The pig squealed as it thrashed in the net, its injured leg twitching. I crouched next to it, my fingers brushing its bristly hide. This was just another experiment—a way to push my understanding of mana and life. It wasn't personal.
"Hold still," I muttered, forcing a trickle of mana into the pig's wound.
The effect was instantaneous. The pig jerked violently, eyes wide with panic as my mana surged into its body. My head pounded with the strain as its natural resistance kicked in, instinctively pushing me out. I could forcefully overpower the will, but that would defeat the purpose. i was trying to use less than the pigs will. If the pig had an will of unit measuring 10, I was using 5, it was to improve my control over this skill, I was finding gaps in its will, thus slowly but surely grinding that will away, I shaped my will will like a pickaxe, driving into its will, which was a will thus, making a hole in its defense and sending my mana to heal it. it took a lot of mental toll. but it was healed.
"Damn it," I hissed, pulling my hand away.
It was like trying to pour water into a sealed flask. The pig wasn't rejecting the healing out of malice; it didn't even understand what was happening. But its body—its will—refused anything foreign.
I leaned back, rubbing my temples. This wasn't new. I'd seen it countless times in my experiments. The stronger the creature's will, the harder it was to force my mana through. Smaller animals, like squirrels or rabbits, were easier to heal; their resistance was weaker. But larger beasts? Stronger ones? They fought me at every turn.
I called it the Rejection Phenomena.
"Still too much strain," I muttered. "Need more control. Less brute force."
Nibbles watched from a nearby rock, his tiny paws clutching an acorn he'd been gnawing on for the past hour. He tilted his head at me, as if to say, You're overthinking this.
"Easy for you to say," I shot back, wiping the blood off my hands.
Zainab perched in a nearby tree, her four heads glowering. One of them muttered, "Waste of time. Just eat the pig and be done with it." Another grumbled something about how I'd spent more time with wild animals than her lately.
"Not everything's about food, Zainab," I said without looking up.
Her loud huff told me she wasn't satisfied with that answer.
***
The earth dragon lay stretched out across the clearing, her massive form half-hidden in shadow. Her injuries were worse than I'd realized. Deep gashes marred her scales, each one oozing a faint greenish liquid that smelled faintly of iron and earth.
"You're staring again," she rumbled, her voice a low growl that shook the ground.
I shrugged. "Just thinking."
"Careful, human," she said, narrowing her gemstone eyes. "Too much thinking can be dangerous."
I snorted. "Says the dragon who let herself get torn apart."
Her gaze darkened, but there was a flicker of amusement there. "You're bold for someone so small."
"Boldness keeps me alive," I shot back.
We fell into silence, the tension between us thick but not hostile. I'd spent enough time around her to know she wasn't as indifferent as she pretended to be. She was watching me, gauging me. She always was.
"Let me heal you," I said finally.
She snorted, a plume of dust rising from her nostrils. "I do not take charity, mortal."
"It's not charity," I replied, crossing my arms. "It's a trade."
Her eyes glinted with interest, but she kept her tone neutral. "And what would you want in return?"
"My spear's useless against master-ranked creatures," I said. "I need something better."
She tilted her head, considering. "A fair request. But healing me will not be easy. You should know that."
"I've dealt with worse," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
***
Healing her was like trying to push a boulder uphill in a storm. The moment my mana touched her, I felt the pushback—a wall of resistance so strong it nearly knocked me out of focus. It was like trying to force a river to flow in the opposite direction, the current fighting back at every turn, trying to swallow my efforts whole.
I gritted my teeth, my mind narrowing to a single point. I couldn't afford to lose control now. Every moment was critical. I forced my way through, weaving my mana into the gaps in her defenses. It wasn't enough to just push through. The dragon was no mere beast, and her body had the will of centuries behind it, making it a fortress against any foreign intrusion. At first, my efforts felt futile—each attempt to heal met with a burst of resistance, like trying to mend a rift in the earth itself.
