Feeling like he had dragged everyone down more than enough already, Vince was eager to act as soon as possible. Once he tried to stand up, however, the young Hound found himself much more roughed up than he initially believed to be. As if exhaustion itself wasn't enough of a handicap, it seemed like his regeneration too, grew considerably out of control. Huge, spiky lumps of crystalized black blood formed rapidly and excessively, covering most of his upper back, chest, shoulders, knees, and parts of both hands in just a few seconds. Caught by surprise by his own powers, Vince was unexpectedly immobilized by it and thrown off balance. Collapsing shortly after and hitting the ground with a loud thump.
"Ugh…"
He groaned, as a wave of dull pain spread through his body and yet another splatter of blood painted the cobblestone. Thankfully, some of the crystals shattered from the force of impact, allowing Vince to regain a degree of control over his left arm's movement. Still, the change for the better was marginal at best. Just as he thought that an opportunity to make a positive difference for once finally arose, he was brought right back to his knees and reminded once again of all his inadequacies.
'Once, just once… Can I just once not be a burden!?"
He asked himself, striking the ground with his fist. Just how many faults can a single person bear? An inability to use Blood Sacrifice, impaired regeneration, low physical prowess, and inexperience — it was all a vicious cycle. No matter how strong of a desire to fulfill his duty Vince held, he would always end up either unable to act at all or with his feats proving completely worthless. Why was he the only person who should struggle that much? Isn't there a limit to how much misfortune can befall on one's shoulders?
"Vince!? What happened!?"
Witnessing the sudden deterioration of her friend's condition, Cass's face was painted with an expression of fear and confusion. She instinctively rushed in to help, kneeling next to her fellow Hound. As soon as her hand reached forward, however, it was abruptly shoved away.
'Huh?'
She blanked out for a moment, having trouble understanding what had just happened. Did he really push her away? No… He would never do that, right? Cass strayed among her thoughts and not until Vince spoke to her, was she really able to snap out of it.
"You should go on without me."
The young Hound's voice was devoid of emotion and not much louder than a whisper. His hair, tangled and soaked in blood, covered most of his face. Yet, even with all this, he could communicate his intentions well enough. He was done rubbing off his curse onto others.
"We are quite far from the headquarters, but if you hurry up…"
Hearing all that, Cass lost her composure and without giving Vince a chance to finish his sentence, she raised her hand and unceremoniously slapped him across the face.
"I don't want to hear it!"
She called at the top of her cracking voice, with tears slowly welling up in her eyes. The hand that struck him was shaking, Vince could feel it, once Cass hesitantly tried to hold him once again. This time he couldn't bring himself to object.
"I'm not leaving you here. I'll carry you back to the headquarters if I have to."
"Don't be a fool, Cass… You heard Zachary, didn't you? You have to get back as fast as possible."
"Enough. That's only part of my order, the other one was to take you back and I have no intention of disobeying it. A Hound's purpose is to save lives… Whether it belongs to a few or many doesn't matter. As long as they are within our reach, we help. Don't give up on yourself Vince… There are still ways for you to grow. I know you can get stronger. I believe you can one day overshadow all of us, but for that to happen you have to push forward. You have to fight, lose, and get back up. Again and again, until you finally win."
Vince hanged his head low, but somewhere along the way, as he listened to Cass's words a faint smile appeared on his face. He certainly did not expect to hear a motivational speech right here and now, but realized quickly, that he needed it much more than he could ever admit. The young Hound chuckled quietly and raised his head. On his face, an expression of utter defeat remained. Yet… even on this wrecked battlefield, a glimmer of hope prevailed. It sparked bright in his dark eyes. The will to fight. The desire to help. It was all still there.
"You have your way with words Cass. It's a shame you became a Hound, the world lost a great poet this way."
Vince remarked jokingly, tightening the grip on his friend's hand and pulling it slightly, to let her know he was ready to go. Cass answered with a wide smile, before picking him up on her back and taking the first step towards the headquarters. Brimming with pride from her success.
"I'm glad I came through to you."
"You did, and for that, I am forever grateful."
Making their way back, Vince could once again see all the streets he passed through before. Once full of people, noisy and bright, this time they were hollow and grim. Even so, this painted a rather hopeful picture. With no one in sight, it could mean that the civilians managed to flee in time. If so, could it be said that his efforts weren't completely in vain?
"What are you thinking about back there?"
Vince's stream of consciousness was broken by the sudden question, which at first, he didn't quite understand.
"Huh?"
"You're awfully quiet, so I figured you'd be lost in thought. Mind if I cut in?"
"No… I was just thinking about the people I passed on these streets before."
"From what I know, they are all safe."
Hearing that, Vince breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank Gods."
"It's thanks to you, not the Gods… You were the one who informed them about the danger and gave them time to seek refuge. Take some credit when it is due."
The young Hound smiled at this remark. It was sweet of her to try and lift his spirits up this way, sadly he didn't really consider himself worthy of it. At the end of the day, the assistance he manages to provide is only the bare minimum, things so miniscule that one could argue they made no difference at all.
***
Pushing herself to the brink, Cass managed to reach the headquarters in a bit over an hour, almost falling through the doorframe. As the doors creaked open, priests and priestesses quickly gathered around the entrance and hung their stressed-out gazes on the two Hounds. The atmosphere tensed up considerably and it was apparent that only one thing could help it in any way. Unfortunately, what they had to hear this time was not a proud declaration that the Beast was dead…
"Get the messenger doves ready!"
