Days blended into one another for Magnus and the rest of Freyborn Village. Each day brought the discovery of more people—some to rescue, others to bury—and the gradual clearing of the monsters that had overrun the village. Magnus watched as the community began to rebuild, bit by bit, inching closer to something resembling normalcy. There were still those crippled by grief, but time, as it often did, began to dull even the deepest wounds—provided one could endure the pain long enough to allow the process to start.
For Magnus, no strict routine ever seemed to take hold. Each day brought something different. As the captains and guards pushed their sweeps further from the village hall—their established center point—residents were cautiously allowed to return to their homes. Magnus often joined these efforts, helping clear out monsters or locating survivors, whether injured, disoriented, or simply trapped. On other days, he lent his magic to the doctors and nurses, and when that wasn't needed, he helped move things around for reconstruction. There was no shortage of work. Many buildings required repairs, and the massive breach in the western wall needed sealing.
Before Magnus realized it, nearly a week had slipped by.
Once again, Magnus found himself on a balcony. This time, it wasn't the one attached to his own room but rather Seraline's. Since their rooms were adjacent, the view was still the same—a sweeping overlook of the village. The charred smell that had lingered in the air had finally been swept away by cool winds, and though the western district remained a scarred ruin, there was more energy now.
Movement had returned to the village, and directly beneath him, people were dismantling tents and clearing part of the makeshift campsite surrounding the village hall's central tree.
Is it because people are moving back into their houses?
The thought was interrupted by the soft click of a door. Turning, Magnus saw Rasan step into Seraline's room. Their eyes met, and Magnus raised a finger to his lips, motioning for silence before gesturing toward Seraline's bed. Rasan's brow furrowed in confusion until he followed Magnus's gaze and spotted Halen curled up next to Seraline's unconscious form. A faint smile broke across Rasan's face as he quietly crossed the room to join Magnus on the balcony, easing the door shut behind him.
"I don't think I've ever seen a kid get so attached to someone who's unconscious," Rasan said with a quiet chuckle, his gaze shifting to the village below.
Magnus exhaled through his nose, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"You'd be surprised. Idolization can do strange things to a kid. Where I'm from, it was almost a problem." Rasan raised a brow, his curiosity piqued.
"Oh, is that so? Funny you mention it—I've been meaning to ask where you're from ever since I saw your blonde hair. No offense, but I don't think I've ever met anyone who looks quite like you. The closest thing would be the old stories about elves."
Magnus let out a faint chuckle.
"You'd be surprised how often I hear that comparison. But I'll have to disappoint you—I'm not an elf. Honestly, while I do remember my home, I have no idea where it is in relation to this place. I ended up here because of... an incident." His voice trailed off, and he exhaled softly, the weight of his words settling between them.
Rasan's expression shifted, a trace of sympathy flickering across his face.
"Oh, I see. Sorry for bringing it up if it's a tough subject," Rasan said, his tone lightening.
"I actually came on behalf of the elders to ask if you'd like to attend the banquet tomorrow night—as our guest of honor."
"Banquet?" Magnus echoed, his expression slightly puzzled.
"Yeah, you can see the preparations from here, right?" Rasan gestured over the balcony railing toward the camp below, where Magnus had noticed the tents being cleared earlier.
"Oh, so that's what that was," Magnus muttered, more to himself than to Rasan. He fell silent for a moment, considering, before speaking again.
"I mean, sure, I don't have a reason to refuse. But… is it really a good idea to have a banquet right now? The village isn't fully secured yet, and isn't using up a lot of food risky in a situation like this?" The idea of celebrating now felt strange, almost out of place. But Rasan leaned casually against the railing and offered a different perspective.
"Actually, now's the perfect time for it," he explained.
"Like you said, it doesn't feel like there's time for a banquet. That's the stress talking—the pressure of the situation makes it feel like every second has to be spent fixing things like there's an invisible clock ticking down. But if people stay stuck in that mindset, they'll never start to recover." Rasan took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he continued.
"You're young, Magnus, so maybe you haven't seen it yet, but keeping a sense of normalcy is critical. The world's chaos can pull you in, convince you there's no room for rest, no space for peace. If you let it, you'll get so wrapped up in surviving that you forget to live. And then, before you know it, there's nothing left of the life you had before." His eyes drifted to the horizon, as if lost in memories or thoughts he couldn't quite share.
Magnus stayed quiet, mulling over Rasan's words before finally asking, "Is that something you've experienced?"
