Apocalypse Healer - Path of Death-Chapter 69B1 - Blood Experiment

David struggled to keep his eyes open. His eyelids felt heavier with each passing second.

The strain on his Source threatened to knock him out, and the spatial necklace’s relentless energy drain didn’t help.

His Source ached relentlessly, as did the rest of his battered body, and he didn’t have enough Blood to spare to cast [Restore]. His body would have to heal naturally.

David stood there for a few seconds, his mind blank, eyes locked onto the Grand Kobold’s body.

Fighting foes with Classes, especially a Mage who had already undergone its First Advancement Ritual, had been far from comfortable. It forced him and the others to adjust their tactics and play by intuition.

Maybe it would have been easier if our group had been bigger.

David wondered, his ears perking up at the echo of footsteps behind him.

“You have a hole in your head,” Melach appeared beside him, his face pale, his limbs twitching.

He approached the Shaman carcass with swaying strides and bent down to pick up the blazing staff.

“A magical armament?” The elf’s brows furrowed as his fingers gently caressed the fine lines engraved on the blazing staff. “Is it a system reward?”

David glanced at the staff briefly before his attention shifted back to his throbbing head. Now that Melach mentioned it, David’s head felt like it was bursting apart. He tried to find the hole and winced when he finally found it. Yep, that hurt like hell.

The energy bolt that struck his head earlier must have missed his brain. The other miniature bolts probably strayed from his heart, too. His chest ached—a deep, relentless pain as if invisible claws were wrenching at his heart.

David shrugged. He was still alive, and he doubted his life was currently in danger. But that didn’t diminish his need for Blood.

It was important to cast [Restore] soon, ensuring his injuries wouldn’t worsen, but the spatial necklace’s demand for energy was a much greater pressure. He considered removing the necklace in case the dimension stone’s reservoir drained completely before he could replenish Blood, but he felt like the pressure would help him work faster. That was not rational and seasoned with an overdose of craziness. However, that was who he was.

The looming threat of death drove him into a desperate rhythm that had kept him alive—so far.

This time, he used better material for his experiment. The Aether Kobold Swordsman hadn’t been bad, but it had been drained by the Obsidian Blade for a while before David intervened. A freshly killed Grand Kobold Shaman should be better.

There was no time to waste. He approached the carcass with the Obsidian Blade in his right hand and coated it with an incredibly thin layer of [Holy Touch].

He stabbed the Grand Kobold Shaman and willed the Obsidian Blade to suck the corpse dry. The soulbound weapon didn’t respond to his mental command in a convenient way, but he sensed several glistening specks inching closer within seconds. [Holy Touch]’s power spread thin and expanded slightly. It enveloped the Grand Kobold Shaman’s crimson motes and forced them into submission.

David drew them into his body, ignoring the potential consequences of his actions. Fortunately, nothing bad seemed to happen. The first few crimson motes were pulled to the Source, which devoured them like a greedy beast. It absorbed some natural Aether alongside and replenished his drained Blood.

The tension left his body as a small droplet of Blood formed in his Source. It glistened vibrantly. That was when he noticed something.

The Grand Kobold Shaman’s crimson motes pulsed with undeniable potency, far outclassing the Aether Kobold Swordsman’s. But why was its Essence so much stronger? Was it because of the Grand Kobold Shaman’s evolution path, its Class, or because it was of a higher rank?

Maybe it was a combination of everything. That realization would be invaluable in the future—and even now.

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He devoured more crimson motes using the same method until the first droplet of Blood was complete. Afterward, David grasped the Obsidian Blade with both hands. He increased the Blood input into [Holy Touch] and spoke a few Words of Power.

His Source stirred at that, but David ignored it. He didn’t need much of the Law of Blood’s power for this experiment in the first place.

Blood poured from the wound inflicted with his soulbound weapon. It didn’t trickle to the ground. Instead, it streamed along his blade, coating his hand and creeping up to cover his wrist and forearm.

