A sharp pain explodes throughout Ronin's senses, rocking him out of his unconscious state and glaring crimson death at whatever or whoever is attacking him on sheer instinct. Much to his surprise, it's not the Wildfangs duo; rather than the near-silent woman with great thighs, the beast before him looks no different than a wolf that can walk on its hindlegs. If not for the taste of blood in his mouth, Ronin might have tried to thank him.

The two of them aren't at the Blood Hazing shore. The sound of waves is absent here, yet the scent of saltwater inescapably floods the grasslands; a few boulders litter the area and their hill is distinctly higher than the rest, acting as natural fortifications. The night sky tells Ronin he was unconscious for at least twelve hours.

His wolfish rescuer grabs a leather skin from his old belt, popping its cork and offering it with a growl.

Ronin can't speak their language but wolfmen like this aren't difficult to read. The human takes the offered skin, taking a small mouthful to collect the blood and spit it free before he bothers taking a larger drink. The silver-furred wolfman squats down, his animal-human fusion of legs making it easy to balance, and set himself on a nearby stone. By the time Ronin finishes his drink, the wolf's hand moves to grab a familiar weapon: Ronin's new sword.

"Human," he rumbles, his word slow and between normal speech and a growl. "Stagnante?"

Ronin nods, slowly lowering the skin and setting it on the ground between the two of them. He leans back and rests against the nearest stone, closing his eyes to rest and visualize his status screens. "Yes. The Blood Hazing... killed all of the others, I think."

All across the board, his stats are debuffed from wounds. Strength and Dexterity in particular are barely over twenty, almost a fifth of his normal stats. The wound on his thigh isn't bleeding but the damage to his total HP is too severe to ignore.

His eyes open slowly and his hands drift over the bite on his thigh, pressing on the bandaged wounds so that he can gauge the true damage to his mobility. The wolfman tosses the sword back across the way, watching contently.

"Human... Gaia... user?"

Ronin's eyes turn to the wolf.

"If I am?"

The pair remain motionless until the wolf's pointed ears twitch. Ronin turns and tries to grab his sword, only for the sound of a crossbow's action clicking into position making him pause. Despite being saved, this isn't something that he couldn't predict... but seeing a large wolfman wielding a human-made crossbow is only comical until it happens.

"Londelian. Know... me?"

Ronin shakes his head, slowly settling back against the rock and trying to relax despite the weapon aiming at him. "No. But I know that your people are persecuted by the Blue Pillar Faith. Not nearly as much as you know about me."

"Know... little," the wolf grumbles. "Only Gaia mage... survive wounds... like that. Only Gaia mages... Londelian."

"That's right." His red eyes look down toward the blade, then back to his rescuer. "But if you knew that, why give me back my blade?"

Neither speaks, merely facing one another down; Ronin is too weak to do anything, but the bestial nature of the wolfmen makes speaking far different compared to normal races. Beast races descend from the gods' monsters, each one taking on the natures of their patron that slowly deviates with every evolutionary deviant they have.

The Wolfman, however, is a second-generation evolution of the Blue Pillar's wild wolf. Despite their ability to obtain intelligence compared to wild wolves, their closeness grants them a sense of honor. Slaying the wounded is purely for survival or revenge. Saving someone, however, tells Ronin that there must be reason to involve himself with someone the tribes left for dead.

And that alone tells Ronin the answer without the wolf's participation. He knows that Ronin is a user of Gaia but isn't part of the tribes who came to collect or kill the newcomers.

"You need me," Ronin whispers, slowly laughing and letting his head roll back whilst the crossbow slowly lowers. "I get it now. You think I can save someone?"

"Not think. Know."

The wolfman stands up, easily towering at eight feet tall. In pure physique, this other Land of Stagnation resident could most likely beat Ronin in his current state. Fighting isn't advantageous for either of them, though, since it'd most likely result in both of them being dead. One dies in the fight and the other from his wounds. It's situations like this that spawned the tribes ages ago, yet forming a tribe isn't something Ronin or this wolfman wants. The wolfman gently kicks Ronin's ankle, making sure to tilt his claws to not tear at his flesh.

"Heal self. Then follow. Even after."

Without waiting, the wolf starts off and leaves Ronin alone.

At least as alone as he has been for months. His right hand drifts over the wound on his thigh, closing his eyes again and sorting through his spell menu.

[Manager] -> [Spells] Body of Gaia Inherited Gaia-type An Advanced toggle spell; Body of Gaia converts MP at a steady rate to reduce healing times, curses, and detrimental status effects.

Heals the user over time.

Every 1 MP spent generates 1 HP.

Every 1 MP spent reduces listed timers by .01 second.

Body of Gaia: activate.

Body of Gaia: activate!

Ronin's eyes snap open, immediately looking down at his hands. His mana envelops his body in a pastel green aura, swirling around the minor cuts from his training and slowly mending them shut. He smiles, looking back up.

"Brother, it's working!"

"Of course it is, I told you that you'd be able to do it! You're the future of House Londer, Ronin!"

A hand sits on his head, brushing through his hair for a moment before patting his shoulder. His older brother is already twenty years old, yet Sunai still humors Ronin's begging regardless of his workload. Separated by only four years, the two brothers spend most of the day training together and overseeing the affairs of House Londer's actual estate. Chopping wood, instructing the lesser-trained guards, and relaying orders to their father are only some of their responsibilities but Sunai handles most of them all so Ronin can train.

