liquid flesh

I chuckled at that.

“It would make a lot of things more convenient, though,” I answered. “I’ll make do with what I can get either way, though. Speaking of which, how are those buffs doing?”

“They’re weird, as expected from you,” Adam said, taking out his sword and absently stabbing it through his own hand. His flesh rippled as if it were, well, liquid and barely bled, holding tight to the blade. As he slowly lifted his blade, he cut a jagged wound between his middle and index finger, spreading the two digits far apart as his flesh bent and flapped. Even so, the wound didn’t bleed so much as well with quickly solidifying fluid that created a connective web between the two sides of the wound and literally pulled it back together, at which point it sealed quickly closed. “It doesn’t even really hurt, it just feels like there’s something wrong with my hand. And the others…well, they’re freaky, too, but a bit less so.”

I nodded at that and chuckled.

Unsurprisingly, the buffs I’d gained at the end of the White Whale incident had leveled up to create even stronger buffs. Liquid Flesh didn’t allow one to liquefy at will—sadly—but injuries inflicted upon someone enhanced with it would almost flow together and close do to the enhanced regeneration it allowed. In fact, so long as limbs weren’t completely detached, or were reattached quickly, it could even allow the ends to simply stick back together as if never cut. Featherweight grew of its predecessor’s ability to soften impacts and falls by making the user…not quite weightless, but able to stand on string and have it support your weight, while just as easily standing up to attacks. With Scorch, attacks that inflicted damage could leave behind traces of Aura within the wound that could ignite a moment later, inflicting secondary damage based on the size of the injury.