Chapter 25 – A Test of Endurance

  The battlefield still reeked of blood and burnt flesh. Smoke curled from the remains of torn monsters, their bodies sprawled across the broken earth. The mana surge had drawn them in like a call to feast. Now, the knights moved through the aftermath, not with caution, but with precise, trained efficiency.

  Unlike the academy students, these warriors were not here to prove themselves—they were here to finish the job.

  A pair of knights moved in perfect coordination, shields raised as a monster lunged toward them. The beast’s teeth scraped against the reinforced metal, its weight slamming into the barrier—but neither knight flinched.

  They didn’t need to.

  A third knight, standing just behind them, adjusted his stance. He wasn’t wielding a refined dueling sword or an elegant enchanted blade. His weapon was a heavier longsword—built not for precision, but for raw, brutal execution.

  The moment the beast reared back for another attack, the knight stepped forward. With a single, deliberate swing, the blade cut clean through its neck.

  Blood splattered against the ground. The corpse hit the dirt before the two shield-bearers even moved to reset their stance.

  It was seamless. Brutal. Efficient.

  One of the younger knights, watching from the rear, exhaled. “That looked easy.”

  The heavy-blade wielder snorted. “That’s because it is. If you have the right weapon.”

  The knight next to him rolled his shoulder. “Small weapons control. Heavy swords execute. That’s the whole point.”

  No elemental augmentation. No complicated formations. Just teamwork, positioning, and a weapon strong enough to kill without magic.

  A short distance away, Hannelore’s gaze lingered on the knights.

  She wasn’t watching the fight itself, but rather the methodology.

  The fluidity of it. The uncomplicated practicality of how the heavy sword carved through the enemy with no need for additional reinforcement.

  Her fingers curled slightly at her side.

  “Tobias was right about heavy weapons.”

  Lucien raised an eyebrow. “Are you keeping a tally now?”

  She didn’t reply.

  The knights continued their formation-based combat, but something was shifting.

  One of the rear guards paused, his fingers flexing slightly. A soft glow flickered across his hand, the first sign of stable mana flow returning.

  “Magic’s stabilizing,” someone muttered.

  Another knight tested a low-level earth spell, watching as the ground trembled beneath his fingers. The disruption was fading.

  “Took long enough,” one of them muttered. “Would’ve been nice to have it ten minutes ago.”

  The elite knight leading the retrieval effort exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulder as he finally felt his magic settle back into place.

  His gaze moved toward the broken remains of the relic, still half-buried in the earth. Excavation was a waste of time.

  The knight stepped forward, placing a palm flat against the shattered ground.

  The earth rumbled beneath his touch.

  With a deep breath, he lifted his arm—and the entire section of ground beneath the relic tore free, rising into the air like a floating island.

  A massive chunk of battlefield, several meters wide, hovered above them—the relic still buried inside, surrounded by layers of stone and sediment.

  The knight wiped the sweat from his brow and rolled his shoulder.

  “I don’t wanna fucking be here anymore.”

  He turned, already walking. “We’re taking the whole damn thing back. Deal with the excavation later.”

  One of the other knights nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Let’s move before another wave shows up.”

  With the floating chunk of battlefield hovering behind them, the knights disappeared into the treeline—silent, orderly, and uninterested in staying here a second longer than necessary.

  Back at Arcadia, the sharp thudding of fists against Jessica’s door had long since stopped being an annoyance and had become background noise—just another rhythmic irritation she could ignore.

  She exhaled slowly, rolling her wrist as she sat on the edge of her bed. It still hurt.

  The door rattled.

  “Lady Moran! You need to return to the infirmary!”

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  Jessica pinched the bridge of her nose. The healers were persistent, she’d give them that.

  “I’m fine.”

  A second voice chimed in—this one from the elite student healer.

  “We told you already—your body isn’t responding to generalized healing magic! It requires precise, surgical treatment!”

  Jessica clicked her tongue. “Yes, yes. ‘Generalized healing won’t work, and I need surgical precision, blah blah blah.’ I heard you the first time.”

  Then a low, unimpressed voice rumbled from the other side.

  “Unlock the door before I kick it down.”

  She sighed. Of course, Tobias was here.

  The moment she unlocked it, he threw her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

  Jessica kicked her legs, trying to wiggle free. “You’re seriously doing this?!”

  Tobias didn’t slow. “You’re giving the medical staff a hard time, and I’m not dealing with your nonsense today.”

  The first treatment had been brutal.

  The second wasn’t any better.

  The hissing steam hadn’t stopped.

  “At this rate... we’re going to need at least fifty of these treatments minimum.”

  Jessica muttered dryly.

  “I’m glad to receive the blessing of the scalding hot boiled water witch.”

  A younger healer coughed, suppressing a laugh.

  Jessica had gone completely still. Not out of defiance. Just... tired.

  Then, Tobias noticed it.

  Tears.

  Not sobs. Not broken cries. Just silent, involuntary tears running down her face.

  Tobias had seen his sister fight through pain. He had seen her brush off wounds without so much as a wince.

  But even she had stopped talking now.

  The healer sighed, shaking her head.

  “When we start working on the abdominal region, we might have to restrain her.”

  Tobias’ jaw tensed slightly. “...You’re serious?”

  The only sound in the room was the steady hiss of steam rising from Jessica’s arms.

