If there was one thing Symon had learned since waking up alone in the Wastes, it was that a careful plan can make all the difference in the world. Monsters could be declawed through cautious preparation, playing to your strengths, and emphasising their weaknesses. But sometimes, that just wasn't possible to do.

  This was one of those times.

  As twin jets of fire flamethrowered out of the wolf's horns, it was all he could do to cross his arms over his face and roll to the side. The flames washed over him for only a brief moment, but even that was far too long. It was like the time he'd, as a child, opened up the oven and stuck his face in to get a better look at the Christmas ham, only much, much worse. Once he'd completed his roll and he was free of the flames, he drew in a breath of scalding air that made his scorched throat protest angrily, forcing out a wracking cough as he tried to focus on his opponent. He could hear the shouts and growls behind him but put them out of his mind. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

  His upper body looked pink, like the world's worst case of sunburn, but he wasn't actively on fire. The wolf was still channelling flames from its horns in Symon's previous location, seemingly unable to see well with the blinding flames pouring from his forehead. It wasn't completely clueless, something it proved as it swivelled to face him again once he was clear of the flames.

  Doing his best to delay and allow the healing to soothe his aching skin, he once more dodged to the side. In response, the monster braced itself like a fireman holding onto a high-pressure hose as it quickly whipped its head to the side, sending a lash of flame chasing after Symon as he circled the wolf.

  He barely threw himself down onto the dirt in time, the wave of fire passing over his prone form and continuing on for several metres before slowing down and petering out. The flame attack seemed powerful, but equally difficult to control. Safiya would have done much better, being able to dodge the unwieldy flames and getting into stabbing range easily, but his friends had their own opponents to deal with.

  I can't just keep delaying and letting it burn through my vitality, Symon thought. I've got to do something, now, while it's still recovering!

  Dreading what was to come, he grit his teeth and pushed himself to his feet, maintaining his white-knuckled grip on his sword the entire time. Without wasting a second, he charged directly for the wolf. It was a dozen metres away, not nearly close enough for him to get into melee range before it brought the flames back to bear on him... but he accepted that.

  His Running passive enabled him to make it further than he'd expected — just over halfway — before his canine foe had him back in its sights. Once more, he covered his face, but instead of attempting to dodge, he continued onwards. The wolf reacted predictably, but just because he knew it was going to happen didn't make it any easier to get through.

  Even through his closed eyes, the world turned red as the wave of flame washed over him. Even though he knew it was just fire, it felt like a physical wall had slammed into him. Prickling pain covered the top half of his body, and he could already feel the vitality rushing out of his vessel. The pain quickly ramped up, the sensation strong enough to wash away his awareness of his vessel.

  The horrible heat battered into him, tears streaming from his eyes that rapidly turned to steam, but he pushed on. Once more, he lamented the lack of power that Pain Resistance had, but the fact that he was aware enough to even do so meant it must have been working overtime. Without it, he would have been thrashing mindlessly on the ground.

  Still, he pressed on. Every second, the pain worsened, his skin tightening and releasing a fresh wave of torment on each and every shaky step. A sudden, involuntary cough let the flames and superheated air in, blistering his throat and crisping his lungs.

  Up until now, Symon had been silently enduring the torture. That was no longer true.

  Uncaring that it would only worsen the problem, he shouted out his pain and rage, the long, drawn-out sound transitioning into a hoarse scream as his abused throat finally gave in.

  But Symon didn't. He needed to kill this wolf, now. His friends needed him.

  I'm not going to let you... take another one of them, he thought. Serik had died because he hadn't been strong enough to defeat the razor stalker, hadn't been fast enough to get to him, and hadn't been strong enough to heal his mortal wounds. He needed more.

  In a blinding world of flames and pain, Symon felt a familiar sensation. A connection snapped into place, a part of him reaching through the fire and yet not being burned.

  He grinned savagely, his melting and blistered lips cracking as a sudden stream of vitality poured in through the connection. His starved vessel welcomed the rush of vital energy, his magic taking his rapidly refilling reserves and sending it out through his body as he commanded Seize to its maximum speed. He didn't dare to open his eyes or remove his arm from covering them, but he could still feel where the thread was pointed.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  It felt like he'd been walking through the flames for an eternity, but really, it couldn't have been more than ten seconds. With renewed vigour, he followed the trail of his thread, every pulse of vitality he received pulling him closer and closer. Even if he'd had a full vessel, his healing wasn't nearly fast enough to match the speed the flames damaged him, but he had a simple — not that he was currently capable of anything complex — plan to solve that problem.

  The wolf had already shown it had difficulties controlling the fire. It wouldn't be able to fight up close without turning it off.

  He couldn't sense the wolf itself, but he could sense where his thread ended, which was good enough. Raising his sword, he brought it down with all the force his weakened body could bear. His nerves were too fried for him to feel the impact, but the effect was obvious.

