concussion was gone.

In less than thirty seconds, David found himself back in peak condition.

[0H:0M:7S]

…

[0H:0M:0S]

[The User's Holy Sea has been repaired and can be accessed again.]

David took a deep breath, half-expecting a sudden wave of pain to assault him—but there was nothing.

A thin smile spread across his lips. For the first time since the world turned upside down, he wasn't in pain. It felt incredible—until the pungent stench of rotting flesh and congealed blood hit his nostrils.

His smile crumbled. The smell was so overpowering it nearly made him retch. He barely managed to hold back his gag reflex, but nausea twisted his stomach into knots. It wasn't just the battlefield stinking to high heavens. David himself was drenched in bodily fluids: blood, sweat, chunks of Infected brain matter, and probably more unpleasant substances. The foul mixture was enough to knock out anyone with a weak stomach.

He pressed his lips together tightly, taking short, shallow breaths in an effort to adjust.

These golden motes. What were they? Were they from Bereth? And who even is that guy—and why was he watching me?

David sprang to his feet, his expression twisting as emotions churned in his chest. Anger, gratitude, confusion—they all collided within him.

Looking up through the shattered glass ceiling, he glared at the cloudless sky.

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"If you are…" He clenched his fists, his voice sharp and raw, "…fuck you! And thanks, I guess."

His thoughts spiraled as he stood there. If Bereth had instigated the integration into the Pantheon, then David should hate him. Billions of innocent lives had probably been lost because of him. And yet, Bereth was also likely the one who had healed him, not to mention the probable source of the slate hovering by his face.

Still, David didn't hate the new world.

He should. Death was omnipresent, and not long ago, he'd been betrayed—abandoned by those he trusted so they could save themselves. The memory burned within him, raw and bitter.

But even with all that…did he truly hate the new world?

David shrugged. Trusting Jack had been his mistake. It wasn't the world's fault. Not really.

He closed his eyes and focused on his Holy Sea, again. It was already replenishing its holy power, slowly refilling the reservoir.

The Holy Sea was slightly larger than before, and it seemed his holy power was regenerating at a faster rate.

This verified one of David's theories. He was certain the Soul stat was connected to his energy reservoir, but he had yet to discover how.

The Holy Sea had grown larger and replenished energy faster than before. But how exactly was the Soul responsible? Were the Soul and energy reservoir merely linked, or were they part of the same thing? How had the energy reservoir even formed in the first place? Was it something metaphysical?

David could sense the Holy Sea in his mind space and holy power gathering somewhere near his navel. Yet it didn't feel like a new organ had formed inside him. He hadn't experienced physical pain when it broke. Unlike his other injuries, the Holy Sea hadn't healed with [Cure Wounds] either. It was part of his body, but it was…different.

He also hadn't felt much when the Holy Sea first formed inside him.

Though he had learned to use both the Holy Sea and Skill Runes with relative ease, it wasn't out of understanding but necessity. Using every means at his disposal had been critical to his survival. But that didn't mean he had understood anything about how they worked.

In truth, David had yet to understand much of anything. The appearance of Bereth, whoever that was, and his evident interest in David only made things harder to figure out.

For now, Bereth could wait. Surely, there had to be other magical creatures like the Kobolds. Perhaps he could learn to communicate with them.

But was that possible, or was it just wishful thinking? After all, the Kobolds had invaded the Earthen Union. Their reasoning was still uncertain.

David ruffled his hair, grimacing as his fingers brushed against the half-dried blood crusting it.

"I should leave first. Change my clothes and…" His gaze drifted to the hovering slate, and he smiled grimly. "Bereth, or whoever's watching… Watch me all you want, but donate some Skill Runes and equipment while you're at it! I'm a greedy bastard, so open your damn wallets!"

That said, David reached for the black slate. A sharp jolt shot through him as his fingers brushed against its surface. The etched symbol flared to life, glowing vibrantly.

[You have discovered a Skill Slate]

[Draining Touch – Tier-2 I]

[Do you wish to use the Skill Slate to acquire the Skill Rune?

Remark: The Skill Slate can only be used once.]

There was no way he would reject the Skill Rune.

"Yes!" David exclaimed, fully intending to acquire [Draining Touch].

The symbol engraved on the slate flickered, and a flood of information entered his mind. Yet just as David expected the Skill Rune to form alongside his others, a dim red notification popped up.

[Skill Rune [Draining Touch] cannot be engraved on your Soul. [Draining Touch] goes against the Cleric Codex. The acquisition of [Draining Touch] has been rejected!]

"No! Hold on! I don't even know what the Cleric Codex is!" David shouted. "Give me [Draining Touch]! It fits my fighting style perfectly. I'm a fighter, not a healer!"

The system, of course, didn't care. The Skill Slate shattered as a new notification materialized before him.

[A similar, more suitable Skill Rune has been detected. Binding process has been initiated. Prepare for the influx of information!]

"At least it's…something," David muttered, the notification easing his fury slightly.

He waited impatiently as the influx of information hit him like a crashing wave, imprinting itself deep into his mind. Streams of light gathered near his other Skill Runes, illuminating the dark mind space. The glimmer intensified into a vibrant maelstrom of pristine light.

The new Skill Rune etched itself onto his Soul as its knowledge solidified in his mind.

[Skill Rune has been successfully bound.]

David hoped for the best, but the information entering his mind left him…confused. The maelstrom faded, revealing his newest acquisition.

[Holy Touch – Tier-1 I]

"System… I don't want to sound rude," David began slowly before abandoning his calm pretense entirely. "Actually, I don't care how it sounds." He cleared his throat.

"Are you serious? [Draining Touch] was a Tier-2 skill, and you're giving me a measly Tier-1 skill instead? What kind of joke is this?! If you're going to cheat me out of a well-deserved reward over some bullshit codex, at least give me something equally powerful in return!"