Rasan's gaze slowly returned to Magnus, and he shook his head.
"Not personally. I've been lucky. But I've seen it happen to my friends. Nearly all of us captains used to serve in the kingdom's military. I watched good people lose themselves to the weight of it all." He straightened up from the railing and let out a groan, brushing off the somber moment.
"Anyway, sorry. Didn't mean to turn this into a lecture." Magnus shook his head.
"No, it's fine. You gave me something to think about. Let the elders know I'll definitely be there."
"Perfect. A lot of people are looking forward to it." Rasan gave Magnus a pat on the shoulder before heading back inside. The soft click of the door marked his exit, leaving the room silent once again.
Magnus stepped back into Seraline's room from the balcony. He noticed Halen stirring awake, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands as he looked groggily toward the door, then at Magnus.
"Don't worry, it was just Rasan," Magnus reassured him. "Did you have a nice nap?"
Halen nodded sleepily, sitting up as he blinked the drowsiness from his eyes.
"Well, that's good," Magnus said with a soft smile.
"Rasan was just telling me about the banquet tomorrow night. Do you want to-" His words cut off mid-sentence as movement from the bed drew his attention. Halen's head snapped around as well. The figure under the covers shifted slightly, her face scrunching as she let out a faint moan. Then, slowly, her eyes began to flutter open.
"Seraline?" Magnus called out, disbelief and relief mingling in his voice. The sound of his voice seemed to stir her further. Her eyes squinted against the light filtering into the room as she slowly came to.
"What…" The single word escaped her lips as she tried to sit up, only to stop with a wince as dull pain rippled through her body. Before she could push herself further, gentle hands pressed against her shoulders. Looking down, she saw Halen, his face etched with concern as he urged her back down.
"Stop. You're hurt," he murmured, his voice quiet but firm. Seraline blinked at him for a moment, her expression unreadable, before letting herself ease back onto the bed. As she settled, Magnus stepped closer, positioning himself where she wouldn't have to strain to see him.
"So… how are you feeling?" He asked, a wide grin betraying his relief.
Seraline considered the question for a moment, then answered simply, "Stiff."
Magnus chuckled, nodding.
"Well, you have been in bed for a while. Do you remember what happened?"
Her brow furrowed as she thought. It didn't take long for the memories to come rushing back: saving the boy, fighting the giant mana beast, and the final clash. As the scenes played in her mind, her gaze drifted to Halen, who was now sitting by her side. He was smiling—a clear, genuine smile, the happiest Magnus had ever seen from him. Seraline's expression softened at the sight, and a faint smile curved her lips.
"He hasn't left your side once since you fell unconscious," Magnus said.
The news seemed to surprise her. She glanced at Magnus, then back to Halen. It looked as though she was searching for the right words. In the end, all she said was, "Thank you."
Those two simple words lit Halen's face up even more. He leaned in to hug her, his small arms wrapped gently around her—but even that caused Seraline to groan softly in pain. Halen immediately pulled back, looking apologetic, but Seraline gave him a reassuring smile.
"It's fine," she said quietly. After a few moments of convincing, she managed to get Halen to lie down beside her in a way that wouldn't press against her injuries. She raised her hand to gently brush his hair, something he seemed to like. Magnus could tell the movement still hurt her, but Seraline didn't seem to mind.
"How long was I out?" She asked, glancing between Halen and Magnus.
"About a week," Magnus replied.
"Hmm. Not as long as I thought." She looked thoughtful, but Magnus shrugged, his gaze drifting down to her right side.
"Maybe. But still..." His voice trailed off as Seraline followed his line of sight to where her right arm used to be. She had noticed it the moment she woke up. She had felt it when it happened—felt the searing pain as the Flame Wolf's attack consumed her arm. The force of the blow had knocked her unconscious, but not before the realization had burned itself into her mind. Even now, the phantom sensation lingered, a distant echo of the pain.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, steadying herself. When she opened them again, Magnus spoke.
"Seraline... I can heal all your other injuries now that you're awake, but..." Magnus hesitated, his voice dropping slightly.
"I can't heal your arm. Not at the level I'm at now." As he spoke, he carefully watched her reaction. Seraline took a deep breath, and when her gaze met his again, it was clear. The haze of unconsciousness was gone, and her voice carried more strength as she responded.
"That's fine." Magnus blinked, caught off guard by that answer. He hadn't expected a breakdown—it wasn't in her character—but her composure still surprised him.
Ok, well, she's taking losing an arm pretty damn well.
