Danmachi: Scavenger

... Mind Zero.

But how had he reached Mind Zero if Silverback's Roar wasn't a magic that used mind? The answer lay in his earlier actions. When he had unsheathed his War Shadow Dagger, he had activated his Blue Papilio Powder to heal himself. There had been no outward indication of him using this magic because he had activated it internally.

The powder could be released with any motion, and his heartbeat was a motion. He had been consciously releasing the Blue Papilio Powder from his heartbeat, the powder flowing directly into his bloodstream with each beat, healing him.

This was why he could now use his right arm—albeit barely. His nearly destroyed arm had almost fully healed, the second-degree burns on his back reduced to patches of first-degree burns, and his broken ribs were still in the process of mending.

But the excessive healing had come at a cost. Combined with his rather low mind reserves—further lowered by the effect of Silverback's Roar—his mind had reached zero before he could fully heal. He had completely fainted from Mind Zero and the overextension of Silverback's Roar...

But...

He refused.

His eyes regained focus, his pupils dilating so much that the red ring around them now looked like his new crimson pupil. With a surge of willpower, he grabbed the hilt of his magic sword and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a downward strike of the dragon's paw. 

Returning to his feet, he faced the dragon, which was now bleeding profusely from its mouth, the dagger laying on the ground behind it. The blood flowing from the side of its injured eye seemed to hinder its only working vision, giving Rex a sliver of an advantage.

The dragon roared, its remaining eye locking onto Rex with a mix of fury and pain, with Rex's grip tightening on the magic sword. It charged, its massive body shaking the ground with each step, its injured mouth stopping it from using any of its breath attacks for now. 

As the dragon closed in, Rex darted to its blind side, circling around its right flank. The dragon's head snapped toward him, but its movements were slower, more erratic, as blood continued to pour from its wounds. Rex feinted left, then lunged forward, aiming for the gap in the scales near the dragon's damaged right eye. The sword struck true, sinking into the flesh, but the dragon jerked its head back, the blade slipping free before it could reach the brain.

The infant dragon retaliated with a swipe of its tail, forcing Rex to leap back. He landed awkwardly, his legs almost giving out, but he kept himself standing. The infant dragon wasn't fearing any better, it once-mighty from faltering under the weight of its injuries. Blood dripped from its mouth and ruined the eye, pooling beneath its massive body.

Roaring loudly, the dragon lunged forward, and Rex quickly rolled to the side to evade the attack, its claws tearing into the ground where he had stood moments before. He rolled to his feet before jumping back to evade another attack from the dragon's claw. His feet touched the ground and he went for a counterattack—

*Badump*

Rex coughed out a mouthful of blood as the buff from Silverback's Roar ended due to the excess strain on his body, causing him to stumble forward. Taking the chance, the dragon cocked its head back, gathering all its strength before bringing its head down, its maw opening for a weak but still deadly stream of fire to erupt from its throat.

The flames spread wide, engulfing the area in a wave of heat, catching Rex in its flames, searing his skin and singeing his fur. He gritted his teeth, the pain nearly overwhelming him, but he refused to fall, his eyes locked on one single target—the infant dragon's large silhouette behind the inferno. 

Leaning forward and summoning the last of his strength, Rex dashed forward, forcing his body to move through the unbearable flames, busting through it like a demon. The dragon, seeing him emerge from the fire, roared in defiance, its fire breath stopping as it swung its massive paw at him. Rex leaned back to evade the attack, his movements sluggish but precise, and with a final, desperate surge of energy, he thrust the magic sword forward. 

The blade plunged into the dragon's already blinded right eye, sinking deep into the socket. The dragon let out a final, ear-splitting roar, its body thrashing wildly as it tried to dislodge him. Rex held on with both hands, his feet dragging along the ground as he drove the sword deeper, the blade grinding against bone and flesh until the beast's movements slowed, then stopped entirely.

The dragon's massive body collapsed to the ground with a thunderous crash, its remaining eye glazing over as life left it. Rex staggered back, his grip on the sword loosening as it slipped from his hand. He stood there for a moment, chest heaving, his body trembling from the strain, as his hair and tail stopped burning.

Then he bent backward and howled to the sky, "AWOOOOOOO!"

The howl lasted a few seconds until he fell onto his back, his chest rising and falling heavily, blood flowing from his nose and mouth. The fire that had spread through the room was now in its last embers, with only a few charred trees still standing. The fog had vanished a while ago, and the ground was burnt black across the entire room.

He breathed heavily, and after a few minutes, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Fuck," he mumbled, a single tear falling from his right eye. "That was the worst five minutes of my life."

He wasn't sure if that was how long the fight had actually lasted, but he hated it. Though he had stopped feeling the pain at some point during the fight, now that the adrenaline had faded, and he was looking back... it was awful.

In truth, however, it wasn't the fight itself that he hated—just the pain and damage it had caused his body. The act of fighting, though? Not so much. Fighting so desperately for his life had something primal in it. The adrenaline that flowed felt like a drug that touched both his human and Chienthrope sides.

He had 'enjoyed' it.

'But...' The pain still going through his body even now wasn't something he will get used to. 'I should get some pain releaser drug later.'

