In the blink of an eye, the two weeks for Devotion to recover passed. He had spent most of that time repairing his Qi Foundation, trying to keep it from completely fracturing. Ghostwhisper had guided him for some of that process, then gone back into its seclusion.
Ghostwhisper using its power to save Devotion's consciousness had taken a lot out of it, and it needed to seclude itself again to fully recover. Once again, Devotion would only have the staff form of Ghostwhisper to aid him.
However, the world wasn't standing still while Devotion was recovering. Two weeks was a lot of time for things to change. For example, the moustached man, Salvador Mystace, had grown worried. He sent James Powder to take Devotion's head two weeks ago, and unfortunately, James Powder had not returned yet. Even worse, James had not said where he was going, and Salvador could no longer sense the protective talisman that he had given him. Salvador assumed that Powder had simply run away, taking the magical item for his own.
Salvador, upon two weeks passing since James' departure to kill Devotion, sent a letter to his noble family's head, explaining what had happened and asking for help to seek revenge on Devotion.
"I swear to god, Devotion, I will have your head on my wall or my name isn't Salvador Mystace!" he vowed to himself.
Meanwhile, Devotion was just starting to wake up. He looked down at his physical body, then sucked in a cold breath. It was completely charred black from the Talisman explosion, barely recognizable. That was much worse than Devotion had imagined it would be. He decided it was best not to look at it too long.
Instead, Devotion decided to try standing. He slowly sat up, supporting his upper body on his charred arms. Just sitting up caused pain to shoot up both of his arms. He took a full hour just to get comfortable sitting up, then repeated the process to get on his legs.
Standing up was even harder. It took him seven full attempts to stand before he could stay up without falling immediately. He quickly summoned the staff form of Ghostwhisper, using it to hold his weight.
Devotion took the time to look around. The entire clearing that James Powder had lured him into had been nearly flattened, thanks to the talisman detonation that Powder had activated. A thought crossed Devotion's mind at this moment: where was James Powder?
The answer to that question was quickly located. Not too far off, laying face down in the clearing, was a mangled, charred, corpse. James Powder had not survived the detonation. Devotion slowly staggered over, taking a closer look at the body, then promptly turned around and threw up.
I must remind you, dear reader, that Devotion had never seen violence to this degree in his life. While during the battle, he was able to defend and attack, once adrenaline faded, he was just a man. It was only natural for him to react like this.
"Ysmir?" Devotion croaked out, realizing he hadn't seen the fox since he woke up. He felt something pawing at his neck, and realized that Ysmir had been sitting there the whole time. Looking at Ysmir, Devotion was relieved to learn that it was in much better condition than him. Some of its fur was singed, but other than that, it appeared to be ok.
Devotion vowed to be more careful in the future. That detonation had been truly frightening. He could have lost his life, had he not defended in time.
Devotion was about to leave, setting back on the road, when he thought of something.
Sure, James Powder was his enemy, but he couldn't just leave the corpse there. It would be disrespectful. He spent a few hours digging a grave with Ysmir's help, planting a stick as a makeshift headstone. Burying the dead was the least he could do. With the makeshift ceremony finished, Devotion gathered his belongings and set on the road once again.
It was a shame, the horse that James Powder had been riding had fled in the two weeks they were unconscious.
...
The first few days of Devotion's resumed travel were slow. He was already way behind the pace he wanted, due to the fight, but this was even worse. He had to stop to rest every few miles. Looking at the map and doing some math, Devotion determined that at his current pace, it would take another month to make it to Wanchen! This was unacceptable to Devotion.
Upon stopping to rest for the night, Devotion decided to try using the restoration magical art he knew to heal his body. Already, the burn marks had started to fade, but it wasn't quick enough. This was his first time trying to use Qi since the injuries.
Devotion performed the hand seals, spoke the words, and focused on repairing his legs. A bright white flash of light emerged from his palm, encompassing his leg. He instantly felt his leg restore to decent health, but almost immediately fainted from exertion. He knew he definitely should not use Qi just yet. He was still too injured.
In the blink of an eye, two more weeks passed. Salvador Mystace was still waiting on an answer from his family head, and Devotion was making steady progress, both towards the city of Wanchen and towards his own recovery. The black, burn marks had almost completely faded, save for a scar on his left leg. That scar would not heal, no matter how hard Devotion tried. It was a reminder of how his weakness almost cost him his life.
Ghostwhisper was still in its seclusion. Before it had left, it had told Devotion it would be quite a long time before it could speak again. It told him to try and find a sect or magical college that specialized in Conjuration. His aptitude alone would get him in.
Devotion checked his map once again. At the pace he was moving, he was only one week away from Wanchen. Things were about to look up for him.