"Hopefully this can keep me going for the rest of the assessment," Liam muttered under his breath as he pressed a clump of mashed leaves deeper into the wound on his thigh.
During the earlier clash, when he had been struck and sent tearing through the forest like a projectile, a jagged tree branch had punched straight through the muscle of his right thigh. The wood had snapped off inside for a moment before being forced out by the impact that followed, leaving behind a deep, uneven puncture that still bled steadily despite everything he had done so far.
Now that the fight was over, if it could even be called "over" in a place like this, Liam had no choice but to address it properly.
Normally, magic would have taken care of something like this almost instantly. A competent healer, or even someone with a moderate affinity, would have closed the wound, restored the torn tissue, and left behind little more than a scar at worst.
But Liam wasn't built for that.