David wanted more than a few crimson motes—he thirsted for a faster way to replenish his Blood reserves en masse. Nourishing his Energy Pathways, ensuring they could hoard more Aether over time, was essential for this task. Equally important was his newfound knowledge: his Source could rapidly form Blood since his Soul had reached the peak of the Basic rank, a revelation he eagerly put to use.

A wave of crimson motes headed his way. He sensed them as they passed the Obsidian Blade, their presence growing sharper as they poured out of the Grand Kobold Shaman’s body. They squirmed in the blood coating his wrist and forearm, entering his body when he conjured a thin membrane of [Holy Touch] across his hands and arms. The process was draining, but its efficiency made it worth the cost.

The crimson motes coursed through his right arm and Deryadus’ Arm, quickly drawing the Source’s attention. They were annexed mid-flow, devoured, and digested in an instant. The speed surprised David, but he pressed on.

In less than a minute, David’s second Blood droplet was complete, quickly followed by the formation of the third droplet.

Three?

He blinked, momentarily distracted, as a delayed notification flickered into his awareness.

[The third Drop of Blood has formed.]

There was no grand explanation for why the third droplet had formed, and its creation felt different from the second’s. Still, David wasn’t one to complain about unexpected rewards. He embraced the surprise and focused on maintaining the flow of crimson motes.

Once his Source was full, David didn’t stop. Instead, he diverted the crimson motes into Deryadus’ Arm.

At first, he’d considered absorbing and annexing piles of crimson motes to store them directly in his Energy Pathways, but the risk deterred him. He had no idea what might happen if the Essence of other creatures lingered too long in his Energy Pathways. Absorbing Essences to transform them into Blood was feasible and didn’t feel dangerous, but storing foreign Essence outside the Source felt like an entirely different matter. The very thought sent a chill through him—a warning from his instincts he chose to heed.

David carefully guided a few crimson motes, spreading them through the Relic’s reservoirs before pulling the Obsidian Blade out of the Grand Kobold Shaman. Only then did he notice the state of the carcass. It was drenched in blood and… inflated?

“What did you do just now?” Torb’s hoarse but drained voice rang out. “You destroyed our most valuable treasure!”

David frowned, turning toward the blood-soaked dwarf. Without a word, he filled the spatial necklace’s reservoir, stored the carcass, and stood up.

“First of all, that’s just blood. It’s not valuable to most merchants. The scales and everything else are still intact and preserved,” David explained in a flat tone. “Second, the most valuable part is in Melach’s hands.”

He imagined the gears in Torb’s brain grinding as the dwarf’s head turned slowly toward Melach. It felt like an eternity before Torb’s eyes finally landed on the blazing staff, his lips parting in a silent “Oooh.”

“Since you’re worried about your finances, how about you help me store everything in a timely manner?” David suggested. “You wouldn’t want to lose a few Bronze slates because we took too long to preserve the corpses, would you?”

Torb shuddered, his gaze lingering on the staff for a few more seconds.

“Of course,” the dwarf said, his voice detached. David nudged him and cast [Restore] to snap him out of it. Torb shook his head and nodded. “Thanks. I’m back.”

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His expression brightened as he looked at the staff one last time before rushing to gather the nearby corpses and pull them closer to David.

For the next half hour, David methodically gathered Kobold corpses and their armaments, his thoughts occasionally drifting to the energy demands of the spatial necklace as it neared its storage limit.

Their haul was extensive, and when Torb returned from the higher floors with even more goods, the spatial necklace was filled to the brim.

David was thankful his Source was overflowing with energy. The spatial necklace consumed a staggering amount to function, and maintaining its power drained him further.

“We better hurry. I can’t keep up with this kind of consumption for long,” he groaned.

“Let’s go then. We don’t want to break David’s neck, do we?” Torb said, ushering him along.

Melach groaned. “Honestly? Sometimes, I feel like twisting his neck.”

“Less talking, more running!” David snapped, stepping through the pool of blood and leading them toward home.

It would be perfect if the preservation enchantment sealed the crimson motes within the bodies.