Having reached the narrow but steadily flowing stream, Liam finally allowed himself a proper drink of running water after first making sure there was nothing wrong with it.

He didn’t trust it immediately.

Kneeling near the bank, Liam first relied on his senses, sniffing the water carefully for any unusual Myst scent or hidden corruption. The stream carried a faint natural Myst signature like every living thing in Nalim, but nothing distorted, aggressive, or unnatural.

Still, he didn’t stop there.

Scooping up a small amount with his hand, he poured it over nearby plants and exposed soil along the bank. He watched quietly for a few moments, paying attention to any strange reaction.

Nothing happened; no discoloration, no decay, and no reaction from the surrounding Myst.

Only then did Liam finally lower himself slightly and drink.

The water was cold. And cleann far cleaner than anything he had expected to find so soon after leaving the swamp.

He drank slowly at first, then properly after realizing his body needed it far more than he had initially admitted to himself. The cool water eased the dryness in his throat and helped wash away the lingering taste of smoke and blood that had settled there after the earlier fight.

Once he had enough, Liam straightened and began walking along the edges of the stream.

His goal this time was simple...

Find better plants.

The previous treatment had only been something crude and temporary, made under pressure with whatever he could gather quickly while still trapped within the swamp. Now that he had more stable terrain and slightly more time, he intended to treat the wound properly.

As he moved along the bank, Liam tore off a massive broad leaf from one of the nearby plants and folded it slightly to serve as a makeshift holding cloth for whatever ingredients he collected.

Then he started searching carefully and methodically.

Some plants he identified immediately through Marcus’s memories. Others required closer inspection; leaf texture, smell, the amount of Myst present within them, and the moisture stored in their stems.

Within roughly ten minutes, he had gathered nearly everything he needed.

A few thick medicinal leaves, several bitter-smelling roots, and a small cluster of pale green stems that carried mild restorative properties.

But most importantly, he had managed to find several of the exact same plants Marcus had relied on in the past.

That alone improved his mood slightly.

Not because he enjoyed depending on old memories, but because it meant this treatment would be far more effective than the rushed one from before.

"These should be enough," Liam muttered quietly to himself as he glanced down at the large folded leaf now holding the gathered plants and roots.

He adjusted the makeshift sack slightly in his hand.

"Now all that’s missing is that."

His attention shifted back toward the stream.

Walking steadily toward the bank again, Liam lowered himself onto a flat section of stone near the water’s edge. The rock was cool beneath him, damp from the nearby stream, but stable enough to work on.

He placed the large leaf bundle down beside him and unfolded it carefully, revealing the ingredients within.

Then he reached toward the edge of the stream and grabbed a handful of thick wet moss growing between the stones near the water.

The moss was cold and heavy with moisture.

Just what he needed.

He added it to the rest of the ingredients before picking up a smooth, rounded stone from beside the stream.

Adjusting his seated position slightly to reduce pressure on his injured thigh, Liam began grinding everything together.

Slowly at first, then with more pressure.

Leaves crushed beneath the stone with wet cracking sounds while the roots split apart, releasing strong bitter scents into the air. The moss helped bind everything together, creating a thick green paste as the various ingredients mixed.

Liam continued grinding for several minutes.

He didn’t rush it, because the smoother the mixture, the easier it would settle into the wound properly.

Eventually, the ingredients mashed into a single thick paste, dark green with traces of pale sap running through it.

"That should be enough," Liam muttered.

He set the rounded stone aside and finally shifted his full attention back toward his thigh.

Without wasting time, Liam reached for the cloth wrapped around the wound and carefully undid the knot. The fabric peeled away slowly, revealing the injury beneath once more.

The sight made his eyes narrow slightly.

The earlier treatment had held the wound together well enough, but the cloth itself had become dirty from sweat, blood, and movement during the long trek out of the swamp.

And the wound itself still looked unpleasant.

The flesh around the puncture remained swollen and irritated, while traces of the earlier green treatment still clung stubbornly around the torn muscle.

Liam exhaled quietly.

Then he got to work.

Scooping up clean water from the stream with both hands, he carefully poured it over the injury. Cold water ran over the damaged flesh, washing away dried blood and dirt along with remnants of the old herbal mixture.

The moment the water touched deeper sections of the wound, a sharp sting shot through his thigh.

Liam’s jaw tightened slightly, but he continued.

Again.

And again.

Until the wound looked as clean as he could manage under the circumstances.

Only then did he begin removing what remained of the earlier treatment.

Using a smaller leaf and the edge of his fingers, Liam carefully scraped away the old paste lodged around the puncture. Some of it had hardened slightly against the flesh, forcing him to work slower to avoid reopening the injury further.

The process wasn’t pleasant.

Every movement sent small pulses of pain through the damaged muscle.

Still, Liam remained calm throughout it.

Eventually, the old treatment was fully removed.

Fresh blood began seeping lightly from deeper within the puncture again now that the clotting layer had been disturbed.

Liam immediately reached for the newly prepared mixture.

Scooping up a portion of the thick green paste with his fingers, he pressed it carefully into the wound.

The reaction was immediate.

A sharp burning sensation spread through the injury, stronger than before due to the fresher ingredients. The paste settled deeper into the puncture, filling the torn sections more properly than the rushed treatment from earlier ever could.

Liam continued packing the mixture in until the wound was fully covered.

Then he sat back slightly, allowing the treatment a few moments to settle.

The bleeding had already begun slowing again.

Satisfied enough for now, Liam reached for the sleeve of his remaining intact arm and tore another strip of cloth from his training attire in one clean motion.

The previous bandage was dirty.

And right now, limiting the risk of infection mattered more than preserving his uniform.

He wrapped the fresh cloth tightly around his thigh, securing the treatment firmly in place. The pressure helped stabilize the muscle again without restricting movement entirely.

Once the knot was tied off, Liam rested his forearms briefly against his knees and exhaled slowly.

The pain remained.

But now, at the very least, the wound finally felt properly treated.