Vince shouted, getting off of Cass's back and latching onto a nearby wall. Cass herself, in between her shallow breaths added another command.
"And take him to the medic!"
The clergymen were all much more used to giving out orders, rather than receiving them. Nevertheless, they recognized the seriousness of the situation and moved in to help with no hesitation. Two tall men eagerly assisted Vince in dragging himself to the medical area, while his friend was taken care of by the receptionist. A young priestess with long blonde hair waited for her to catch a breath, with a notebook and a quill ready.
"What is the message?"
She asked unsurely, not wanting to push the Hound lady too much.
"All Hounds have to be informed that the Beast is able to use Blood Sacrifice, even after suffering extensive wounds. Its ability works as a means of transport with unknown range. As such, Zachary believes that the range of patrols has to be immediately extended. It's no longer just the Cathedral Ward that is endangered."
Cass explained, watching as the woman swiftly copied all of her words down onto the yellowish notebook page.
"I assume you are here on Zachary's orders, but can you tell me where is he currently? Is there a way for other Hounds to rendezvous and regroup with him?"
"Not exactly. As of now, Zachary is giving chase on his own. There is no way to pinpoint either his current location or destination."
"I understand. Thank you for your service. We will begin getting the message ready at once, but it may take some time… At that, you can rest here or join your friend in the medical area."
The priestess explained, before hastily turning on her heel and disappearing in the hallway leading to the main office.
Cass meanwhile gripped the desk and tried to stretch her back. Overgrown with all those crystals Vince proved a bit heavier than she anticipated. With that said she would love to get some rest, but with so much work to do, it was sadly out of the question. She had to go back out there. She had to find and help Zachary. Just like she said before, she had to push forward.
'Fight, lose and get back up…'
She repeated to herself before taking a few more deep breaths and promptly storming out into the streets.
While Cass rejoined the hunt, Vince was already being treated. Slowly, one wound at a time, the lumps of crystalized blood were removed, then the area was thoroughly cleaned and the ripped skin was finally sewed up. This wasn't Vince's first time going through surgery like that, but like never before he screamed in pain throughout the entire, over an hour-long process. Every time the crystals were amputated and its anesthetic effects wore off, it felt like the medic tried to skin him alive. The sharp pain radiating onto his entire body was unbearable, for some reason much worse than when he originally got all these wounds. In spite of that, Vince did his best to push through. He briefly lost consciousness a few times along the way, but after what felt like whole days of torture, the excruciating surgery finally came to an end, and he lived to see it.
"So, how are you feeling?"
The medic asked Vince after giving him some time to recover. The Hound sluggishly tilted his head to the side and gazed at the man behind the surgery. His name was Henri and throughout the years he was mostly responsible for Vince's surgeries. Because of that and since he wasn't much older than the hunter, they managed to get along quite well. Henri was a tall man with a messy beard and a mustache. He had brown, naturally curly hair and dark, green eyes. All in all, he looked rather soft and clumsy, but on the contrary, his voice was deep and commanding.
"Quite good… What did you give me?"
"Well, you lost a lot of blood, both black and red. With that in mind, I injected you twice with enhancers, the ones that assist in refilling the black blood. It should help you get back on your feet much quicker… If we overlook the crystallization and the fact that it doesn't begin on its own, your regeneration is in fact quite powerful. One could say that in terms of speed, it could rival Zachary's."
"Yes, yes… Enough… If the faults could be overlooked I wouldn't be here. Where is my equipment?"
"Sword and clothes are right here, but the armor couldn't be salvaged. They will issue you a new one at the reception desk, once you are ready to leave."
"And when would that be exactly?"
"Difficult to say for now, but I am inclined to say about four of five hours."
Hearing that, Vince stood up from the stretcher and stumbled closer to the shelf, where his clothes and weapon were stored. His head was still spinning, but thanks to the enhancers, he already felt much better than before. He not only could go back, but he needed to. Fight, lose, and get back up. This was the last step.
"What are you doing?!"
Henri inquired, both confused and slightly irritated. He stepped forward and grabbed Vince's arm.
"Five hours would almost be nightfall. I can't wait that long."
"You can and you will! Don't you understand? If your wounds were to open, the supplemented blood would burst out into crystals again. If worst comes to worst the entire surgery would have to be repeated and there is no guarantee that your body would handle it!"
"Lives were lost because of me Henri… I should be dead in their place, yet I am not. Handle it or not, I am a dead man walking. This is a rare second chance and I will not let it go to waste."
"But that's exactly what you are trying to do now! Focus up, Vince! You don't need to push yourself this much. There are other Hounds who can and will take care of the situation. Zachary is outside, isn't he? It will all be over soon, you can just rest here."
"We can't keep pushing everything onto one person's shoulders… What do you think will happen if Zach one day crumbles under the weight of all the expectations placed on him?"
Henri frowned, taking a step forward in a confrontational manner. He clearly had no intention of letting Vince go and with that, he reached for something he thought would stop the Hound right in his tracks.
"Don't get me wrong Vince, but even if such thing happens, you are the last person who can make a difference."
Vince's face twisted into an unpleasant grin. He expected that sentence to be uttered, he was more than ready for it.
"Then whether I live or not won't make it either."
He countered with an unusual fire burning bright in his eyes.
Henri took a shaky step back. He treated Vince numerous times, he heard uncountable stories about how weak and useless he was from other Hounds and the man himself. Up to this point, he believed all of them, but now, a shadow of doubt crept up his mind. The man who stood before him at this very moment… A lot could be said about him, but weak was not the word.
"Now get out of my way…"