Chương 50: Power is pain

Ethan sat up slowly, he paused there for a moment, letting the quiet settle over him. He felt calm, which surprised him more than anything else. Deep down, Ethan had always known it would come to this point again. Conflict. Power struggles. People choosing ambition over survival. The difference now was that he wasn't walking into it blind, and more importantly, he wasn't powerless. It also helped that things had already changed.

In his previous life, Armon had been present in the war, and the fight had spiraled far beyond what it should have. By the end of it, the Broken Dawns' guildmaster had died, and that single loss had shifted the balance of power moving forward. Now, Armon was gone, removed from the equation entirely. That alone was enough to change the outcome, though how much was still uncertain. Ethan let out a quiet breath. There were still unknowns.

The faction behind the necromancer weighed heavily on his mind, more than he cared to admit. It wasn't something he could ignore, but it also wasn't something he could act on yet. So instead, he focused on what was in front of him. This war. If it was going to happen, then he would make sure it ended quickly, and with as few deaths as possible. That was something he could influence. That was something he could control. And for that, he would use his oath.

Ethan swung his legs off the bed, the floor cool beneath his feet. The room was still dim, his eyes adjusting slowly. Across from him, Leah slept soundly, soft snores rising and falling in a quiet rhythm. He watched her for a second before looking away. Last time, he had made an oath without thinking it through. It had worked, but that didn't mean it had been the right way to use it. He still didn't know what would happen if he failed one, and he had no intention of finding out. This time, he was careful.

This time, he only spoke when he was certain. Ethan straightened slightly, his voice low but firm. Each word thought out carefully.

"I will stop the war, no matter what. This is my oath." The moment he invoked the skill, the familiar pressure settled over him. Something vast and unseen pressing down as if acknowledging his words. He felt it connect to him, not just his body but deeper than that, binding itself to his soul. Energy drained from him as the skill accepted his oath, and in return, power surged through his body. Ethan let out a slow breath and stood, stretching his arms as he worked the feeling through his muscles.

He didn't have much time. Alex had given him a day. Which meant he needed to finish preparing now. Thankfully, there was only one thing left. Ethan stepped out of the room and made his way through the halls, heading straight for the armory. When he pushed the door open, the familiar clutter greeted him, along with Donovan, who seemed to exist permanently within those walls. The man glanced up briefly.

"Something wrong with the armor?"

"Nothing like that," Ethan replied.

"I've come for the poison you so generously let me store here. And good morning to you as well." Donovan snorted.

"Just as well. Why anyone would need that much poison, I don't know. It's starting to take up far too much room down here." Ethan let out a small chuckle. From the way Donovan said it, you'd think he had filled the entire workshop, though from what Ethan remembered, it wasn't nearly that dramatic.

"Well, you don't need to worry about it anymore," Ethan said.

"I'll be taking it off your hands." Donovan nodded and pushed himself to his feet, heading toward the side of his workspace.

"Good. Saves me the trouble of tripping over it." While he moved, he glanced back.

"So how's the armor holding up? Everything working out?"

"It's perfect," Ethan answered without hesitation.

"Should last me a long time."

"Good. I'm still darn proud of that one," Donovan said, while returning with a large bag and handing it over.

"Everything you've stored is in here."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Donovan said.

"Just make sure you come to me if you find anything else worth working with." Ethan nodded easily. Donovan might not have been the best smith in existence, but he was reliable, and more importantly, easy to work with. Though he could hardly remember the man from his previous timeline.

"No problem," Ethan said.

"I'll keep that in mind." He slung the bag over his shoulder and turned to leave.

"You're not planning to poison anyone, are you?" Donovan called after him. Ethan didn't break stride.

"Nah. Just myself." The door shut behind him. He made his way back through the halls and toward his room. By the time he stepped inside, Leah was already awake, sitting on the bed and adjusting the pin in her hair.

"There you are," she said.

"Someone dropped a couple things off for you. I put them on your bed."

