The Orc King, seeing Leon's condition, gestured to one of his subordinates. An Orc approached Leon, carrying a small vial of thick, greenish liquid.
"He-Healli," the Orc said, offering the potion to Leon. It was trying to say "heal," indicating that the potion would mend his injury, but it was clearly not adept with English.
Leon understood the Orc's intent and took the potion. He knew that the Orc King wouldn't dare poison him without first obtaining the information he sought. The potion, while unappetizing in appearance, was Leon's best hope of recovering from his grievous wound.
He uncorked the vial and drank the thick liquid. Almost immediately, he felt a cool sensation spreading from his throat to his injured arm. The pain began to subside, and he watched in amazement as the flesh around his wound started to knit itself back together. Within moments, the injury had closed, leaving only a faint scar where the gash had been.
