"Ah, crap!"
Nero crawled across the fungus-covered ground like some pathetic worm, his body screaming in protest with every inch of progress.
His left arm was still useless, dangling at his side like a piece of rotten meat. His leg throbbed with a pain so intense it threatened to drag him back into unconsciousness. Every breath felt like swallowing broken glass, and he was fairly certain at least three of his ribs had punctured something important.
This was what victory looked like, apparently.
He reached into his satchel with trembling fingers, fishing around until he found his last Essence Pills.
The small thing sat in his palm, looking far too insignificant for what he needed it to do. But beggars couldn't be choosers, and right now, Nero was the poorest beggar in existence.
He popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed.