  All of a sudden, the flames died.

  Hesitantly, he cracked open his eyelids and moved the arm he'd been using to protect his face back to his side. There in front of him was the wolf, his sword buried halfway into his forehead.

  Huh. That was easy.

  The monster's legs flopped out from under it, Symon's grip on his sword being the only thing that held it mostly upright. He did his best to ignore the protestations of his body, as well as the shouts, screams, and the cracking roar of fire behind him. Instead, he focused on ripping every last shred of vitality free before the creature finally died.

  "You... cunt..." Symon gasped out at the wolf as the light in its eyes slowly faded. The pain had been horrific. It still was, too, albeit slightly less so than when the flames were actively burning him. Looking down at himself, he winced. Even that just that simple action caused more pain.

  The wolf must have been targetting his torse, as his legs and head had suffered mostly minor wounds, at least relatively speaking. His chest and stomach were another story. If he'd had the best Earth doctors to immediately treat him, he would probably have survived, but he would have been disfigured for the rest of his life. His front was coated in third-degree burns, and that was only the beginning. In a few places, the flames had reached all the way through his skin and into his muscle, although thankfully it hadn't lasted long enough to do much deep tissue damage.

  Not wanting to leave it up to chance, he took control of his flowing vitality and began an expanding sweep. He started by holding it over his vital organs, then slowly releasing it and allowing it to spread further and further. Once he saw that nothing inside him was sucking up the vitality, he was content to let the tiny amount left in his vessel do its own thing.

  He still looked horribly burned from the outside — because he was — but everything past the skin was now healed. In effect, he'd lowered the degree of his burns. This meant the only thing currently impacting him was the pain, which was currently a dull, warm throb that encompassed most of his body. With a now empty vessel, that wouldn't be getting any better unless he did something to change it.

  The only way out is through, Symon thought as he turned his attention back to the ongoing fight. Ideally, he would have tracked everything that was going on in the back of his mind, but it just wasn't possible for him to multitask like that when he was being barbequed.

  Looking back at the fight, it seemed like the two sides had mostly stalemated. There were four other wolves still alive out there, meaning there were two more than he'd originally thought, but one of them was already badly wounded, a large slice across its side dripping blood onto the forest floor.

  Atabek had some minor burns, but they didn't seem to be slowing him down much as he circled the largest wolf, his opponent also doing the same. Safiya and Aslan seemed healthy, although his shield had a few wisps of steam trailing from it. Symon found it unwise to use a metal shield to block fire, but he had to admit that it seemed to be working just fine, although he wasn't sure why the heat didn't just transfer to Aslan's arm.

  To his surprise, none of the wolves were using their fire. He hoped that meant they were out of mana, and not that they were saving it for him. There was no more use theorizing, so he made his way towards the injured wolf.

  It was backing away slowly from the fight, limping heavily as it favoured one side.

  Symon stiffly followed after it, doing his best to ignore the pain. In comparison to what he'd had to go through while inside the inferno itself, this was practically a nice stroll through a park. Safiya noticed him walk past, her eyes widening in horror as she took in his condition, but he waved her off. He didn't want help killing the wounded wolf — in fact, he needed to keep it alive for as long as possible.

  He sheathed his sword and quickly began taking the club off from where he'd strapped it to his back. After the brawl with that crazy builder, he'd asked the others for help on how to make a quick release. He didn't want to be scrabbling with a rope for longer than he'd needed to, but Safiya had shown him a useful knot. Pulling on a free piece of the thin rope, the club was freed and landed softly in his outstretched hand. The sensation in his extremities was numb and muted, but he still managed it much quicker than the last time.

  Hefting the club, he approached the retreating wolf. He didn't run, simply keeping pace with it until it reached a thick cluster of bushes and stopped, unable to retreat any further. It growled at him, its hackles raised, but no more magical fire came from its horns.

  Oh thank God, I was really hoping it hadn't just been saving it.

  The plant life around him had been providing the barest trickle of vitality, enough that Symon almost couldn't feel it. At this rate, it would take hours to heal himself back to normal. Of course, he wouldn't be maintaining the same rate for long.

  He focused his will onto Seize's thread manifestation, guiding it toward the wolf. It reached out hungrily, though at five metres away, it was just barely out of range. Taking another small step forward, the thread managed to brush against the tip of its outstretched paw. Once it touched, the connection snapped into place.

  Instinctively, he started to empower the draining, but quickly changed his mind. As long as he allowed it to drain in its passive mode, it would be much harder to detect. A significant part of the danger of his magic was that the draining itself wasn't felt, just the weakness once it had taken enough. When empowered, it was described as an icy sensation, but he decided to save that for later.

  Empowering it with his focus wasn't a massive bonus — around a quarter stronger than when he left it alone — so this still slowly refilled his reserves, even as part of it was drained away to heal his damaged and destroyed skin.

  By the time the wolf realised something was wrong, it would already be too late.