Healing factor

The slab of rock—which seemed, impossibly, to have ignited beneath the demon’s flaming claws—slammed Death to the unyielding floor. Several of his attackers were pulped or incinerated, and it was only the Horseman’s greater resilience and swift reflexes that partially saved him. He lay pinned, his left side in flaring agony, fire licking at his arm, his shoulder, his neck...
The remaining Phantom Guards clustered around him, striking with their brutal axes, and though the stone itself limited their angle of attack, it also prevented Death from dodging or rolling aside. Steel cut through flesh, severed muscles, cracked bones. Nothing he couldn’t recover from, and swiftly, but only if he had the time.