CHAPTER 11: Wounded

Liu Xian collapsed against the cave wall, letting out a breath that trembled at the edges. The rock behind him was cold and damp, but it felt like heaven. He closed his eyes for just a second.

And then something wet dripped onto his leg.

He flinched and looked down.

Blood.

"Koro?" he asked, voice low and uncertain.

The dog had slumped fully now, his chest rising and falling in uneven intervals. And that's when Liu Xian saw it—just behind his front left leg, near his shoulder, fur slicked dark with blood. The gash was deep, long, and ugly. Worse than anything Liu had noticed during the mad dash through the woods.

"You're bleeding," Liu said, eyes wide. He scrambled over. "Shit—Koro, you're bleeding bad."

Koro grunted. "Congratulations. You passed observation class."

"This isn't funny!"

"I wasn't trying to be."

Liu Xian dropped to his knees beside him, heart hammering. "Why didn't you say something?!"

"Because we were being chased, you idiot," Koro growled, but it was weaker than usual. No bite behind it. "And I wasn't gonna bleed out in front of you. That'd traumatize you or some shit."

Liu looked around the cave. There was nothing. No bandages. No herbs. Not even water. "What do I do? How do I fix this?"

"You don't," Koro muttered. "Just need to rest. That's all. Mana burn takes a toll."

"That's not just mana burn. You're wounded. That's like, like... hospital-wounded."

Koro didn't answer this time.

Liu felt panic start to bubble in his throat. He had never done anything like this before. The best he could do was slap a cheap band-aid on something and hope for the best. And this was far beyond that.

"Stay awake, alright?" he said, shaking Koro's shoulder gently. "You have to stay awake. You're the only one who knows what the hell's going on."

Koro let out a grunt that sounded more like a groan. "You're panicking."

"Yes, I'm panicking! I—"

"I said I'm fine, kid!" Koro snapped, a little louder than necessary. The sharpness in his voice made Liu Xian flinch. But it didn't take away from the fact that Koro was clearly suffering. He wasn't fine.

"Don't worry. I've had worse."

Liu Xian glared at him. "You literally told me two hours ago you were stuck in a dog's body against your will. I highly doubt this is your usual Tuesday."

That almost got a chuckle out of Koro. Almost.

Liu Xian tore off the bottom of his shirt and tried to wrap it around the wound the best he could. Koro winced but didn't protest.

They sat there in silence for a long while. The night outside the cave had settled into stillness again. But it wasn't peaceful. It felt like something was watching them. Waiting.

Koro finally broke the silence. "Xian."

"Yeah?"

"If something happens to me… if I pass out, or—"

"Don't," Liu Xian begged quickly. "Don't talk like that."

"Listen to me," Koro snapped, sharper now. "If I go down, you have to run. Keep heading north. You'll find the gates eventually. There's a marking—a sigil on stone. Press your hand on it. It'll open if you've got the spark."

"I don't have a spark, remember? I'm not one of you."

Koro huffed. "That's what the test was for. You passed it. That means it's there. Dormant or not."

Liu Xian swallowed hard. "I don't even know what I'm doing."

"You'll figure it out."

Liu Xian didn't respond. He just leaned back again and stared at the stars peeking through the trees above the cave entrance. His thoughts were racing—about magic, about monsters, about whatever life this was turning into. He felt like he was floating in someone else's story, like he was tripped into a dream where the rules no longer applied.

Koro's breathing started to even out. Not better—just quieter. Shallow.

Liu reached out and laid a hand on his paw.

"I'm not leaving you," he muttered. "You dragged me into this, dog. So you're gonna see it through."

Koro didn't respond.

Liu Xian didn't sleep that night.

He sat there in the dark, ears tuned to every sound, every whisper of wind, every snap of a twig beyond the mouth of the cave.

He thought maybe he would finally start to relax when the sky began to lighten. Maybe they had lost the thing. Maybe they had made it through the worst of it.

Until he saw it.

Just past the cave entrance—barely visible through the trees.