The monk was breathing hard. The only thing keeping him half-standing was the knife through his shoulder. Each little move and breath shifted his body around the knife, sending new jagged edges of agony right through him. He couldn't even hear the moaning right now. All he could hear was the the thundering in his head.

Takasugi prodded him with a taloned foot. Sanzo barely even noticed the touch. The limb changed, becoming insect-like before withdrawing.

Sanzo reached up with the other hand. Weakly, the monk tried to pull the knife out. It felt like he was trying to pull a tree from the ground. The blade didn't budge. His limbs felt heavy, even as he tried again. The result wasn't any different.