"Well, even if you're okay with it, your family probably won't be. And I doubt Luden will take it lightly either," he added. He didn't know much about her family, but as the heiress, her injury would surely send shockwaves through them. As for Luden, Magnus could only imagine how someone as calculating as him would handle one of his best knights losing a limb. Seraline fell quiet for a moment, her gaze shifting toward the window near her bed. The sunlight filtering through framed her thoughtful expression.
"As long as I can show them I'm stronger because of it, I'll be fine," she muttered.
Magnus let out a sigh, shaking his head.
"I have no clue how you have so much conviction and confidence in yourself, but hey, I'm not about to be the one to argue with it. Let's get you healed up, and then I'll fill you in on everything that's happened while you were out." He reached into his storage ring, retrieving a small spell catalyst.
"I tried doing this while you were asleep, but your aura didn't exactly agree with me. Nearly took my finger off," he said with a smirk.
"Let's hope it's more cooperative this time." Seraline nodded softly.
"Don't worry. You won't feel any resistance now." She retracted her aura, the protective energy that had been instinctively active even while she was unconscious. Hearing that she was about to be healed, Halen quickly scrambled off the bed, giving Magnus space to work. Not that he needed much.
"Great. Now, give me a second," Magnus said, placing the catalyst on an exposed part of her arm.
"I'll need to memorize the structure of your body before I can do anything." The moment the catalyst made contact, a surge of mana coursed through Seraline's body, carrying an intense influx of information directly to Magnus. He focused, diving into the details: every burn, every fracture, every misaligned joint, every strain. Her body told a story of relentless endurance. The damage wasn't just from her fight with the mana beast—though that alone had pushed her to her limits. Magnus could see the accumulated toll of years of intense training, battles, and self-imposed strain. The scars of her efforts were etched into her very bones. If her aura hadn't protected her, she would have succumbed to the weight of her own ambition long ago.
Meanwhile, Seraline remained unnervingly still, her instincts screaming at her to push the foreign mana out of her body. A knight's reflexes warned her of the potential risk, but she held firm, trusting Magnus.
After several minutes of concentration, Magnus finally leaned back, exhaling as the flow of information slowed.
"Got it," he murmured.
[Perfective Regeneration]
Seraline's eyes widened as she became acutely aware of what was happening inside her body. For a knight, the first thing their aura attunes to upon awakening is their physical self—the vessel through which they experience the world. She could feel every detail: the dull aches intensifying before joints popped back into alignment, the itchiness of rapidly regenerating tissue, bones knitting themselves together, and skin reforming with fresh layers. Yet, the sensation was perplexing.
While she could sense the mana from the catalyst coursing through her, it wasn't the catalyst that was driving this miraculous healing. Nor was it similar to the incomprehensible power they'd felt with Monlam. With Monlam, she hadn't understood the source, but at least she could discern its presence.
This feeling... it's as if the world itself is fixing me.
That was the only way she could describe the process. When the process was complete, Magnus exhaled sharply, breaking from his focused state.
"All done," he said, detaching the mana catalyst from her arm. As he severed his control, the runes on the device dimmed, and its contained mana dissipated into the ambient flow of the world.
Technically, each catalyst could sustain thirty minutes of use, but Magnus rarely needed that long to heal someone. The downside was that once activated, it could only work on the target it had bonded to. A waste, perhaps, but given the results, it was a trade-off he was more than willing to make.
Down to two left.
Magnus thought to himself, slipping the drained catalyst back into his storage ring. Between Seraline and the severely injured villagers he'd treated, he'd used seven in total. Two remained for emergencies, and while that wasn't much, they were powerful enough to be game-changers if used strategically.
Turning his attention back to Seraline, he asked, "So, how do you feel? Any issues?"
Seraline examined herself, flexing her hand and raising her arm experimentally. The pain she'd just grown accustomed to—the sharp stabs of movement or the dull ache of bandages brushing against her skin—was entirely gone. Only the memory of it lingered. Yet something felt… off.
"I feel…" She began, trailing off as she pushed the covers aside and stood. Magnus took a step back as Seraline walked to the center of the room with an ease that sharply contrasted her heavily bandaged appearance. She stretched briefly, then leaned forward, extended her arm, and balanced herself in a one-handed handstand. Effortlessly, she began doing push-ups in the position, her movements fluid and precise.
Halen stared, starstruck.
Magnus, less so, muttered, "Okay, I'll take that as a yes."
"Magnus," Seraline called, still balancing as she looked over at him.
"Yes?"