Her body was huge, her scales thick with ancient power. But I couldn't afford to get lost in the scale of her. I had to treat each wound as its own entity—isolated and manageable. I focused on one injury at a time, threading my mana carefully, taking advantage of every gap I could find, every vulnerability her body offered.
"You're persistent," she said, her voice low but filled with a curious edge. The deep rumble of her tone was almost mocking, though I could hear the grudging respect laced within.
"Shut up and let me work," I muttered under my breath, sweat dripping down my forehead, stinging my eyes. My hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the sheer effort of keeping the flow of mana steady. If I lost my concentration even for a second, the entire process could backfire. The dragon's body was rejecting the healing, fighting back with a force that felt almost alive. My chest heaved as I tried to keep the flow of mana constant, steady, threading it deeper into her flesh with every breath.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The world outside seemed to disappear as I became consumed with the task at hand. My mana reserves were dwindling rapidly, the energy burning through me as I fed it into her wounds. I could feel my own fatigue mounting, my body demanding a break, but there was no time for weakness.
The dragon's breath came in slow, deliberate exhales, and her immense body shuddered under my touch, every muscle straining as I manipulated her internal flow. The gaps between her scales weren't just physical—they were metaphysical, an entire landscape of resistance to my healing magic. But with each passing moment, the gashes began to close, the jagged edges smoothing out as I pulled the shredded flesh together with my will.
It felt like a lifetime of effort, but finally, the last of the gashes sealed shut, leaving only faint scars where the injuries had been. I leaned back, my breath shallow, chest rising and falling as I wiped the sweat from my brow. My body screamed for rest, but I was too focused on the moment.
"There," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Good as new."
The dragon's immense form shifted, and she tested her restored strength by flexing one massive leg, stretching her wings in a slow, deliberate arc. The air around us hummed with the power she had regained, and for a moment, I could feel the sheer weight of her presence in a way I hadn't before. Her eyes, once cold and indifferent, softened just a little. Her massive head dipped toward me, a trace of something—gratitude?—flickering in her gaze.
"You've done well, mortal," she said, her voice rumbling deep within my chest. There was a change in her tone, a faint hint of admiration that hadn't been there before. "I underestimated you."
I gave a small, tired smirk. "Don't make the mistake of doing it again."
Her four eyes fixed on me, glinting with something that wasn't entirely amusement anymore. "You've earned more than just my respect, mortal." There was a pause, as if she was still considering what to say next. "Perhaps... we have more in common than I originally thought."
I wiped my hands on my tunic, feeling the weight of her gaze, the intensity of her words. The air seemed to crackle with the power she now commanded. The dragon's expression softened slightly, though I knew better than to mistake that for warmth. She was still the ancient, powerful creature that had torn through foes with ease, but I had earned a place in her regard.
***
The dragon led me deeper into her lair, the air growing cooler as we descended. The walls shimmered faintly, the embedded minerals catching the light from her glowing eyes.
When we reached the treasury room, I couldn't help but stare.
Gold coins. Artifacts. Weapons. Trinkets. It was all there, piled high in a chaotic mountain of wealth.
"Impressed?" she asked, her tone laced with pride.
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I've seen better."
Her deep chuckle echoed through the chamber. "Liar."
She motioned to a spear resting against the far wall. Its wooden shaft seemed to pulse faintly, the metallic blade shimmering with an emerald hue.
"This is what you seek," she said. "Take it."
I approached the spear cautiously, my fingers brushing the smooth wood. It felt alive, humming faintly with energy.
{Analyzing… Artifact detected. Do you want to scan it?}
"Yes," I whispered.
{Name: Emerald Zix Spear
Rank: (D+)
Material: Master-ranked Wood Demon and Hykis Core
Attributes: Life Steal, Piercing, Force Absorption}
A weapon like this could change everything.
"You've outdone yourself," I said, unable to hide the admiration in my voice.