The ritual reached its crescendo, the air humming so loudly that the very ground began to vibrate. Just as Evelyn was about to deliver the final surge, the night was torn apart.
BOOM!
A massive explosion rocked the camp, followed by a rain of golden arrows that hissed through the air, trailing trails of "Holy Fire." The Sun-Worshippers—the desperate heretics Silas had seen earlier—had launched a suicidal counter-attack, using the chaotic energy of the infusion ritual to mask their approach.
"Heretics!" Captain Vane's roar echoed from outside the pavilion. "To arms! Protect the Arbitress!"
Inside the tent, the sudden interruption caused the magic to go wild. Without Evelyn's constant, focused control, the Triple Dosage began to spiral into a lethal backlash. The violet vortex turned jagged, sparks of black lightning arching across the room.
"Dammit!" Evelyn hissed, her face turning deathly pale. She had poured too much of her own essence into the ritual. As the backlash hit, her legs buckled, and she collapsed against the dragon-bone throne. The violet fire in her eyes flickered—she was about to be consumed by her own magic.
Silas saw his moment. He could use the chaos to vanish into the shadows, to flee into the Border Marches and never look back.
Instead, he lunged toward her.
He didn't attack. He caught her. As his arms wrapped around Evelyn's waist, he felt the raging, white-hot storm of energy inside her body. It was enough to vaporize a city block.
[Emergency Protocol: Redirecting Backlash.]
[Host Silas is now acting as a 'Grounding Wire' for Target Evelyn.]
[Warning: Integrity of the Host's physical shell is at 12%. Force-absorbing...]
To Evelyn, it felt as if a cool, soothing wind had suddenly entered a burning building. Silas was acting as a sponge, drawing the deadly overflow into his own body. In her delirious state, she clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her silver hair obscuring his vision.
"You... what are you..." she gasped, her breath hot against his neck.
"Saving my Master," Silas gritted his teeth, the lie tasting like copper in his mouth. In reality, the System was celebrating.
[Critical Absorption! 3000 Points of High-Grade Essence acquired!]
[Level 2 Evolution stabilized. Path toward Level 3: 45%.]
By the time Captain Vane burst into the pavilion, sword drawn and covered in blood, the ritual had subsided. Silas lay on the floor, coughing up dark blood and gasping for air, looking every bit the hero who had nearly died to protect his Lady. Evelyn stood over him, her expression a mask of confusion, suspicion, and a strange, flickering debt she couldn't yet name.