Swish.

  The crimson projectile sliced through the air with a sharp whistle, missing my intended target by a good few meters and embedding itself deep into a tree trunk. I watched as it quivered for a moment before settling, far from the wooden log I'd aimed for.

  "Goddamn it," I muttered, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "My aim is absolute shit."

  From her perch on the edge of the bed, Luna let out an amused meow. Her green eyes sparkled mischievously, clearly mocking my failed attempt.

  "Oh, don't you start," I shot back, pointing a finger at her. "I don't see you out here throwing spears around, you little furball."

  She flicked her tail nonchalantly and began grooming her paw, utterly ignoring me. The picture of feline indifference.

  "What did I expect…" I grumbled.

  Shaking my head, I trudged across the clearing toward the unfortunate tree that had taken the brunt of my wayward skill. Each step crunched on the fallen leaves, the crisp air biting at my skin. As I approached, the sight of the blood-red lance protruding halfway into the thick trunk was both impressive and unnerving. Whatever this skill lacked in precision, it more than made up for in raw, destructive power.

  "Damn," I whispered, crouching to inspect the impact site. “That thing’s got some bite.”

  “Good to know it has firepower though I have yet to check the cost of making these spears”

  “And Let’s see the spears…”

  Curiosity getting the better of me, I reached out toward the projectile. My fingers hovered just above its surface, feeling the faint hum of energy radiating from the blood construct. It was warm, almost pulsing.

  "Alright," I murmured, closing my eyes to focus.

  I reached inward, channeling my essence, trying to reconnect with the blood spear. It wasn't as smooth as summoning it in the first place. This felt distant, like grasping at a rope that kept slipping through my fingers. I gritted my teeth, pushing harder, my temples throbbing with the effort.

  "Okay, deep breaths and connect to it".

  Fuuuu….

  Finally, a faint tug—a connection. I exhaled sharply. "There we go."

  I visualized the lance pulling free from the tree. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, with a jarring lurch, it shifted, dragging itself back an inch.

  "Yes," I hissed, sweat trickling down my brow.

  But the resistance was immense, like trying to lift something far heavier than it should have been. My muscles tensed, though I wasn't physically pulling it. The strain was all in my head, but it felt damn real. My grip on the connection wavered, the tether fraying.

  "No..no…no," pouring every ounce of willpower into one final pull.

  With a groaning crack, the lance wrenched itself free and clattered to the ground, kicking up a spray of dirt and leaves.

  "Ha... haaa...Fuck" I panted, legs trembling as I leaned heavily against the tree for support. A sharp ache pulsed behind my eyes, and I rubbed my temples in a vain attempt to soothe the pain.

  "Okay…that hurts… Almost similar pain to when I first channeled Exira" I muttered.

  Crouching, I examined the lance more closely. The vibrant red hue it had initially was gone, replaced by a dark, almost black sheen. Its surface shimmered faintly, and when I touched it, a jolt of cold shot up my fingers.

  "Holy!" I yanked my hand back. "That's freezing….fuuu"

  It felt more like frozen metal than anything born from blood. Its state unnervingly rigid.. I pressed down on it, gradually increasing the pressure as I tried my best to bend it.

  “Okay If I bend it with a lot strength it will snap in two”

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  “Even then It is crazy strong”

  "Huh," I mused, standing up and dusting off my hands. "So it stays solid even after I lose connection. That's... actually pretty useful."

  I tapped the lance thoughtfully against my palm. Ideas began to churn in my mind. "Maybe I could make weapons in advance. Spears, spikes, hell, even barricades if I had enough blood to spare."

  My gaze drifted to the skull staff resting nearby. It pulsed faintly, the stored blood essence within calling out like a beacon.

  “Good thing I’ve got this bastard around. If I didn’t, I’d be draining myself dry just trying to test this shit.”

  Satisfied, I stored the blood lance in my spatial ring for later study. Turning back to the tree, the damage was evident. The bark was pierced clean through, the wood beneath splintered in a disturbingly precise line. A jagged hole marked where the lance had been, a testament to its lethal potential.

  "Not bad at all," I nodded, running my fingers along the splintered edges. “Clean strike. Good penetration. This thing’s got potential.”

  “What I wanna know is how much flexible is the skill”

  “Can I change the shape, size of the projectiles, Can I make them spin”

  I began the walk back to my makeshift camp, the cool breeze doing little to soothe the lingering headache. As I approached, an impatient meow reached my ears.