Unlike the others of his family, Ronin needs to train in secrecy; his parents learned Life Magic, Sunai uses Nature, but only Ronin in the entire family has access to Gaia. Of all the elements, its status is by far the most prolific; in the entire world of Brogdar, only five percent of all magic users can even acquire it. Those who learn it and stay alive long enough to master it can be counted on one hand. Being born with this element allows you to mimic the effects of the second most-hated magic in the world, Necromancy.

In the eyes of the Blue Pillar Faith throughout much of the world, both of these magics are considered vile; Necromancy allows you to bring life back from death, yet Gaia allows you to bring life. This distinction is precisely why the Dungeon Master of the Southern Continent was destroyed in a crusade centuries ago when he used his access to Gaia to start creating lifeforms and resurrecting someone's body to true-life.

Sunai's training is well-known and his blessing applauded by much of Londelia. In their small city-nation, there are none who don't know of his talents. But this reputation is an application made by their parents, willingly putting the older brother in the spotlight.

In comparison, Ronin's reputation is nothing but bad. Everyone sees him as a failure, not allowing him to train or learn with others at the Londelia Academy. Unlike his brother who's magical talent is known, Ronin isn't allowed to use magic and almost always loses his fighting. The day he uses his magic in public risks the Blue Pillar Faith discovering and coming to kill him.

Ronin's mind drifting to those thoughts apparently is openly worn enough to make Sunai sigh.

"You're thinking of bad things again?" His older brother brings his hands down to his belt, his armor clattering from the quick shift. "You've finally learned how to use Advanced-level magic; shouldn't you be happy?"

Ronin's red eyes turn, looking at the window of their house's private training room. The tree outside it has a small nest that has been there for months, yet the bird who made it hasn't come back since making it.

"It just... feels pointless. All of my magic only helps me. Isn’t Gaia supposed to let me help others?”

Sunai follows his gaze, letting the little brother wallow momentarily before shrugging.

”Who can say? Like that bird, were simply winging things.”

Ronin glares at Sunai for all but a moment before the elder of the siblings dismissively waves. “I don’t mean it as a pun: it put all that work into a nest, yet it’s not using it. Maybe it prepared it only to find a natural one. It chose a path it didn’t need... but should it need it, it may yet return. In that way, learning your magic even if you can’t use it is important.”

Part of Ronin sees that logic. Another part can’t help drift.

”But if I can’t use it... why can’t I focus on just learning Nature and Life magic? Or just one?”

”Because,” his brother groans. “Balancing your elements is the only way to achieve Master spells. And without mastery of it, why bother at all?”

Ronin grins, turning and setting his hands on his hips just as his brother did.

”Exactly! So just let me train with swords full time! I can beat up anyone and-“

The star-lit sky lets Ronin watch the bite wound stitch together slowly, easing the large wound together as he unweaves the bandages. Each wrap layer he undoes reveals more renewing flesh; layers of muscle and skin mending one after another, turning the damaged area as pristine as if it hadn't been harmed in the first place. Ronin's eyes close for few moments as the wound's bruises are all that remain, deactivating his magic and retrieving his sword. Exhaustion and the lack of a bath alone may break a new arrival, but this is far from the worst he's dealt with.

Ronin moves to join the wolfman, flask in hand and pouring the rest over it over his head. Blood washes down from his hair and body, much of it higher up staining his rags closer to blood than brown in color.

"You're stagnante too," Ronin cracks, finally tossing the skin back to the wolf. He squats down, snapping a long piece of wild grass from its roots. "So I won't ask why. Who or what?"

He reaches back and loops the grass around the bottom of his hair, pulling it taught in a soft knot to keep his long hair in a ponytail. Even though it has a bit of moisture, the blood in it makes it far too uncomfortable to keep it down. Even with primitive means like this, Ronin can at least make it less bothersome.

"One. Human."

Ronin closes his eyes, watching his MP bar slowly creep back up. Resting and healing undid a lot of damage but the damages from lower nutrition and the remaining wounds still sit him uncomfortably weaker than he'd like for surviving here. The sword settles back on his waist, moments before the ex-noble draws his still-clean weapon. Compared to before, the sword's weight is more manageable.

"If it's doable," Ronin sighs. "There are conditions to what I can do. But I can try. How many do we have to kill?"

The wolfman turns his head, grinning ear-to-ear as the fur up his spine stands on end. Bloodlust.

"All."

Even though their races are different and the crimes they committed may be different, the one thing Ronin can appreciate in this unnamed stagnante is his directness. Compared to killing monsters, people are just as simple and cost far less on the overwhelming average. Few things are right in this world, but slaughtering the residents of this island normally means killing criminals...especially if they're all stagnante.

"Fine," Ronin mockingly whines, experimentally hacking his blade at the air. "But if there are tribe members there, you deal with them. It'll be easier for me to handle small-fry with my skills."

The crossbow shifts in the wolf's hands, finally letting me see the bolt bags strung up along the underside of it. Straps keep it close, a shoddily-fixed dwarven bolt-feeder running up to the bow. It's a weapon that wolfman can't make on his own but could use with ease thanks to their strength.

"Agree."