Sighing, he forced himself to his feet, his muscles throbbing all over. Reaching forward, he touched the dragon's head. "Scavenge," he uttered, and the dragon's body turned to dust, leaving behind a few items as multiple screens appeared in front of his eyes:

[+285(2.8) Strength, +261(2.6) Endurance, +220(2.2) Dexterity, +196(1.9) Agility, +282 Magic]

[Fire Body (Skill/Passive): Greatly increases fire/heat resistance and fire elemental magic damage, while reducing mind usage when using fire elemental magic.]

[Fire Breath (Magic/Active): Use mind and air in lungs to release a breath of fire. Strength, size, heat, and shape depend on mind usage and control. No chant.]

[Sharp Retractable Claw (Physical Property): Sharpens the nails on the hands and legs, turning them into sharp retractable claws. (Effective after a good night's sleep.)]

[Red Dragon Scales (Physical Property): Grants you dragon scales across your body. (Effective after a good night's sleep.)]

"Holy shit," he stared at the massive numbers and the four abilities he had gained. "Worth it. Definitely worth it!" he shouted, punching the air in triumph—an electrical pain suddenly shot through his body, causing his vision to blur. 

"Ugh!" He groaned as he leaned forward to hug his abdomen. His cheek puffed as he tried to push something down, but gave op and opened his mouth to barf out a mouthful of blood, spit and some of the Potato Puffs he had eaten earlier. This left his mouth with a sour, bloody taste that disgusted him. 

'I am surprised I didn't throw up during the fight.' He thought, leaning on his knee as he breathed. Just then...

He heard something from the room over. People were coming. Looking down at himself, he noticed how naked he was, with only his utility belt remaining and a few patches of his shirt left. He barely had any clothes left—most of them had been burned or destroyed by the dragon—with his utility belt holding on patches of his shorts.

Most of the hair on his head were gone, his eyebrows and lashes burned away, leaving nothing behind. Multiple parts of his skin were blistered with first- and second-degree burns, and claw marks littered his body, along with countless other injuries.

It was all painful, but he was just pushing that pain to the back of his mind, focusing on other thoughts. To escape. In this dungeon, you not only need to look out for monsters but other adventures as well. 

Most crimes that go on in the dungeon go undiscovered, and with how injured he was, the chance he would be killed and robbed is extremely high. He has to avoid monsters and adventures until he heals a bit. Too bad he couldn't go up to them and ask them for some potion...

'Did my bag survive?' he wondered, looking around. He had put his cloak in there, and he still had health potions and the dual potion stored inside.

When he was fighting the Silverback earlier, he had placed his bag on... He looked toward the direction and there it was, lying on top of a boulder. It had survived the fire due to its high location above the burning grass and not being next to a tree.

He quickly rushed—stumbled while trying his best to ignore the pain—to it, grabbed it, and brought it back to the drop items. Opening it, he threw the drop items—scales, fangs, claws, and hide—and his magic sword inside before stumbling to his War Shadow dagger on the ground, tossing it in as well. Then he rushed toward an exit of the room, away from the approaching adventurers.

Ironically, this was the same exit he had seen earlier from behind the small hill—the one he had wanted to escape from when the Infant Dragon had entered the room. Now, he was leaving through it after killing the infant dragon.

He exited the room, entering the passage, and quickly reaching into his bag to pull out his black cloak. He wore it, and it covered his entire body down to his knees. Using his strength, he tore holes on the sides for his arms to stick out. He then removed his utility belt from under the cloak and wore it above on his waist to keep it from opening.

He looked down at himself. His outfit now looked like a knee-length, sleeveless black dress with the belt cinching the cloak to his waist. '...This works,' he thought with a sigh. 'At least my boots are still intact.' He reached into his pouch to grab a healing potion, but...

Most of them had broken during the fight. 'That's what I get for buying non-Dian Cecht potions,' he thought bitterly. All of Dian Cecht's potions were made with strong bottles, but smaller Familias like the Aegle Familia, where he had gotten all his basic health potions, couldn't afford to make the bottles more durable.

Sighing, he reached into the bag to pull out the dual potion he had gotten from the Miach Familia. 'Good I left this in the bag.' If not, it would have broken like the rest of the potions.

Opening it, he warped his lips around the opened and tilted his head back, downing the entire bottle. A cold sensation rushed through his body as his mind felt slightly refreshed, and at the same time, some of his smaller injuries began to heal.

With a good amount of mind restored, he started releasing the Blue Papilio Powder from his heartbeat directly into his body, this time deciding to stop when he was close to mind zero. He reached into his bag, pulling out the two other health potions he had stored there due to lack of space in his pouch, and immediately downed all of them, throwing the empty bottles back into his bag and sighing in relief.

'I need to rest,' he thought as he entered the new room, the fog converging around him as he walked through it. "Po-ppi-po-ppi-po-ppo-ppi-pou. Po-ppi-po-ppi-po-ppo-ppi-popii, piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…" He started mumbling as he strained his senses for any sign of monsters. With how injured he is, any battle from now might be his last…

And he was immediately attacked by a wave of more than 15 Imps.

"Fuck..." he groaned, feeling like crying. Though he could now move, his body was not in any condition to fight all of them. Engaging them would definitely lead to more injuries, which might open the door for more monsters and increase the chance of him getting killed down here.

So he turned and ran.

Only to realize he couldn't run, so he turned to face the wave of imps and sighed.

"I'm cooked." 

If he was a protagonist, this would be around the time a group of cute women will come to save him, but he guessed he can't expect that. He pulled out his magic sword from his bag, dropping the bag to the ground and preparing to fight.

"Do you need help?" He suddenly heard a voice.

'???'