  For the first time, Tobias actually looked concerned.

  Jessica finally blinked, her gaze shifting toward him.

  For once, she didn’t have a quip ready.

  The pain hadn’t broken her. But it had made her tired.

  Tobias met her eyes for a brief second.

  Then, after a long, steady breath, he turned back to the healers. “Just get it over with.”

  No sarcasm. No annoyance.

  Just quiet, resigned acceptance.

  Chapter 26 – A Misunderstanding of Agony

  A few days had passed since the relic was retrieved.

  Lucien walked through the academy halls, his thoughts still caught on the conversation he had just left.

  The investigation into the relic—as they were now calling it—had yielded frustratingly little.

  The problem wasn’t just that it had been found in an unexpected location. The problem was that it didn’t match anything.

  The design, the rune structure, the materials—it wasn’t like any relic currently used in modern enchantment or warfare.

  And if something couldn’t be dated properly, that meant it came from a time period that had been deliberately erased or lost.

  That was a problem.

  Lucien exhaled sharply.

  He wasn’t sure why he thought of Jessica at that moment—maybe it was the fact that she had been the first person to suggest something was there in the first place.

  She didn’t even know there was an investigation happening.

  Maybe she should.

  It wasn’t like she had anything better to do right now.

  Lucien changed direction, heading toward Jessica’s dorm.

  He figured she would be recovering in her room by now. If the healers had finished their work, then she should have been back to normal.

  They had told him she was fine.

  The door was locked.

  Lucien frowned.

  Knocking once, he waited. No answer.

  Strange.

  Jessica wasn’t the type to sit around doing nothing. Maybe she was already back at training?

  He turned and walked down the corridor, still rolling the thought around in his mind—until he ran into Tobias.

  Lucien immediately registered something was off.

  Tobias looked pale.

  Not shaken, not like he had seen a ghost—but like he had just walked away from something that left a bad taste in his mouth.

  Lucien raised a brow. “Have you seen Jessica? She’s not in her room.”

  Tobias exhaled slowly, pressing a hand against the side of his face. His expression was unreadable, but the stiffness in his posture said everything.

  Then, after a long pause, he spoke softly.

  “...The infirmary.”

  Lucien’s brow furrowed. “The infirmary?”

  That didn’t make sense.

  She should have been fine.

  The healers had said so.

  His feet were already moving before he could think too much about it.

  Lucien wasn’t sure why this was bothering him.

  Jessica wasn’t weak. She had walked out of the forest covered in blood and wounds and still stood tall.

  So why the hell was she still in the infirmary?

  Something wasn’t adding up.

  Maybe the healers had miscalculated her injuries. Maybe she was just being stubborn and refusing to rest properly.

  She should have been fine by now.

  That thought settled uncomfortably in his chest.

  Then, as he approached the infirmary doors—he heard it.

  A scream.

  Not just a cry of pain. Not just a wince.

  Agony.

  Lucien’s steps halted.

  Another sound followed—a muffled, raw choked-out noise, as if someone was biting down on something just to stop from screaming.

  And then the smell hit him.

  The sharp, scalding scent of burning flesh.

  His stomach twisted.

  His feet were already moving before he could process the action.

  Lucien shoved open the infirmary doors, expecting—he didn’t know what.

  What he saw made his breath catch.

  Jessica was restrained, tied down against the infirmary bed with thick reinforced bindings, arms and legs secured. A biting gag was strapped into place, likely to keep her from thrashing or biting down on her tongue.

  Her body was covered in blisters, red and raw, steam rising from the exposed areas of her arms, shoulders, and collarbone.

  The smell of boiling flesh hung thick in the air.

  The healers were gathered around her, hands glowing with water-imbued magic, their expressions grim. Senior students—some of the most advanced healers in the academy—stood at attention, monitoring the process like assistants in an operating theater.

  Jessica wasn’t screaming anymore.

  She was panting, shallow, ragged breaths escaping past the gag, her face slick with sweat and—

  Tears.

  Lucien’s chest tightened.

  His voice came before he could stop himself.

  “How is this even necessary?” He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to process what he was seeing. “She was walking. I saw her. She should have been fine.”

  The healers explained everything—how healing magic didn’t work, how they were forcing it into her body like a surgical tool. How without precise healing, her reflexes and movement would never fully recover.

  Then came the final remark—the one that made his stomach tighten.

  “Not like any nobleman would want a magic cripple, anyway.”

  Lucien’s jaw clenched.

  “You better treat those blisters with the utmost care,” he said coldly, “with or without magic power.”

  A scoff broke the silence.

  “It’ll be expensive without magic, even for a backwater noble.”

  Lucien didn’t hesitate. “I’ll cover it.”

  This is stupid.

  Why am I even getting this involved?

  But the irritation in his chest didn’t fade.

  And that bothered him more than anything else.

  Lucien lingered for a moment longer, staring at Jessica’s unconscious form.

  Even after the healers finished, even after the worst of the treatment ended, something felt off.

  She shouldn’t have needed this level of intervention.

  She shouldn’t have survived the forest battle in the first place.

  And yet, here she was.

  The bite gag had been removed now, and her expression was—blank.

  Not peaceful. Not unconscious.

  Just blank.

  Lucien exhaled, turning sharply on his heel.

  He didn’t want to be here anymore.