Two days had passed since the fight with Lyralei. The world knew now that the Demon King had been stripped to mortal flesh.
Arthur awoke to pain. Real pain. Every bruise, burn and pulled muscle screamed at him. He had not felt this raw since before the System chose him.
The palace medical wing smelled of herbs and sweat. Sunlight cut through high windows and spilled across stone floor. In the corner, Lisa Park's alchemical rig hummed. Thin rods of crystal recorded every flicker of his dwindling energy reserves.
From the next room came the furious scratch of a quill. Beatrice had not left her desk since the duel, working without sleep to reverse the disruption she had helped cause.
Arthur tried to push himself upright. A soft voice stopped him.
"Easy, my king."
Kaela, the half-elf healer, checked his pulse with professional precision. Silver hair brushed his arm as she leaned over him. Her touch was gentle. Her eyes betrayed curiosity. And hunger.
