Luca woke up abruptly. He clearly remembered his defeat at the hands of the High God. The ten holes in his back weren't fatal—none had pierced his heart. But once he lost consciousness, the god could have killed him instantly. Yet not only was he alive, but his wounds had completely healed.
"Are you awake?"
Luca froze. He found himself inside an old hut, and the very High God who had nearly killed him was now calmly offering him medicine.
The god's appearance had returned to normal—silver hair like moonlight and dark brown eyes. He even wore a gentle smile that made Luca uneasy. "Drink this. I hunted a phantom deer spirit and extracted its bone marrow. It will heal your throat."
Luca instinctively touched his neck—only then realizing he couldn't speak. The god's earlier grip had crushed his vocal cords.
What a terrifying strength.
