Dalitz scoffed. “No healer can do that! What are you—” Dalitz cut himself off, his eyes growing wide as though he’d just realized something. “I see. That defiant look in your eyes. I remember now. You’re the brat who stole a fortune from my safe!”
“Took you long enough. I don’t like that you remembered that, though. That was a false accusation.”
“I’ll eradicate you.”
“Will you just listen?”
Dalitz roared skyward, two more arms bursting from his back as the muscles on his legs swelled to more than twice their size. He kicked the ground behind him, the force of the impact sending gravel scattering around as he shot forward like a bullet.
“Uh, what?” Zenos quickly crossed his arms, activating a protective spell. A powerful shock wave shook the air as the two men crashed into the forest behind them, entangled.
“I’ll eradicate you!” Dalitz growled, his six arms continuing to deliver blow after powerful blow, mowing down the trees in their path. The sounds of his strikes echoed through the forest as the air whipped around them, grazing his cheeks.
Zenos was protected by magic, but there was no clear chance of victory like this. And since multiple types of magic couldn’t be cast simultaneously, a mistake when switching spells could’ve been fatal.
“Scalpel,” he chanted, seizing a brief opening to activate the spell, slicing one of the arms clean off.
“Raaaah!” With a shout, however, Dalitz regenerated his arm from the stump, and the flurry of attacks resumed.
The two emerged from the forest once more, back at the site where the orphanage’s ruins remained. Heaving, Zenos scratched his head in frustration.
“Can you just chill for a second?” Zenos huffed. “You could be a little nicer! I was one of your old charges, you know.”
“Nonsense. I’m the future king of the underworld. You are but a pebble to kick out of the way.”
“In one ear, out the other. As always.”
“Zenos!” Liz called out. “Dalitz said he’s had regenerative cells implanted!”
“Regenerative cells, huh?” Zenos echoed. “I see.”
“Raaah!” Dalitz shouted as he charged forward again, but the healer dodged, slicing off one of the former director’s arms once more. He scoffed, smirking confidently. “It doesn’t matter how many times you try—”
“High Heal!”
“Huh?” A surge of white light wrapped around the severed surface of Dalitz’s arm, its astonishing healing power causing the lost arm to regenerate instantly. “You healed me? What are you trying to—” Before he could finish speaking, his new arm began to grow, rapidly swelling to double, then triple its size. “Guh! Aaaaargh! What is this?!”
“Normally, healing magic aids in the regeneration of damaged cells. Typically, regeneration stops automatically once the healing process is complete,” Zenos explained, his right hand still raised. “But I suspect the cells implanted in you are a type of tumor cell. And the thing about tumors is that they regenerate quickly, without end.”
“Wh-What does that mean?!”
“In other words, if I boost your regeneration with my healing magic, the tumor cells will proliferate indefinitely.”
“What?!” Dalitz’s arm continued to enlarge. Unable to suppress its growth, he cut it off himself, but Zenos simply healed it anew. “No! Stop!”
“Pass. I’m a healer, remember? I see a wound, I heal it.”
“Y-You bastard!”
As Dalitz continued to hack at his rapidly regenerating limb, he began a furious barrage of blows. Every time one was about to connect, Zenos switched to protective magic and, as soon as there was an opening, he switched back and continued to heal his opponent.
Expansion, collision, impact, regrowth. The cacophony of sounds echoed repeatedly across the stage of the destroyed orphanage as glints of white light twinkled in the air.
“What’s happening?” Liz murmured, dropping to her knees as she stared blankly at the spectacle unfolding before her.
Wrapped in a warm white light, Dalitz roared. “Do not defy me! Do not look down on me!” he demanded, flailing his numerous arms around like a child throwing a tantrum. Controlling the rapidly proliferating arms had become difficult, however, and they tangled with each other, failing to coordinate an attack. “I was once in an orphanage! Oppressed!”
“What a coincidence,” Zenos said nonchalantly. “So was I.”
Dalitz’s regenerative ability was gradually weakening—perhaps the implanted cells hadn’t been perfect. The regeneration would stop eventually.
“I won’t let anyone oppress me ever again!” Dalitz shouted. “I’ll be the oppressor!”
“That’s too bad, Dalitz,” Zenos retorted, the corners of his eyebrows sagging slightly. “You of all people should’ve sympathized with the oppressed.”
The former director’s arms, having grown and been severed multiple times, looked feeble as withered branches. Now he was nothing but a frail, pale-faced man. Zenos stopped casting and, heaving, stepped toward Dalitz.
“S-Stay away from me,” the former director said, extending his right hand and stepping back. “I-I know! I’ll hire you! Y-You’ll be treated fairly! I am your king—”
“No, thanks,” the healer said simply, his right fist connecting with the center of Dalitz’s chest.
“Guh!”
“That was for using Liz.”
“Wait—” The next blow stopped Dalitz midsentence, making him choke miserably.
