In the hushed confines of the ward, Noye's countenance mirrored his inner turmoil.
"This isn't a healing potion. It's unmistakably an incendiary bomb," he muttered, observing Astr's body, charred and peeled, more severe than the healing potion administered by Principal Gabrie.
Exposed, bright red tender meat sizzled beneath Noye's gaze, the heat emanating as if the blood ran with magma. Even the sheets beneath Astr emitted a hiss, veiling the scene in an eerie wisp of smoke.
Noye's fists clenched, eyes fixed unwaveringly on Astr. An unsettling notion crept into his mind—the exposed flesh and blood seemed to writhe, beyond mere imagination.
"No, not an illusion," he gasped as he witnessed Astr's flesh slowly regenerate.