  "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," I called out, a grin spreading across my face despite the exhaustion.

  She nuzzled against my hand, purring loudly. The warmth of her tiny body against my fingers was oddly comforting.

  "Alright, alright," I laughed softly, scooping her up. "You're impossible to stay mad at."

  I carried her back to the bed, setting her down gently before collapsing beside her. She immediately crawled onto my chest, kneading my shirt with her paws.

  She purred louder, green eyes narrowing contentedly as she nestled into the crook of my arm.

  I stared up at the canopy, leaves rustling softly above. The tension eased from my body, muscles relaxing for the first time in what felt like days. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, I could afford to breathe.

  Later, I found myself leaning against the same log, Luna now lazily batting at a piece of jerky I'd given her. Her playful antics drew a small smile from me.

  "Here, chew on that while I try to make sense of this mess," I said, ruffling her fur.

  She meowed in acknowledgment, eyes flicking up to meet mine before returning to her snack.

  Pulling out my battered diary, I flipped to the last page. The worn pages were filled with scribbles, sketches, and half-formed thoughts. Grabbing the stub of a charcoal pencil, I began jotting down notes.

  "Alright, let's see what we've got," I muttered, tapping the pencil against the page. "Skill Name: Sanguis Telum or Blood projectile."

  I underlined it twice for emphasis.

  "Fuel Source: Blood."

  I paused, considering. "Default Size: One meter in length, five centimeters in diameter."

  I frowned. "What does that even mean in terms of blood volume?"

  Staring blankly at the numbers, a sense of dread crept in. "Ugh…Don't tell me I have to do math."

  Luna glanced up, letting out an amused chirp.

  "Yeah, laugh it up," I shot her a mock glare. "You don't have to deal with this crap."

  She swatted at my pencil, tail flicking smugly.

  "Alright, focus," I told myself. "The lance is basically a cylinder. Volume of a cylinder is... uh... pi times radius squared times height. Right."

  I scribbled down the formula, plugging in the numbers as best I could.

  "Radius is 2.5 centimeters, height is 100 centimeters," I calculated. "So... 3.14 times 2.5 squared times 100."

  After a moment of furious scribbling, I arrived at a figure. "1,963 cubic centimeters. Roughly."

  Luna paused her chewing to look at me, head tilted.

  "Yes, I know it's a lot," I said, waving her off.

  "Now, considering the density of blood is about one gram per cubic centimeter..." I trailed off. "That means each lance uses about 1,963 grams of blood. Nearly two liters."

  I stared at the number, a cold knot forming in my stomach. "Two liters per lance? Holy shit."

  No wonder I felt drained after just a few attempts. I reached for the skull staff, feeling the residual energy within. It was noticeably diminished.

  "Half empty," I muttered. "That damn deer must've given me four, maybe five liters tops. I've burned through half of it already."

  Luna climbed onto my lap, pressing her tiny paws against my chest.

  "Yeah, it's a problem," I told her, scratching under her chin. "At this rate, I'll run dry in no time."

  “Note to self never use myself as fuel source for the skill”

  She nuzzled against me, purring softly.

  "Thanks for the sympathy," I sighed.

  I thought back to the shaman I'd faced. His lances had been massive—five, maybe eight meters long. The amount of blood required for those must have been staggering.

  "No wonder he stopped throwing them after a while," I realized. "He couldn't afford to waste that much blood."

  Luna pawed at my hand, drawing me back to the present.

  "You're a good distraction," I admitted, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Too bad I can't just throw you at enemies."

  She responded by nipping playfully at my finger.

  "Alright, alright," I laughed. "Point taken."

  Closing the diary, I set it aside. My head was starting to ache from all the calculations and realizations. The skill was powerful, but the cost was steep. I'd need to find a way to make it more efficient or risk running out of resources when I needed them most.

  Wait how do I remember fucking maths but not more about myself…

  What kind of logic is even that

  But that was a problem for another day.

  I leaned back, letting the sounds of the forest wash over me. Luna curled up on my chest, her steady purring lulling me into a sense of calm.

  "Maybe we can stockpile the lances," I mused aloud. "Create a cache for emergencies."

  “But then I would lose the ability to control them and would have to throw them manually”

  She yawned, completely uninterested.

  "Or maybe I just need to find bigger blood sources," I added wryly.

  Her tail flicked, brushing against my arm.

  "Yeah, you're right," I conceded. "No point in overthinking it now."

  HOUSE OF END DISCORD

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