"Jared, move it!" Flaxseed's shout bounced between the trunks.
"Coming!" Jared answered. He turned from the swamp, stepped beneath the forest canopy, and felt the path ahead narrow into something far harsher than the bog they had just escaped.
They camped for several days, letting the Purifying Lotus' final motes weave through bone and marrow.
Jared's Wandering immortal Realm Level Seven settled like tempered steel.
Flaxseed's wounds knit shut, leaving only faint soars as souvenirs of the chase.
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