Allen carried Shellia in his arms with unwavering steadiness, his crimson-lined cloak brushing lightly against her legs as he ascended the grand staircase of the palace. Though she was conscious, her strength had not yet fully returned. The purification and barrier reinforcement she unleashed earlier had drained both her mana and physical stamina far more than she realized.
Her cheek rested against Allen's chest, and she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—calm, powerful, grounding. He held her as if she weighed no more than a flower petal.
"Just a little longer," Allen murmured, his voice gentle yet threaded with concern. "You'll rest soon."
The corridor leading to Shellia's chamber glowed with soft golden light. The barrier she created shimmered faintly across the ceiling—silent proof of her power. Even Allen, who rarely expressed shock, had been stunned by its strength.
