Dark Abyss, Rocky Canyon at the edge of the shattered Wildes. A broken and battered figure lay lifeless on the rocky terrain. A few moments later, his fingers moved, accompanied by a painful groan that escaped his bruised lips. He tried to move, but a jolt of intense pain ran through his entire body.
"Urghhhh!!!!"
Alator groaned in pain, clenching one hand into a useless, trembling fist. His head throbbed, and the sound was like a drum beating in his ears. His eyelids slowly parted, but his vision was blurry. He blinked a few times, trying to regain his vision.
Alator didn't dare to move his body again; only his eyes moved around, scanning his surroundings. The place was dim, and the wind was cold and carried the foul smell of stagnant water.
Alator shifted his gaze to the right. He saw colossal walls of jagged, black, ancient-looking rocks surrounding him. The height was so great that Alator had to rethink if he really survived the fall, or maybe he was already dead, and probably in the Underworld.
"Yeah... I guess that should be the case."
Alator looked towards the ground. He saw a small, dark, murky stream threading its way around the rocks. As his vision finally cleared, he realized that the dark pool around him wasn't just water; it was actually his own blood mixing with the mud and water of the canyon.
Alator finally gritted his teeth and tried to push himself up. He focused entirely on his left arm, which seemed slightly less broken than the rest of him. Gathering all the strength left in him, he moved his body to the side, sending a sheet of agony across his ribs, but he bit his lips and forced himself to roll onto his side.
He lay there for some minutes, panting with sweat rolling down his forehead. He pushed again, scrambling forward on his elbows and knees beneath his trembling torso. Then he hauled his weight up until he was on all fours, shaking violently like a wounded animal.
Alator began to drag his broken body forward, ignoring the sharp edge of the rocky terrain grazing into his skin. Not long, he finally moved away from the damp, blood-soaked spot where he fell. He crawled towards the massive boulder that lay sturdy on the ground and rested his back on it.
After resting for a while, Alator checked his injuries. There was a deep, bloody gash on his chest as a result of the breath attack. The half piece of cloth left on him after the attack from the Bloodscale Serpent had been finally vaporized by the breath attack from the Silver-Eyed Wolf, and currently, he was half naked, with only a half-torn pant left on him. His hair was messy with dirt and mud clinging to his skin.
Alator shifted his gaze towards his right hand. His wrist was twisted and his left ankle was dislocated, too. But surprisingly, all other parts of his body were fine, with just wounds and scratches riddled all over his body. Alator couldn't believe it; he thought he would have turned into a bloody mess after falling from such a height.
Alator wasn't comfortable sitting down on the cold, wet soil with almost his bare ass, coupled with the annoying, smelly stagnant water; he really wanted to leave. But with his broken state, he was forced to stay and fix himself. He had seen several bandits fix their dislocated bones before in the outskirts, but this time, he was the one doing it. And honestly, he had no experience in this kind of thing, and there was no one here to help. Hence, he had no other option but to try.
Alator grabbed his right wrist and took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was about to come.
With a quick turn, he snapped his wrist with a violent, agonizing twist, fixing the bone back in the joint. The sudden action sent a convulsive tremor through his torso.
"Ahhh!!!"
Alator screamed in agony as his hand instantly became useless with excruciating pain. He roughly shook his head with his eyes squeezed shut, trying to subdue the pain.
He was panting heavily and sweating profusely. But he wasn't done yet. After resting for a while, and after the initial pain had subsided, he gritted his teeth and held his broken left ankle. With a gasp, he drove the bone and forcefully clashed it into alignment, sending a racking pain shooting to his head. Alator groaned, jerking his body back and forth like a crazy person, trying to stop himself from screaming out loud. But in the end, he couldn't hold it.
"Ahhh!!!!!!.... Damnit!"
Alator screamed in anguish, abruptly raising his head up. His voice echoed in the empty space.
After resting for two good hours, Alator scrambled through the boulder behind him and finally got on his feet. With his left leg being temporarily useless, he calmly began to limp, looking for a way out of the canyon. He continued to limp with his trembling right leg, and it felt like every direction he went was a dead end, walls of stones blocking every angle. But Alator didn't stop.
As he continued to move towards a particular direction, his ears picked up a crashing sound in the distance. He quickened his pace, dragging his broken leg through the muddy ground of the canyon.
Alator noticed a bright light pouring into the canyon. A smile stretched on his bloody lips as he hopped forward towards the direction.
"Wow."
Alator muttered to himself as he stood under the blazing sun, staring at the massive boulder like a mountain spilling water down the river in front of him. The sound he was hearing earlier turned out to be the water from the boulder crashing down into the river below. There were pieces of black rocks scattered on the ground.
Alator gently removed the tattered piece of pant left on him and the Spatial Pouch. He threw them on one of the rocks and limped towards the river.
Alator slowly dipped his injured leg into the water. An extremely cold sensation ran through his leg, stinging his wounds into sharp relief. He took a deep breath from the cold and slowly dived into the river. He swam towards the middle, ignoring the pain from his injuries. The water washed off the dark, thick clots of blood on his skin.
Alator stood inside the river. The river was deep, but not so deep it could swallow him up; the water level ended just right at his chest.
He submerged himself in the water for a while, taking in the cool sensation. He pulled himself out, catching his breath, and washed his body with his hands, scrubbing off the mud and remnants of blood before dipping himself inside the water one last time.
Alator pulled himself out of the water and took a step forward, but suddenly froze. He felt something cool under his feet, which was giving off a strong energy. It wasn't a rock; it was a bit long, metallic and cold. The edges were sharp and slightly jagged.
Alator sank inside the water. He carefully reached out his hand, his fingers closing around a piece of worked metal. Then, he picked it up.
He swam towards the shore and limped out of the water. Alator gave the object a look, and it turned out to be an exquisite silver blade spearhead with mud clinging to its surface. It had three pointed edges, with the one at the center a bit longer than the two on its either side.
Alator stared at it for a while. Even though he doesn't really know much about weapons, he has seen lots of spears, but what he was holding now was different from any other one he had ever seen. He wished he had a good iron ore to cast its shaft, though; at least that would have replaced the sword he lost during the fight.
He sighed and shook his head. He just realized that even if he had the ore, he couldn't possibly cast the spear by himself; therefore, he needs to find a blacksmith to do the job.
Just as Alator turned around, the spearhead began to radiate a strong energy with sparks of lightning sizzling around it.
"Huh!"
Alator stopped in his tracks as his gaze narrowed at the spear blade in his hand.
"Zap!—Bang!"
Mana suddenly burst from the spearhead, sending Alator flying. His eyes went wide in shock as he flew through the air.