Liana hadn't taken a single step since they left.
The world moved around her—wind stirring the grass, shadows crawling across the ground—but she stood frozen, as if breaking her vigil would shatter the fragile thread of hope she clung to.
Her fingers were cold, knuckles white from clutching the hem of her dress.
Her lips moved soundlessly, whispering the same plea to whatever gods still listened.
Bring him back.
Please… just bring him back.
Each passing moment gnawed at her, every heartbeat feeling like another nail sealing a coffin she refused to see.
Liana had not moved an inch since they left.
She stood rooted to the same spot, hands clasped tightly, whispering prayers under her breath—prayers for a miracle, for Kael to return.
The sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence.
She looked up.
Knights rushed toward the fortress, their armor clinking, the massive metallic gates groaning open to let them through. Behind them, more figures emerged from the shadows of the forest path.
At their head was Gareth.
In his arms… something.
The darkness made it hard to see, but her heart lurched.
She ran.
The closer she got, the clearer it became—blood, torn fabric, pale skin.
It was Kael.
Unconscious.
Wounded.
Her breath caught, and a trembling whisper escaped her lips.
"…Oh…"
Her vision blurred. Tears stung her eyes.
"Kael! What happened? Are you okay?!" she cried, voice cracking as she reached for him, her hands trembling over his bloodied form.
But he didn't answer.
Couldn't answer.
Gareth's gaze met Liana's, his voice clipped and urgent.
"He's badly hurt. We need to get him to the infirmary—now."
Without waiting for a response, he tightened his grip on Kael and broke into a run.
The other knights slowed, some halting completely, their faces grim. They exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing—only watching as Gareth disappeared down the corridor.
Liana stood frozen for a heartbeat, her mind ringing with the weight in Gareth's tone. There was no reassurance in it, no promise that Kael would be fine—only a raw urgency that gnawed at her chest.
Her breath hitched. No… please…
She shook her head hard, forcing her legs to move. Then she was running, boots pounding against the stone floor, chasing after Gareth with every ounce of strength she had—her lips moving in a silent prayer for Kael's life.Gareth burst through the infirmary doors, his voice sharp and urgent.
"Get a healer—now! He needs immediate attention!"
The staff froze for a moment, then scrambled into motion after catching sight of Kael's limp body and the steel in Gareth's tone.
From the far side of the room, the same healer who had once examined Kael before his reincarnation came rushing forward. His eyes widened at the sight, but he wasted no time. Kael was laid carefully on a bed, and the healer placed a hand on his forehead, channeling mana into his body.
A deep frown formed on his face. Without a word, he pulled out a small vial filled with a light-gold liquid—a high-grade potion, its glow almost holy. He uncorked it and tilted Kael's head back, pouring the potion into his mouth before resuming the steady flow of mana.
Minutes passed. Still… no sign of recovery.
Liana stood rooted to the spot, her vision blurring as tears welled up. Her hands trembled, but she dared not interrupt.
Across from her, Gareth's jaw was tight, his foot tapping an impatient rhythm against the wooden floor. His eyes never left Kael.
The healer's hands did not stop moving, mana still coursing into the boy's body, but the slight shake in his shoulders betrayed the truth—Kael's condition wasn't improving. The bruises had faded. His broken arm had knit itself together. Yet something deeper, something unseen, refused to heal.
And with every passing second, the lines on the healer's face deepened, his expression growing grimmer.
Gareth's boots pounded against the wooden floor as he burst into the infirmary, Kael's limp body in his arms.
"How is he?" Gareth demanded, voice clipped.
The healer glanced up from Kael's bed, face grim. "Not good. He's not recovering."
"What do you mean?"
"It's… strange," the healer said, running glowing hands over Kael's chest. "His body has taken damage far beyond what it should be able to endure. I've used high-grade potions—enough to heal even those on death's door—but the effect stopped halfway. The potion worked to its limit… and still it wasn't enough."
Gareth frowned. "That's impossible. High-grade potions can heal anything short of fatal curse damage."
"Yes," the healer said sharply. "But this… this is different. It's as if the very foundation of his body has been damaged. Something in that forest changed him on a fundamental level. The damage isn't just flesh and bone—it's deeper. Beyond what a mortal body should endure."
Gareth's voice dropped. "Then how do we heal him?"
The healer hesitated, then shook his head. "We can't. Not with what we have. Only the highest-grade elixirs might save him—and we don't have any here. If we sent word to the main family, they could send one… but it would never arrive in time."