"Morning," Ethan replied as he moved over. The items were exactly what he expected. The venom from the snake, properly stored, along with a small pile of coins. Ethan picked them up, then glanced at Leah.

"I swear they said I'd get ten copper. Why is there only seven?" Leah didn't even hesitate.

"Tax."

"Tax for what?"

"They woke me up." Ethan resisted the urge to facepalm. In truth, he didn't mind. After selling the colossus tusk, he still had more than enough coin for now. Money would matter more on the second level, when time wasn't as tight and higher-level crafters became available. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Fair enough," he said.

"You need any more?" Leah gave him a strange look.

"I thought you were a money hoarder." Ethan shrugged slightly.

"Times change, I guess."

"I'm good," she said, while squinting at him.

"I'll let you know if I do."

"No problem." Ethan turned, gathering the poison into his bag.

"I'm heading to Mark's. Time to get my body cultivation started." Leah was already on her feet.

"Are you going to be alright? From what you've told me, it sounds dangerous. Should I come?" Ethan shook his head.

"No. You should keep working on your core. If you can awaken it before level twenty, you'll have far better class options." She hesitated.

"You sure?"

"I'll be fine." —~~— Ethan was not fine. Not even close. His skin felt like it was being eaten alive. Like he had been dropped into a tub of piranhas that tore into him without pause, shredding flesh, multiplying, and then burrowing deeper, feeding from the inside out. Every inch of him screamed, nerves firing in a constant, unrelenting assault that made it hard to think, hard to breathe, hard to do anything except endure. The liquid around him didn't help. The brew was thick, acrid, and violently potent.

The fumes alone made his eyes water, his throat tighten, his lungs protest with every breath he dragged in. It clung to his skin, seeped into every cut and pore, working its way deeper with each passing second. Sarah knelt beside the tub, her face pale as she watched him. Worry was written all over her, mixed with something else she clearly couldn't hide—revulsion. They had talked about this beforehand, during one of their dinners.

So they had gone over exactly what he needed and what she would have to do, and she had agreed without hesitation. But now that she was seeing it in front of her… Well, Ethan could tell she wished she was anywhere else. He didn't blame her. But he did need her. She wasn't the highest leveled healer, but she had grown stronger. Healers were always in high demand, and it was evident she had been putting in the work. But the main reason Ethan wanted to use her instead of a guild healer, was because he trusted her.

That mattered more than anything else right now. He had thought about asking Nivia but at the end of the day, she wasn't an actual healer. Her skills were too mixed, whereas Sarah was focused. All her skills had to do with healing. Ethan dragged in a shaky breath, his hands gripping the edges of the tub hard enough that his knuckles whitened. The pain was escalating, building steadily as the poison did its work, breaking him down so something stronger could take its place.

"Alright," Ethan forced out, his voice strained, barely holding together.

"I'm going under." Sarah's head snapped up slightly, her hands tightening at her sides, but she didn't speak. Ethan didn't wait for a response. He sucked in one final breath, clenched his jaw, and then forced himself backward. The liquid swallowed him whole. For a split second, everything went quiet. Then the pain doubled. It hit him all at once, flooding over him as the brew reached his face, his scalp, his eyes.

Every exposed surface ignited, the sensation no longer contained to his skin but pushing inward, invading deeper, like it was trying to tear him apart from within. His body reacted violently. Instinct screamed at him to get out, to breathe, to escape. Time stretched, each second dragging out longer than the last. His lungs began to burn, chest tightening as the need for air grew more desperate, but even that barely compared to the agony ripping through him.

Somewhere beneath the chaos, beneath the overwhelming sensory overload, something was changing. The poison wasn't just destroying him—it was rebuilding him, forcing his body to adapt, to harden, to survive something it never should have been able to endure. Finally, when his lungs threatened to give out entirely, Ethan surged upward, breaking the surface with a ragged gasp. Air rushed into him, sharp and painful as it filled his chest, his body trembling uncontrollably as he gripped the edge of the tub again.

Sarah moved instantly, her mana entering him as she activated a skill.

