“Find out.”
The Anchor-Bearer smiled with Etzel’s face.
DK’s Hellscript Greatblade remained suspended a few centimeters above its neck. Etzel’s spear was still buried in its side. Halven and the two C-Ranks stood ready around them.
Renn’s voice came through the communicator. “Do not kill any of the candidates.”
Etzel stared into his own stolen eyes. “Stop copying me. There’s already one of me.”
The creature’s smile widened. “Seven.”
Etzel’s expression changed. “Seven what?”
The mouth moved again. “One.”
Silence.
Seven.
One.
Etzel waited.
Nothing. No System message. No Witness. Of course not. Two words were not understanding.
He pulled his spear free.
The Anchor-Bearer twitched but didn’t attack. That was interesting too.
“Renn.”
“I’m here.”
“Can you see the status of all six others?”
A pause. Keys moved rapidly on the other side. “Stand by.”
Etzel kept his eyes on the creature.
“Candidate One?”
“Restrained. City-center team has it contained.”
“Two?”
“Engaged near the dungeon zone.”
“Three?”
“Wounded.”
“Four?”
“Trapped.”
“Five?”
“Heavily damaged.”
“Six?”
“Immobilized.”
Etzel looked at Seven. “And mine is currently being very cooperative.”
The creature smiled with his face. Etzel disliked that more every second.
“When did Three get wounded?”
Renn answered immediately. “When Five took a major hit.”
“How long between them?”
Silence.
“Renn?”
“Checking.” Etzel waited. “Approximately two seconds.”
His eyes narrowed. Not instantaneous. That mattered.
Etzel looked at DK. “Cut off its arm.”
Halven turned. “What?”
DK didn’t question it. The Hellscript Greatblade moved. One clean strike. The Anchor-Bearer’s left forearm hit the floor. Black fluid sprayed across the concrete.
The creature screamed.
Renn swore through the communicator. “Etzel—”
“Count.”
“What?”
“One.”
Etzel watched the creature. “Two.”
A voice exploded through the channel. “Candidate Two just developed an injury!”
Another team cut in. “Four too!”
Then: “One!”
Etzel looked at the severed arm. “Details.”
Renn relayed reports rapidly. Wounds. Same location. Different severity. Candidate Two had a deep tear. Four had a shallower wound. One had barely more than a split in its flesh.
Etzel crouched beside the severed limb. Halven watched him.
“They’re sharing damage.”
“No.”
“They all just got hurt.”
“Yes.” Etzel pointed at the Anchor-Bearer. “But they didn’t lose an arm.”
Halven went quiet.
Etzel looked at the wound. “If damage was being copied, six arms should have hit six floors.”
DK understood. “It transmits something else.”
Etzel nodded. “Exactly.”
The Anchor-Bearer’s face changed. Etzel’s features melted away. New eyes. Smaller nose. Dark hair.
Etzel stopped breathing for half a second.
Neris.
The creature looked at him with his sister’s face.
“Again.”
DK’s Greatblade moved toward its throat.
“No.”
DK stopped.
Etzel stared at the false Neris. The anger came. Fast. Hot. Useful—if controlled. He stepped closer.
“You’re trying to make me angry.”
The creature smiled. “Again.”
Etzel nodded slowly. “That’s bad news.”
Halven glanced at him. “For it?”
“For me. I usually have terrible ideas when I’m angry.”
DK spoke without looking away from the creature. “Usually?”
Etzel looked at him. “You’re supposed to be supportive.”
“No.”
Etzel sighed. “Family atmosphere.”
But his attention never truly left the creature. Why provoke him? If attacking one harmed the others—why would this one want to be attacked?
Unless pain wasn’t the important part.
Unless—
Etzel looked at the severed arm again. He needed another test.
“Saeva.”
Green light emerged beside him. Saeva appeared and immediately recoiled from the Anchor-Bearer wearing Neris’s face.
Etzel pointed toward the wound. “Small heal.”
Halven stared at him. “You’re healing it?”
“No.” Etzel paused. “Experimenting.”
“That is healing it.”
“Temporarily.”
Saeva looked uncertain. Etzel nodded. “Just a little.”
She extended both hands. Green light gathered.
ABILITY INITIATED
[Verdant Mend Activated.]