"How long does he have?"
The healer's eyes darkened. "Five minutes… at most. If we don't act before then, he's gone."
Liana's hands flew to her mouth, a broken sound escaping her lips.
Hot tears welled up and streamed down her cheeks before she could stop them.
Her legs gave out. She crumpled to the floor, knees hitting the cold stone, sobs shaking her shoulders.
The old healer's gaze softened, heavy with helplessness. Gareth's jaw tightened, but his eyes carried the same quiet pity.
They had done everything they could.
And still… Kael was slipping away.
The healer's hands finally stilled. His shoulders sagged as he stepped back from the bed, gaze heavy with defeat.
He turned to Gareth and gave a slow, grim shake of his head. No words were needed, but still…
"I'm sorry, young lady," the old healer said, his voice low, almost reluctant to break the silence. "I did everything I could. But… it's beyond me. He has only moments left."
Liana's sobs deepened instantly, as if the words had cracked something inside her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling uncontrollably.
Still, she forced herself upright, her legs shaking beneath her weight.
One step.
Another.
Until she reached the side of the bed.
Kael lay there—eyes closed, chest rising so faintly it was a miracle he still breathed at all. Faint stains of blood marred his pale skin, and the faint metallic tang of it lingered in the air.
Her hands, trembling so badly she could barely control them, cupped his cheek. It was still warm, but only just.
"Why…" Her voice cracked, breaking apart into sobs. "Why did you do it?"
She bent closer, tears falling onto his skin.
"You always do this… rushing into danger. And every time, I try to stop you, but you never listen. You'd just smile and say nothing would happen to you."
Her lips twisted into a pained laugh, broken and hollow.
"Nothing would happen… you promised you'd come back to me." Her breath hitched. "So why… why are you lying here like this?"
Liana had lost her voice.
She simply lay by Kael's side, her trembling hands pressed against his chest.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping onto the sheets, as she shook with grief.
Gareth and the old healer stood nearby, their faces shadowed with pity. They had done everything they could. But now… there was nothing left.
Liana's lips moved in silent desperation before her voice finally broke.
She pleaded—again and again—not to God alone, but to anyone who could hear.
To the gods, to the demons, to the devils themselves.
Take anything from me. Anything. Just save him. Please.
Gareth stepped forward, meaning to place a hand on her shoulder, though he carried no hope left for Kael's recovery.
But before he could touch her, light bloomed in front of him.
Instinct took over—he stepped back, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword.
Yet there was no danger. No threat.
The golden radiance was… warm. Calming. Even in the face of death, it eased the ache in his body, washing away the fatigue in his bones.
The entire room was bathed in it.
The source—Liana.
Her hands were glowing with a brilliant gold, light spilling from her skin like liquid fire. Her whole body seemed transformed, as though she were some mourning goddess, crying out to save the one she loved.
The golden light flowed from her palms into Kael's body.
At first, she was as shocked as anyone else. But deep inside, she could feel it—this light could save him.
And so, without hesitation, without thought for her own safety, she poured every drop of that golden light into him.
Liana could feel it—Kael's breathing steadied beneath her trembling hands, the chaotic flow of his mana settling into a calm rhythm. Life was returning to him. Relief washed over her as his body slowly began to recover.
She held on for as long as she could, pouring every last drop of her strength into him. When her power finally ran dry, the golden light that had filled the room began to fade, leaving behind a quiet, serene stillness.
The old healer, who had stood frozen in awe, finally stirred. Composing himself, he stepped forward, placing a hand on Kael's chest and sending a thread of mana through his body. His eyes widened.
He looked first at Gareth, then at Liana.
"He's… okay," the healer breathed.
"What?" Gareth asked, disbelief in his voice.
"His body has recovered," the healer confirmed. Then, turning to Liana, he added with a faint smile, "Whatever you did, young lady… you saved his life."
Liana tried to smile back, but it was faint and weary. The exhaustion was too much. Her body swayed before she collapsed onto the bed beside Kael, her hand resting near his.
Gareth and the healer exchanged a look, confusion mingling with relief. Neither of them understood what had just happened.
But they weren't the only ones.
Outside the infirmary, whispers had already begun. Many had seen the golden light streaming through the windows, felt its calming warmth, almost… holy in nature.
Whatever had happened here today… would be the talk of the fortress for days to come.