Chapter 77: Horns?

I grunted, forcing myself to stand as I continued letting the magic flow from me toward her father. The changes were already visible.

Bare flesh was knitting itself back together beneath the cracking stone, while the lesions and rashes covering the other side of his body slowly dwindled, their angry redness fading as healthy skin returned.

But I wasn’t sure I could finish this...

Even with the Fey Core absorbing everything, even with my full mana capacity, it was hellish. Every second felt like I was pouring more and more of myself into him, my body growing heavier as the spell continued.

"Just a little more!"

I bit my lower lip until I tasted blood, feeling something pop sharply along my forehead as I did. Sweat ran down the side of my face, and my legs trembled beneath me.

"L-Lord Brimstone, y-you’re—!"

Seraph shouted, but I couldn’t spare her any attention. The moment I lost focus, I’d pass out without achieving what I came here for.

"I-I’m fine, just—!"

—Just... a little...!

More!

✧ ✦ ✧

W-What happened?

It was the first thing that entered my mind when I regained consciousness. Did I actually pass out from the healing?

"L-Lady Seraph?"

I grunted, using the wall behind me to force myself upright. My arms felt like they belonged to someone else, and my legs nearly gave out the moment I tried putting weight on them.

Just as I’d predicted, walking was barely possible.

"Lady Seraph?"

I fully opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was Seraph hugging her now-awake father. Her arms were wrapped tightly around him, almost as though she were afraid that letting go would make him disappear again.

All signs of the plague had disappeared completely. His skin was clear, his breathing steady, and there wasn’t even a trace of the lesions that had covered him moments ago.

I almost smiled.

But then I noticed the other people in the room.

"So this is where the magical disturbance came from? I definitely did not expect this, though."

"He really is a Brimstone. To think he could heal a disease like that..."

"It’s best we eliminate him to make sure he doesn’t interfere with Lord Lucius. Plan Theatre is scrapped."

Three white-robed figures spoke among themselves while I tried to regain my bearings. Their voices sounded distant, almost muffled, as though I were hearing them from underwater.

But it was impossible to focus.

Before I could even form a fist to fight back, I clutched at my head instead, a spike of pain driving straight through my skull.

Another side effect of the mana drain.

"F-Fuck."

I blinked several times. When I looked toward the figure on the left, he had already formed a dagger of fire in his hand. Flames crawled along the blade, casting a faint orange glow across his sleeve.

A second later, he was preparing to stab me.

But...

SLASH!

I heard the sound of skin being pierced.

"What...?"

I was still standing.

The man holding the dagger wasn’t.

He crumpled to the floor, blood spilling from the wound as something cold and pale flashed through my blurred vision.

I couldn’t see clearly. My vision was still spinning, and the room seemed to sway around me.

But I could swear I saw ice mingling with blood.

Was it... Seraph?

THUD!

✧ ✦ ✧

GASP!

I woke again, sitting up in a bed I didn’t recognize.

I hadn’t expected to pass out twice in a row, but here we were.

I looked around, half-expecting hell, heaven, or a jail cell. Instead, I found a comfortable room, a thick blanket covering me, and pillows thoroughly marked with the silhouette of my head.

At least someone had bothered to make me comfortable.

"A-Are you okay, Lord Brimstone?"

Seraph’s voice came from my right.

I flinched in surprise, and the sudden movement sent another sharp spike of pain through my skull.

"Y-You shouldn’t move so suddenly in your condition."

Her cold hands touched my chin, tilting it back. Before I knew it, she’d pressed a healing potion to my lips.

The bitter liquid went down my throat, and within moments, the headache began to recede. The pressure behind my eyes faded, my breathing steadied, and my vision gradually cleared.

"What happened?"

"The Citadel noticed the surge of magic from your spell. But like I promised, I turned on them to protect you."

So that’s what happened.

I glanced toward her, still trying to piece together everything that had happened before I passed out.

"What about your father?"

Seraph’s eyes welled with tears when I mentioned him. But if I wasn’t mistaken, an actual smile bloomed on her mouth as she said it.

"He’s doing okay, Lord Brimstone."

Her voice trembled slightly.

"Better than he’s been in six years."

Seraph’s hand lingered on my chin for a moment longer than necessary before she pulled back, seemingly remembering herself. The tears hadn’t fallen, but they were close, and she wiped at her eyes with a quick, almost embarrassed motion.

"I apologize. That was unprofessional."

"Crying is more than justified after what I just did."

She didn’t respond to that. Instead, she turned to a small table beside the bed and poured a glass of water from a ceramic pitcher. Her hands were steady now, the earlier tremble gone.

Even better, she was showing much more emotion now.

"Three operatives," I said, accepting the glass. "What happened to the bodies?"

"Hidden. I used an illusion to put my father to sleep before I moved. After killing them, I dragged their bodies down to the basement. My father is resting in the next room. He doesn’t know what happened."

"Good. Keep it that way."

She nodded, settling into a chair beside the bed. Her posture was still rigid, but exhaustion flickered at the edges of her expression, the kind that came from years of holding everything together and the sudden release of a burden finally lifted.

"How long was I out?"

"Four hours. It’s past midnight now."

Four hours. That meant the final day of the trip had already begun. The theatre performance was scheduled for the afternoon. And I was lying in a bed, barely able to lift my arms.

"But I do have to ask, Lord Brimstone, why do you have horns on your forehead?"

What...?