Infinite Damage Absorption: I Pay The Price In Pain

Silas trudged back to the tavern, each step feeling like a personal betrayal to his desire for a quiet, pain-free life. The woman was still there, her face lighting up as she saw him approach.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Silas muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, lady. You've got my attention. But I'm not promising anything, got it?"

The woman nodded eagerly, her earlier desperation replaced by barely contained excitement. "Thank you! Oh, thank you! I'm Emma, by the way. Emma Shadowblade."

"Of course you are," Silas sighed. "Because everyone in this world has to have some ridiculous, over-the-top name. Let me guess, you're some kind of warrior princess or secret guild leader?"

Emma's excitement dimmed slightly. "Um, actually... I'm an assassin."

Silas blinked. "An assassin! What do you mean you're an assassin!? Actually, you know what? Forget I asked."

They found a quiet corner of the tavern, and Emma began explaining the situation. 

As she spoke, Silas felt his hopes for a simple rescue mission crumbling faster than a rubber duck in one of those hydraulic press videos - the ones with the Slavick narrator, because those were the best ones.

"So, this dark wizard, Malachar the Vile, kidnapped my sister because of some ancient bloodline purity she possesses," Emma said, her voice low. "He wants to use her to extend his lifespan and advance his dark magic."

"Of course he does," Silas muttered, taking a long drink from his ale. "Because why would an evil wizard ever do something normal."

Emma continued, seemingly oblivious to Silas's sarcasm. "Malachar's lair is in the Blighted Peaks, about three days' journey from here. It's a treacherous path, filled with all sorts of dangers."

"Wonderful," Silas groaned. "And I don't suppose this Malachar guy is some pushover wizard who can barely cast a spark-spell to light a candle, is he?"

Emma's expression turned grave. "I'm afraid not. He's incredibly powerful. They say he can control the undead, summoning hordes of skeletons and zombies to do his bidding."

Silas closed his eyes, mentally tallying up the potential injuries. Broken bones from skeleton warriors, flesh wounds from zombies, potential magical burns or worse from the wizard himself. 

Each imagined injury sent a phantom pain through his body, a grim preview of what was to come.

"Awesome," Silas muttered. "So we're up against a necromancer with an army of the undead. Any other surprises I should know about? Maybe he's got a pet dragon or a demon butler?"

Emma shifted uncomfortably. "Well, there are rumours about a shadow beast he keeps as a guardian..."

"Yep, yep, sounds about right," Silas groaned. "Because why not, right?"

As Emma continued to detail their upcoming journey and the dangers they'd face, Silas found himself growing more and more uneasy. 

Every new piece of information was another weight added to the already crushing burden of pain he knew he'd have to endure.

"So, let me get this straight," Silas said, interrupting Emma's description of the toxic swamps they'd have to cross. "We're going to trek through monster-infested wilderness, navigate deadly terrain, and then storm a fortress guarded by the undead and shadow beasts, all to face off against an incredibly powerful dark wizard?"

Emma nodded, her eyes shining with determination. "That's right! Isn't it exciting?"

Silas stared at her for a long moment. "You know, most people would run screaming from something like this. But here you are, acting like we're going on a fun camping trip."

Emma looked confused as she reflected on Silas's words. "I know it sounds dangerous, but my sister's life is at stake. I'd do anything to save her. These dangers don't frighten me."

Silas sighed, feeling a headache building behind his eyes. "I get it. Family, duty, all that heroic stuff. Sounds good. You're a good sister. Just... give me a minute to process this, okay?"

As Emma fell silent, Silas closed his eyes again, trying to imagine the pain that awaited him.

Every injury, every blow, every magical attack - all of it would come back to haunt him tenfold. The thought made him want to curl up in a corner and never leave.

But then, that goddamn annoying voice at the back of his goddamn head spoke again, he thought of the kind apothecary, of her lifeless eyes staring at the sky. "Is this PTSD?"

He thought of all the people who might suffer a similar fate if this Malachar the Vile wasn't stopped.

"Goddamnit," Silas muttered. 

He opened his eyes to find Emma watching him expectantly. "Alright, fine. I'll help you rescue your sister. But I want it on record that I think this is a terrible idea and I'm only doing it because apparently, I've developed some kind of heroic death wish."

Emma's face lit up with joy. "Oh, thank you, Silas! You won't regret this, I promise!"

"Pretty sure I already do," Silas grumbled. "So, when do we leave on this suicide mission?"

"First light tomorrow," Emma said, her voice filled with determination. "We should reach the outskirts of Malachar's domain in three days if we push hard."

Silas nodded, already dreading the journey ahead. "Right. Well, I'm going to go back to my room and enjoy what might be my last night of relatively pain-free existence. See you in the morning."

As he trudged up the stairs to his rented room, Silas couldn't help but wonder what he'd gotten himself into. The adventure ahead promised pain, danger, and probably a whole lot of complaining on his part.

"I swear, if I survive this, I'm becoming a hermit," he muttered as he flopped onto his bed. "You can't get guilted into horrifying rescue missions if you're a loser who lives in the woods. No more heroes, no more quests, just me and a nice, quiet cave somewhere far away from all this madness."

With that less-than-comforting thought, Silas drifted off into an uneasy sleep, his dreams filled with skeletons, dark wizards, and an endless sea of pain waiting to engulf him.