Zach struggled to open his eyes.
"Arghh…" He tried to move, but a burning sensation in his shoulder stopped him.
"I wouldn't move around if I were you," Leon said through the haze.
"Where… am I? What is… this? Argh!" The pain flared again.
Zach found himself lying on a bamboo mat in the back of a store. A bandage was tightly wrapped around his shoulder and ribs.
"You've been asleep for quite a while now," Leon continued.
The old man carried a bowl of thick green liquid, sat next to Zach, and scooped a spoonful.
"Here, take this," he said, holding it out.
Zach's vision had returned, and he grimaced at the sight of the liquid. But he swallowed it anyway. If Leon had wanted him dead, he could've done it while Zach was unconscious.
"Ahh… bitter." Zach grimaced.
"Stop being a baby," Leon muttered, rolling his eyes.
Zach gave the green liquid an intense look.
Spoonful after spoonful, Zach was forced to drink the entire bowl.
Each gulp harder than the last. When he finished, he wiped his lips.
[Health +1]
"At least it worked," he said. The pain was easing already. His wounds weren't gone, but they were lighter than before. The bandages on his left shoulder still made it clear how badly it had been damaged during the fight with the wraith.
The door creaked open, and someone else stepped inside. A girl.
She had blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a cold aura about her—like she didn't belong in this world. She glanced at him once, then walked past without a word.
Zach blinked, turning to Leon.
"Oh, that's Elizabeth," the old man chuckled.
"You even know her name?"
"Of course. She woke up two days after you collapsed."
"Two days?" Zach's voice shot up. "What do you mean two days?"
Leon gave him a long look before answering. "Kid… you've been asleep for two weeks."
Two weeks?
The thought hit him like a hammer.
Zach tried to stand, his legs wobbling beneath him.
"Where do you think you're going?" Leon asked, giving him a sharp look.
"Just outside. To get some fresh air," Zach replied.
"Like that?" The old man pointed to his shoulder.
Zach forced a chuckle. "This? It's nothing."
But as he reached the door, Leon's voice hardened.
"There are monsters all over the island. You're staying here until you're fully healed. Is that clear?"
"Hey… alright, old man," Zach laughed nervously.
It was strange. This was the same man who had pushed him to fight a wraith, yet now he was suddenly worried about his health.
'What's gotten into him?' Zach wondered.
Still, he listened. Days passed in a steady rhythm. In the mornings, Zach would stretch his legs around the shop while Leon cooked. Elizabeth often sat at a table in the corner, lost in thought, her expression unreadable.
'Should I talk to her?' Zach considered, but he quickly shook his head. 'Nah… I'd probably just embarrass myself.'
Most of the time, it was Leon who spoke to both of them. Zach ended up sleeping away the hours while Elizabeth helped with chores.
This quiet cycle continued until Zach's arm had healed.
---
When he finally stepped outside again, snow crunched under his boots in the ruined town. It had been so long since he'd seen the place that it almost felt foreign.
Time to see what rewards he had gained.
Zach stretched out his hand. "Cursed Tachi."
The air shimmered. Ice cracked and swelled as sparks twisted together, forming a sheathed katana that dropped neatly into his hand.
The sheath was leather, decorated with intricate vein-like patterns. Slowly, Zach unsheathed the blade.
A rainbow edge gleamed, its colors shifting with every slight movement.
The weapon pulsed with history, a tale etched into its steel: once wielded by an ancient samurai named Haruki, who had fought demons for over a decade before being betrayed by his younger brother Sengiro. Haruki's soul, too vengeful to pass on, had been bound to the blade, feeding on the souls of weaker wielders.
"Not bad," Zach whispered, scanning the pristine weapon. Finally, he had something to fight with. He didn't know swordsmanship, but swinging a blade was something he could manage.
"Shadow Cloak," he called next.
A black cloak materialized around him, its silky fabric flapping in the cold wind. It clung smoothly to his frame, blending into the shadows.
Finally, he tried the last item.
"Dark Scales."
At first, nothing. Then something crept up his spine, wrapping around his body. Black liquid spread across his skin, hardening into dark, scale-like armor.
Zach stared at his hands, wide-eyed, as the armor flexed and shifted with him.
"Now that's more like it," he grinned. "Time to hunt some Thyxars."
He held the blade.
So where were they.