"Stay with me," she said, her voice tight. Ethan let out a shaky laugh that came out more like a choke.

"I'm not going anywhere." The only reason Ethan was still conscious was because of the item he had burned nearly all his points on. A heal-over-time potion worked steadily through his system, knitting him back together just enough to keep him from passing out from the poison overload. It had cost him almost everything. Two hundred and fifty-eight points reduced to forty in a single purchase. It was a life saver, and something that was allowing him to endure for far longer than normal. Well, that and Sarah.

But neither her nor the potion could remove the poison itself. That wasn't the goal. The poison needed to stay. It needed to spread, to force his body into overcoming it. All they could do was keep him stable. Ethan's arm rested over the side of the tub, a crude line driven into a vein just below the elbow. A small container hung from a makeshift frame beside him, filled with venom from the snake. From it, a thin tube fed directly into his bloodstream, dripping at a slow, constant rate.

The external burn from the bath was constant, clawing at his skin, but the real damage came from within. The venom spread through his veins like fire, branching out, invading muscle and tissue. Ethan's fingers twitched against the edge of the tub, his breathing uneven as another wave hit him.

"You need to slow this down," Sarah said, her voice tight, eyes flicking toward the container feeding into him. Ethan shook his head weakly.

"I can't." He thought of all the people who had died in his previous timeline, of how many people never made it to level two because of the stupid guilds playing stupid games. He had been too weak then, with no chance in stopping anything. But that would change. He would make a difference. He wouldn't allow senseless deaths. Not this time. So he would endure, he would let the pain consume him, all in the name of power. All for the hope of making a difference.

He dragged in a breath that barely held together as another surge rolled through him. His muscles tightened involuntarily, back arching slightly as the venom spread deeper, finding new paths, new weaknesses to exploit. Ethan forced himself under again. The liquid swallowed him whole, flooding over his face as he opened his mouth, letting the poison pour in directly. It burned its way down his throat, into his chest, into his stomach, adding another layer to the assault already happening inside him.

His body rejected it instantly, convulsing as instinct screamed at him to get out, to breathe. When he finally broke the surface, he coughed violently, liquid spilling from his mouth as he dragged in air, his chest heaving. The drip never stopped. Even as he gasped, even as his body fought to recover, more venom continued to feed into him, the line ensuring there was no pause, no reprieve. Time blurred. The potion ticked steadily. Sarah's healing pulsed again and again. The poison continued its relentless spread.

There was no break in it. No moment to recover. Only endurance. And Ethan, sitting in a tub of poison, withdrawing into his mind, reminding himself why he was doing this. Forcing himself to continue, even when he so desperately wanted to quit and take the antidote. Ethan's hands began to shake uncontrollably, his grip slipping slightly against the edge of the tub. His breathing turned ragged, uneven, his body struggling to keep pace with what he was forcing it through.

His vision dimmed at the edges, the room tilting slightly as his thoughts slowed. He could still feel Sarah's hands, still feel the healing trying to hold him together, but it was getting harder to focus on anything beyond the strain. His stomach twisted violently. Ethan lurched forward, barely managing to turn as he vomited, his entire body convulsing as it tried to reject what it could no longer handle.

The motion pulled at the line in his arm, sending a fresh spike of pain through him as everything tightened at once. His strength gave out slightly as he sagged forward, his body trembling under the strain. The poison had likely entered all his vital organs. His body was shutting down. Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision. Sound dulled, like he was sinking beneath water, the world slipping further and further away from him. He could hear a voice—muffled, distant—but he couldn't make out the words.

Then something grabbed him under the arms, pulling him up and out of the liquid just as his strength finally gave out. His body had hit its limit. Now it was up to Sarah. Ethan's limbs jerked violently as he began to convulse, every muscle tightening and releasing in erratic bursts. He felt hands on his face, forcing his jaw open. Liquid poured down his throat, and his body reacted instantly. He tried to fight it. Tried to turn his head, to push it away, to stop anything else from entering him.

He couldn't take any more.

"Please…" his voice cracked, barely audible.

"Please, no more."