"Of course. We know how to repay a favor," Howarth replied softly, his smile faint but his eyes sharp.
The hooded figure in red did not answer. He simply sat calmly atop his horse, looking at them one by one as if weighing the value of goods in a market.
Josselyn bit her lip. "If you want compensation, just say it. But he…" she glanced at Sebastian, "…doesn't have much time."
Sebastian let out a quiet snort. "Don't… talk as if I'm going to die."
"That is very possible," Josselyn shot back quickly.
"You underestimate me."
"Howarth," Josselyn turned, her voice tightening, "his coughing blood shows the poison is starting to affect his vital organs."
Howarth did not answer right away. His gaze remained fixed on the hooded man.
"Let's move this along," he said at last.
"What do you want?"
Instead of answering, the figure dismounted.
His movements were calm. Measured. Unhurried, as if he knew no one there could force him.
"Josselyn is right. He doesn't have time," he said flatly, ignoring Howarth's question. "If you keep talking, he will die before the sun shifts even a finger's width."
Josselyn clenched her fists. A curse hovered at the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back.
"Then stop playing games and help us!"
"Josselyn…" Sebastian tried to warn her, but his breath cut off mid-sentence.
The hooded man stepped closer.
"I can help him." His gaze moved between the three of them. "Consider it first aid for now. But after that, he will still need further treatment."
Josselyn let out a breath without realizing it. Right now, her only thought was saving Sebastian.
"How?" Howarth asked quickly, his hands clenched at his sides.
"In a way you won't understand."
"Try me," Howarth replied coldly. "I understand quite a lot."
The figure stopped a few steps away and looked at Howarth sharply. "Energy transfer."
Several soldiers immediately exchanged glances.
"Magic?" one muttered.
"Nonsense," another scoffed.
The murmurs grew louder, then fell silent when Howarth let out a sharp laugh.
"That is no ordinary magic. Even in the palace, only a handful can do it. And you? Claiming you can?" His eyes narrowed as he scanned the red-hooded figure from head to toe. "You don't even look like someone from the palace."
The man did not change his expression.
"That's right," he said calmly. "Which is why I cannot do it alone."
His gaze shifted to Josselyn.
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I need you."
Silence.
Howarth subtly moved closer to Josselyn, placing himself a step in front of her. But the hooded man seemed to ignore him entirely.
"What?" Josselyn gasped. "Are you trying to toy with us with that nonsense? We are in an emergency!"
Her voice rose. A sharp surge ran through her body, all the way to her head. She could not comprehend the man in front of her.
How could he say something so absurd? Energy transfer? Ridiculous.
As if reading her expression, the hooded man stepped closer until only inches separated them.
Josselyn stared at him, confused. Then, in the next second, she froze as he leaned slightly toward her. She could even feel his breath against her cheek.
"Haven't you been feeling something strange lately?" he whispered.
Josselyn went rigid.
"W-what do you mean?"
His breath brushed her again.
"Your wounds…" he tilted his head slightly. "They've been closing faster than they should, haven't they?"
Her chest tightened. The memory surfaced without warning. Blood. Wounds. Pain. And an impossible change.
"How do you know that?" she whispered back. As far as she knew, only Yorick knew. She had never told anyone else, especially not someone outside the palace.
"I knew Althea."
The name stole her attention instantly. A flood of emotions surged through her mind.
Althea, her late mother, the legendary alchemist of Valenroth.
Josselyn stared at him, eyes wide, as he straightened his posture.
"That's impossible." She shook her head, disbelief clear in her voice.
A cough sounded again. This time drier, more painful.
Josselyn turned reflexively.
She saw Sebastian's back convulsing as he doubled over.
"Sir!" Josselyn grabbed his arm, steadying him so he would not collapse further.
The hooded man exhaled softly. "If you want him to live, listen to me."
Josselyn looked at him, unease creeping into her chest. "What should I do?"
Howarth immediately turned. "Josselyn."
"We don't have time," she replied quickly.
"And we don't know who he is."
"But he knows something," Josselyn whispered. "Think of Sebastian, sir."
Meanwhile, Sebastian let out a low groan. Pain was beginning to take hold of his body.
Josselyn closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again.
"Fine," she said at last. "We'll do it."
The man gave a small nod. "Place your hand on his chest."
Josselyn hesitated, but when she saw Sebastian's pale face, she did it anyway.
"Now," he continued, "do not resist anything you feel."
"What do you—"
"Quiet."
His tone changed. Deeper. Firmer.
Howarth watched closely. His hand never left the hilt of his sword since Josselyn agreed.
"If he tries anything, he will face the consequences," he muttered.
The man did not respond. He raised his hand, as if controlling something unseen.
"Focus," he said softly.
Josselyn took a breath.
At first, nothing happened. Then her body stiffened.
"What…"
"Do not resist," he repeated.
Josselyn bit her lip. Something felt wrong. It was not like energy entering her. It was something leaving.
Her eyes widened. "This…"
"Quiet," he whispered.
She held her breath. The sensation grew stronger. It felt like something was being pulled out of her. Heat, pain, suffocation. As if her skin were being peeled away while she lived.
Her hand trembled against Sebastian's chest.
"This isn't…"
"Let it flow."
Sebastian groaned softly. His chest trembled for a moment. Then, slowly, his breathing changed. More even. Lighter.
Josselyn froze. "He…?"
"Not yet," the man said.
Her body began to weaken. Breathing became difficult. Then Sebastian's chest grew intensely hot, and without realizing it, she pulled her hand away.
"Hot," Josselyn blew on her palm, trying to soothe the burning sensation on her skin.
"Well, you truly are the daughter of the Legendary Alchemist, Josselyn. Your mother would be proud to see this," the man remarked with a smile.
Josselyn frowned, then quickly turned to Sebastian.
Color had begun to return to his face. Not as pale as before. His breathing was steady.
But what unsettled her was that the man who had been groaning in pain moments ago now looked calm, his eyes closed.
"He's still alive, right?" she asked carefully.
The hooded man nodded.
"He's only asleep. You succeeded in removing the poison, Josselyn."