Jyorta glanced at the Crust-Mantle staring at him with killing intent; its hook-like legs scrapped the ground, sending stones flying everywhere. Its mandibles clamped on the barrier, unable to even scratch it. The psychic energy barrier was unfazed at its attacks.

The double door closed with a rumble. Jyorta took in a deep breath, feeling all the tension in his body wash away, leaving behind exhaustion, and a thumping heart. "That was close."

His brows scrunched, the pain in his left hand worsened. He was out of breath, his eyelids felt heavy. Jyorta dragged his feet, walking through the corridor, feeling the silence deafening. Echoing in his ears were the sounds of his heartbeats, which was beginning to thump faster.

He recalled how he fought in the Labyrinth, finding flaws in each of his actions. He felt he had barely avoided an accident; his emotional state was as such. The weapons were heavy, dragging his body down. He had to muster every ounce of strength in him to walk.

There was dim illumination as he approached the end. Once he made a 'U-Turn' and approached the flight of steps, sweat covered his vision. He couldn't wipe it off due to his armour hindering him. Jyorta shook his head a couple of times, noticing the droplet of sweat slide further down. Part of it had covered the hair on his eyebrows, lingering in the place despite his efforts.

Jyorta pinched a part of his armour, trying to use it to wipe it off. But, despite the part on his eyes being a transparent membrane, it wasn't thin and flexible enough for him to use. He flapped his eyebrows numerous times, continuous, watching part of the sweat get attached to the membrane. It was slightly better now.

Jyorta continued to climb the steps; his body shivered, feeling cold all of a sudden. His forehead though was beginning to heat up. His breaths also turned warmer while his throat felt parched. The path seemed longer than when he entered, seemingly never-ending.

Jyorta felt his vision destabilise, forming transparent images—copies—that didn't perfectly overlap with what he saw. He lost track of time, mechanically climbing up the stairs, feeling his body turn weaker and weaker.

Thankfully, the surroundings became increasingly brighter, the flashes of light were starting to be situated closer and closer. Finally, he felt a sense of accomplishment as he set foot in the hall, watching the counter to his right, glancing at the face of Madam Mila before his vision turned blank.

1:30 PM, Jyorta opened his eyes, finding his surroundings being one of white. His body lay on a soft bed, with a nutrient solution hung on a stand beside him; the solution dripped into a tube, transported into his body through a needle.

His body ached all over; he was unable to exert strength in his left arm. Also, his head was constricted by something soft, preventing him from moving too much. That was why he was unable to glance at his hands.

'How did I fare?' Just when he had this thought, he heard a series of footsteps, similar to a woman who wore heels and walked on a hard surface. A couple of seconds later, a nurse came into his view, looking similar to those fantasies he had seen in his previous life.

Busty, with an hourglass figure, and sporting a face that accentuated her looks, giving her a seductive charm. The lady arrived, gently taking a seat beside him, sporting a smile. She looked at him with a hint of playfulness, her expression one of a tease, as if she had found a fun toy to play with.

Jyorta looked calm; his heart beat at the same pace. Even he was surprised at his state. He wasn't the type to gawk at women with a foolish grin, but that didn't mean he would be indifferent. He would at least admire pretty ones, not to mention the nurse before him was a gorgeous beauty with a bust that was bigger than her face. Just the proportion alone would capture his attention.

"So, you have yet to exit that place mentally." A calm but gentle voice resounded before the busty nurse disappeared, like an illusion that had been shattered. A normal looking nurse arrived before him, the sounds of her footsteps being minimal. She had worn a pair of soft shoes.

Just when Jyorta was about to speak, she continued without a change in expression, taking a glance at his eyes, "You have been exposed to foreign aura and killing for extended durations. Your body has soaked it up and has suffered a reduction in most hormonal functions. It has only been a minute since you had fainted. I haven't treated you yet; first, take a look at the extent of your injuries."

An oval surface materialised before him, spanning the length of his body. It resembled glass, but after a moment of observation, Jyorta could feel the dense psychic energy circulating within it. He looked at his reflection, getting a scare.