"What exactly did you do? I don't feel… normal." She struggled to put it into words but explained that her body felt sturdier yet more flexible. Her skin, though unchanged in appearance, felt different—stretching, contracting, and pulling in ways it hadn't before. Magnus rubbed the back of his neck, thinking.
"Oh, that's probably because of how I healed you. When I heal, the regeneration improves on whatever's repaired. Normally, I focus on how everything was damaged and rebuild it in a way so that it won't happen as easily next time. For you, though, since I can't see how you got injured exactly, I used a broader approach and made a few general improvements. Even without your aura, a normal blade won't do much more than scratch your skin now." Seraline dropped gracefully back onto her feet, her attention still inward as she stretched and tested her body.
Then, glancing at Magnus, she asked, "I didn't know you could do that. Though, I suppose that explains why you're able to take blows the way you do despite being a mage. Is it permanent?"
Magnus avoided her gaze, muttering something under his breath before answering aloud.
"Uh, yeah, it is. Also, Seraline, you're still… just wearing bandages, you know." She blinked, then looked down at herself, realizing he was right. Her clothing had been discarded after her fight, leaving her wrapped head to toe like a mummy.
"Oh," she said, entirely calm. Walking back to the bed, she pulled the blanket off and draped it over her shoulders like a makeshift cloak.
"Forgive me."
"Cool!" Halen exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. He had been watching intently the entire time, and that single word seemed to sum up all his feelings. Hearing him, the corners of Seraline's lips curved up ever so slightly, though her face quickly returned to neutrality as she moved to sit back down on the bed. Halen wasted no time hopping up beside her, and she began absentmindedly rubbing his head again as she spoke.
"You know, Magnus, you should be careful with that healing ability of yours." Her tone carried a hint of caution, drawing Magnus's attention. Finally able to meet her gaze again, he turned toward her.
"It's called [Perfective Regeneration]. And… why?" Magnus asked, his brow furrowing slightly.
Seraline glanced down at herself, running her fingers over her bandaged arm before explaining.
"Spells that can alter the body aren't exactly rare, Magnus. Plenty exist. But most of them are temporary and need to be maintained with mana. Permanent ones… well, they're much riskier. The side effects can be so severe that very few people even attempt them. If those limitations didn't exist, wars—and the industry around them—would look entirely different from what we know today." Her eyes rose to meet Magnus's again, and for a moment, she held his gaze.
"What I'm trying to say is that if mages can enhance a person's body to be faster, stronger, and more durable, imagine the implications. Soldiers could be turned into something… more. It's one of the reasons why magic is tightly controlled and kept out of the hands of ordinary people. The potential for abuse is staggering. Even if you don't think much of your ability now, there are plenty of people out there who'd pay anything—or do anything—to get access to it. You understand what I'm saying, right?" Magnus's frown deepened as he absorbed her words. For the first time, he let his mind wander to the implications.
I guess I've never really thought about it that way… but she's right. With [Perfective Regeneration], I could make someone nearly immune to the things that normally kill a person. Bones that can't be shattered, skin that resists fire or blades—not quite superhuman, but definitely close.
Seeing the realization dawn on him, Seraline continued.
"Knights are already considered the ultimate soldiers, which is why the military does everything it can to recruit as many as possible. But even we have limits—there are only so many of us, and we're just individuals. Imagine an army of thousands, or even tens of thousands, enhanced by your ability. Soldiers who couldn't be cut through no matter how hard you tried. It wouldn't just be a game-changer—it would be worth more than a hundred Apprentice-level knights." Magnus stared at her, his thoughts spiraling. She wasn't talking about sheer destructive power. Knights were fast, strong, and exceptionally hard to kill, but they were still individuals.
A war couldn't be won with a single troop, and forming an army of knights was neither practical nor realistic. But an army of enhanced soldiers? He could almost picture it: standing on a battlefield, swinging a blade, only to find it stopped cold against the bone under the flesh that refused to yield.
"Hmm…" Magnus hummed, unsettled by the image. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and his face showed his discomfort.
Seraline gave him a moment before speaking again.
"Anyway, I just wanted to warn you. Not that I think you're in any real danger. You're a disciple of the Keeper of Knowledge, after all. Even if word got out, I'm sure you'd be fine."
Magnus nodded slowly, her words snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Right… Well, thanks for telling me. I hadn't really thought of it that way."
Satisfied, Seraline gave him a small nod before shifting the conversation.
"So, what exactly happened while I was unconscious?"