The Last Primal

"Urgh…" Drake growled, feeling the ache, the painful aftermath of the fierce battle they have just survived. Confused by the heavy weight that kept him pressing down in the void of darkness, he took a moment to gather himself instead.

They have just survived a fierce, brutal fight, two of those similar abominable creatures they have captive back at the surface in the camp have found them. Recalling the scene where the creature literally exploded with an outburst of energy coming from deep inside this Monster, Drake turned his head to the side, where a faint, and currently the only source of the dim blueish tinted illumination came from. 

His sword, Mort, the royal artifact, and sword spirit was albeit silent, Drake could still feel his presence coming from inside the sword. As if it was in some sort of deep slumber, Mort was calm, unaware of the outside world. The blue tint, a source of energy that was not of his own, surrounded his formless intangible figure as it floated in the void of space inside the sword. 

As clarity slowly returned to his gaze, Drake turned his attention to the weight that pressed on him. Scarlet, his sister was lying on top of him, her body listless, unmoving.

Drake frowned at the sight, trying his best to recall the last moments before he too, lost his awareness, trying to recall what had happened to her. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, how much effort he had put in, he couldn't recall anything after their individual battles erupted.

Like her, Drake too was focused on his own opponent and had no time to keep an eye on his sister at the heat of the battle. He had no clue what she had to do to win, what hurdles she had met, and what did she had done to ultimately be the last one breathing. The last he could recall was watching as her sister jumped over and landed behind the monster…

"Hah…" He sighed, gently reaching under her sister's body and slowly, carefully lifting her off from him, placing her beside him. 

Now free from the pressing, though light weight of her body, Drake could now push himself off from the ground and sat up. Yet, as soon as he made a move, he felt a sudden surge of searing, burning pain coming from his chest. He found his breathing to be still slightly more difficult despite the lack of weight pressing down on him. The stale underground air of the unknown section of the tunnel system they were flung into slowly filled his lungs, only to elicit even more torture coming from somewhere around the frontal section of his torso.

Realizing that he had probably broken, or at the very least cracked some of the bones in his ribcage, Drake frowned. With great difficulty, he moved his body towards the side, supporting himself with the uneven wall of the narrow passage, whilst he reached for the right side of his waist.

He lifted a brown, seemingly average-looking leather pouch, unwrapped its top, and without hesitation reached into it. The small pouch that barely held the size of a plum somehow managed to gobble up the entirety of Drake's right hand, yet showing no signs of strain.

It was a precious, priceless treasure that not many could afford not just in Higrove but in the entire kingdom. An enchanted magical treasure with a spatial enchantment. Inside the seemingly small bag, a meter by meter cubic space was kept hidden. Though unlike with the skull-faced ring of Number 3, this pouch could not be operated through a mental connection, it was not capable of recognizing a master and was available to everyone. 

Still, despite that lack of security, it was a highly sought-after item, not just by the higher-ranked adventurers of the kingdom but also by the nobility. 

His arms dived deeper and deeper into the space inside the enchanted leather pouch, with gritted teeth, Drake withstood the constant numbing pain and was searching for the remedy he should still have tucked away somewhere inside.

Eventually, his hands latched onto what felt like a bottle, he sighed with visible relief as he pulled his hands back. 

A golden-brown small vial was in his hands, with three small pills resting at its bottom all by their lonesome. Three small, circular-shaped, dark minted green pills, the last quick fix medical pills that he had kept safe for emergencies such as these.

Still, Drake couldn't help but frown as he looked at the bottom of the semi-transparent bottle in his hand. Three pills. That was all his fortune he had. Though they were indeed effective in treating the bones in his chest and easing up the pain he was tormented with, it would only be enough for treating one of them. 

Looking over his still unconscious sister lying down on the ground, Drake only needed a  couple of moments to come to a decision and instead put the bottle beside him. With gritted teeth, and with one hand pressing down on the area where seemingly the source of all his torment was coming from, Drake slowly dragged himself closer to Scarlet.

Though the broken ribs hurt like hell, he would gladly welcome this pain hundredfold if it meant his sister could be saved.

With one hand, he popped open the vial, throwing the cork further down in the darkness looming ahead of them. Taking an extra second, he took a larger inhale of the stale, damp air before his other hand left his chest and lifted his sister's head slightly off from the ground.

Using his thumb and index finger, Drake pushed open his sister's lips allowing a small temporary path inside her mouth.

Heaving one last sigh, he reaffirmed his decision, and lifted the cork, not hesitating any longer to pour its contents down the temporary 'hatch'. Making sure that the small seed-sized pills got down without any issue, he gently placed her head down in his lap instead of allowing it to rest on the dirt any longer. 

Soon, as he watched as the color slowly, gradually returned to Scarlet's face, a small smile began to crease his lips. Suddenly, the constant pain, the pressure coming from his chest no longer tormented him, but it felt increasingly irrelevant…

…

Focused on the gradual recovery of his sister, Drake has slowly lost himself… The pain eventually caused him to descend into a delirious state. When suddenly he felt a faint movement coming from her, he was no longer certain if he was awake at all, or perhaps was still dreaming. 

"W-what… W-where am I?" A faint powerless whisper reached his ears suddenly, waking him up from his reverie. 

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>>>Check out my latest : The Strongest Demon Lord in the Modern World<<

It's an urban modern-day styled story, with a reverse transmigrated ('Banished') immortal entity from the fantastical world of Nova!

Planned Tags and Genre:  # CULTIVATION  # R18  # BETRAYAL  # TRANSMIGRATION  # URBAN  # ACTION  # ANTIHERO  # OVERPOWERED (romance maybe at some later point)

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