Our thoughts and emotions naturally affect our abilities to repair and heal itself, this goes for everybody. My skill only amplifies it to a high level where it seems supernatural, but there was also a cause, a link. We call this the placebo effect.
The huntsman looked like a human with a spider's head, while it faced me, and gave me a surprised look. Then it got in a battle stance, left its elbow up and behind its back, and the blade too facing my body. With great speed which not even I can see, it vanished, like a blur. I smiled at this.
"Gotcha," I shout, as a blade stabs my body, piercing my chest this time. The attack was meant to kill.
But I did not die, how could I? I had so much to live for.
"Unlike you, piece of worthless filth."
It was surprised by my shout, and more surprised as I grabbed its arms, not letting go. I tackled it towards a rock nearby.
The force of my tackle shattered the rock, and then I kept charging and charging, rock after rock until we reached a wall. I swapped my hands to its waist and slammed it back towards the wall. I lifted it back up and slammed again, trying to crush its bones and spirit.
I then dragged it across the wall, creating a line of broken stone and I kept running and then I jumped, holding its throat, and slammed it into the ground. My fist was then surrounded by barbed wire I created, and I punched downward, creating holes and holes, dirt flying, blood flying as well.
Then I felt my grip lifted, as with its strength, it started contesting me in strength, pushing me up. I was trying hard not to stumble, not to lose this contest of strength, yet I was failing. But then it moved its hands towards the blade still stuck in my body, then it kicked me off its body, blade in hand, stumbling. It got its balance once more; I did the same.
I then dodged to the right, as an attack nicked just my ear. I regrew it of course for using in the next course of attack. I kept weaving and dodging yet it seems like every attack seemed to hit, even so slightly. From shoulder and legs, cuts and wounds, and bruises, they all healed, all for my body to receive another attack. I counterattacked with a blade, only for it to get sliced, as well as my head.
I saw only the world upside down, my gravity no longer under my control.
That was it, my head was flying in the air only a centimeter away from my headless body. I met the eyes of the huntsman, as it flickered the blood off its katana.
This isn't the head. I still had it in me, I can still fight! My body dropped the hilt and grabbed my head which was still in the air and reattached my head. For the first time since the start of the battle, the huntsman seemed frightened.
I used that moment, to grab its shoulder once more. Pulling my head back, my neck always feeling like it was going to fall off.
I then head slammed my forehead against its forehead. The impact made us slam into the wall, cracking it into web-like cracks.
As my helmet also cracked, shattering it, showing my face underneath.
But then a primal fear shot from the eyes of the huntsman, still wounded by the attack. My body went different, my face and lungs felt heavier. I now understand why this lowly piece of shit was feeling fear.
Because in its eyes, it would only see a scaled face, red slit eyes, and a nose breathing in and out at a fast pace, but I wasn't puffing air out of my lungs, no. I was breathing out the flames from within.
My eyes bloodshot, horns sticking out from my forehead. I would be a sight to behold.
With fear it tried to attack me, I blocked it using my left hand. It could slice my arm off, only a few centimeters deep.
Lifting my hand and circling my fingers to form a fist, my gauntlet heated up to the extent where flames appeared, red flames.
And I punched with my might focused in that spot. As a giant blast of heat radiated from the impact, I could see, did I get it? But before I could finish that thought. I felt something latch onto the back of my armor, pulling me up, away.
I looked to see what the source was, only to see the huntsman upside down from the tall, cavernous ceiling upside down. Webs from its fingers latching onto threads that were connected to my armor.
What was most frightening was the eight legs behind its back.
There was no way it was hiding that behind its back.
I produced strong enough heat to burn the web as I shot to the ground, landing on my feet.
I then looked up and it vanished. I should have let it out of my grasp, its speed was too much for me to handle.
But then my body seemed not to move, what was this?
I heated up once more, the webs or more like the invisible threads binding my body were fire resistant.
This was bad. I then roared; my throat felt like burning. I looked within my sea of cards in which James would call it.
Only to see only one way glimmering with a burning light.
[Race: Draconic Borne
Rank: High Born
Background: A bastard son of a once almighty king of the skies, searching to prove yourself, you ventured to seek a way to have wings to soar the sky with your father, but you were not true blood. This filled you, with anger and resentment at your own existence, you tried to find solace in proving to others that you were indeed perfect, a true born.]