John lay sprawled against the jagged rock, pain screaming through every fiber of his body.
The sword embedded in his chest burned like molten iron, every breath drawing a fresh wave of agony.
But he clenched his jaw, refusing to pass out.
"I'm not… dying here…" he muttered, sweat mixing with the blood on his face.
He turned his head slowly, wincing as he caught sight of Caros lying motionless a few feet away.
The dagger was still lodged in his thigh, the veins around it darkening as the poison spread.
John's pulse quickened.
He's going to die if I don't do something now.
Pushing through the haze, John dragged himself across the ground, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
His fingers trembled as he reached Caros's spatial bag and began rummaging through it.
He pulled out talismans, beast cores, a bundle of dried jerky, even a folded pink robe that made him blink, but no pills.