His expression was akin to a malevolent demon, one that enjoyed blood and slaughter. It was twisted, a face he hadn't ever seen. His armour had been removed. He currently wore the clothes he had worn underneath the armour. The skin was falling off. Currently, it was in a half-peeled state, with many patches of such covering his face.

There were tears in all places, with the cloth soaking up blood and sweat. Only now did he smell a nauseating stench wafting from him, making him want to puke. The nurse calmly lifted his shirt, allowing him to notice many lines of blue and violet on his chest. Intermixed with them were patches of pink and red, showing signs of muscle tear and internal bleeding.

He glanced at his right hand, noticing the skin on his fingers had peeled off. Blisters had formed all over, with some having burst, oozing out puss. His left hand was even worse. It had fully turned purple, with patches of dark green.

It seemed to be rotting. A large hole existed below his wrist, displaying the bone underneath; dark crimson blood, with hints of black and green, had coagulated, solidifying into a pack of crystals, the texture similar to salt. Below the wound were many lacerations, parallel to one another. The muscles in the region were deformed, compressed beyond their functional limits.

The muscles faintly pulsed, due to the pressure the arteries exerted from within. Even then, the pulsation seemed to be getting weak. Jyorta also felt pain in his chest. Finally, he gazed at his left, finding the skin on them had peeled off, revealing the flesh underneath. There were signs of muscle tear and blood clot.

"Two more hours there and you would have died. We would have pulled you out ourselves if you had delayed by 10 minutes." The nurse pointed at his skin, "I'll begin treating you. Experience to the extent you have damaged your body this time."

A psychic arm seeped into his left arm, passing through his body. The nurse didn't try to be discrete, allowing him to sense her actions. This also served as a form of training since he would have to replicate this in the future.

The psychic arm first seeped throughout his left arm, expanding until wrapping it completely. At the next moment, blood spurted from his wound. It was almost black, forming a trail in the air as it floated, making a couple of curves before dropping into a bucket.

Another psychic arm seeped into his body, expanding until it outlined his figure. Jyorta felt the pain in his heart abate as the blood flowed easier through his body. His lethargy and numbness continued to abate as something was guided towards his left arm. As its pathways aligned with the blood flow, despite taking time, and travelling longer distances, it didn't harm him.

Blood continued to gush out of his left arm, turning from its earlier black to crimson. Jyorta felt light-headed, feeling the surroundings spin. He suddenly noticed the nurse had three heads and six arms. Her body twisted and turned like a snake, accompanying the surroundings that morphed into oblivion.

The colours were beginning to turn dull, with most of them becoming shades of red, blue, and green. Jyorta felt his body was floating in the air, beginning to spin. The moment the colour of the blood spurting out his left hand changed, the nurse inspected once before turning her psychic arm pale blue.

His wounds were healed; the lost blood and flesh were replenished. The surroundings that had gone haywire eventually stabilised themselves, finally grounded to reality. Jyorta could feel his body weight once again.

His pain receptors were cut off, allowing him to look at everything without screaming in pain. Also, he noticed the malevolent expression on his face beginning to subside. The parts of skin that were peeling off flew up, revealing new skin that had grown underneath.

The colours on his chest and stomach soon returned to normal while the blisters on his right hand were removed, the vacancy healed into normal flesh. He began to feel a piercing pain in numerous places, but the intensity wasn't severe enough to warrant his screams.

The psychic arm that had outlined his body slowly floated up, seeping out from his body bit by bit. It carried something from his body, a presence, a formless force. He gazed at it, feeling the familiarity. His eyes widened in surprise as the nurse spoke, "It is the aura of the Spiked Lizards and the Crust-Mantle you had encountered. It had invaded your body through a variety of means."

As his body was fully healed, the psychic arm pulled him up, making him take a seated posture. The psychic arm hovered above his head, curling into a fist, softening its structure a lot. It then slammed onto his head as her voice resounded, tinged with anger. "Just because Observers can't unleash their aura doesn't mean they can't attack with it. The Spiked Lizard had seeped most of its presence into the poison it had injected in you."