Chapter 48: A Sovereign’s Concern
The ceiling tiles had lost their charm somewhere around the fortieth hour.
Damon sat on the edge of his bed, fully dressed in his academy uniform, waiting for the nurse to return with his discharge papers. His body felt strange, not injured, exactly, but hollowed out from two days of forced inactivity.
The recovery draught had done its work. His ribs no longer ached when he breathed, his blistered palm had healed to smooth pink skin, and the stitches in his lip had dissolved overnight.
The nurse swept in with a tablet and the same no-nonsense expression she’d worn since his first visit. She ran through the standard checks and made a series of notes with quick, efficient taps.
"You’re cleared," she said. "But I meant what I said about the formal complaint. If you’re back here before the week is out, I’m filing it."
"I’ll do my best to avoid you."
"That’s what they all say." She handed him the discharge papers. "Your friend in the next bed woke up an hour ago. He’s been staring at the wall ever since."
Damon glanced toward the bed two spaces over. Matthew Voss was sitting upright, his back against the headboard, his bandaged chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths.
The mana-suppressing cuffs had been removed, but the steel sheen of his Shell hadn’t returned.
"He’s been asking about you," the nurse added.
"About me?"
"Specifically, he asked if you were still here. When I said yes, he stopped talking." She tucked her tablet under her arm. "I’ll leave you to it."
She left, and the infirmary fell quiet.
Damon stood. His legs were steady, his mana pool full, his system humming quietly at the edge of his awareness. He could have walked out the door, headed to the dining hall, found Sera, and started planning the expedition.
Instead, he walked toward Matthew’s bed.
Matthew didn’t look up as he approached. His eyes were fixed on the far wall, his jaw tight, his hands resting palms-up on the blanket. The burns on his arms had faded to pale pink scars.
"You’re still here," Matthew said. His voice was hoarse, stripped of its usual arrogance.
"Discharged this morning."
"Congratulations." The word dripped with something that might have been sarcasm or exhaustion. "You broke my skill. I’ve gotta wait a few days before I can return to steel without risking the remaining electricity scorching me."
"Remaining electricity?"
"Magical electricity lasts longer. And the nurse wanted to be careful."
Matthew sighed, clearly annoyed.
"You could have killed me, y’know? That last attack—" Matthew’s jaw tightened. "Why didn’t you?"
Damon considered the question. He could have said it was because of Cain’s rules. He could have said it was because Kara had asked him not to. He could have said it was because killing another student would have ended his career before it truly began.
All of those would have been true.
But none of them was the real reason.
Well, the last reason is a big part, but it wasn’t the main one.
"Because I didn’t want to," Damon said.
Matthew finally looked at him. His eyes were bloodshot, the skin around them bruised with exhaustion.
"That’s it? You didn’t want to?"
"You’re not worth killing, Matthew. You never were. You were just someone who needed to be beaten."
"I spent two years making your life hell," Matthew said quietly. "You could have returned the favor. No one would have blamed you, I think even some of the professors would consider it an accident."
"I’m not you."
"No." Matthew let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "No, you’re really not, that’s why I fucking hate you."
Damon turned to leave.
"Persival."
He stopped.
"For what it’s worth," Matthew said, not looking at him, "I don’t think you’re a nepo baby. Whatever that class of yours is, you earned it."
Damon didn’t answer. He walked out of the infirmary and didn’t look back.
***
The alchemy lab was empty when Damon arrived.
Lena’s workspace was exactly as he remembered it, organized chaos, bubbling flasks, handwritten notes pinned to every available surface.
A fresh batch of D-Rank recovery draughts sat cooling on a rack near the window, their pale green contents faintly luminous in the afternoon light.
But Lena wasn’t there.
Damon checked his communicator.
No messages.
He was about to leave when his eyes fell on a piece of paper pinned to the corkboard above her desk. The handwriting was Lena’s, neat, precise, and unmistakable.
Damon,
If you’re reading this, you’re out of the infirmary. Good. I’m in the C-Rank portal. The Verdant Expanse.
Don’t be mad, I know I’m an alchemist, but I know what I’m doing.
I’ve been watching you and Sera for days now. I know I’m not a fighter. But I also know that if I stay in this lab forever, I’ll never be anything more than the girl who makes your potions. And after seeing your progress, I wanted to try even harder as well.
I hired a guide in Verdant’s Edge, someone Professor Harlow recommended. A C-Rank Resonator with solo authorization named Rook. She’s expensive, but she knows the route. We’re heading toward Thornhaven along the main road. If you and Sera are coming, you’ll catch up to us before we reach the city.
If not... I’ll meet you there.
But if you want the biggest reason for this trip. The ingredients in Thornhaven are far cheaper, so that’s about it!
—Lena
P.S. I brought good potions. So don’t worry about me.
Damon read the letter twice.
His first reaction wasn’t anger. It was something closer to vertigo, the sudden, sickening lurch of a world tilting off its axis.
Lena had always been in the lab. Lena had always been the one waiting for him to come back. That was the constant. The one thing he could count on.
And now she was out there. In a portal. Where monsters were real, and death was permanent.
Lena wasn’t just his potion supplier. She wasn’t just the person who fussed over his injuries and told him not to die. She was the reason his system had unlocked in the first place.
The catalyst. The person who’d stayed by his hospital bed while his own father had been called away. The one who’d believed in him when believing in him made no logical sense.
Even if she was only trying to repay his kindness at first, the fact that she tried was enough for him.
If something happened to her out there, if a boar charged and her guide couldn’t stop it, if a pack of wolves caught them on the road, if she bled out in the forest before anyone could reach her—
The thought didn’t finish. He wouldn’t let it.
"Damn it, Lena. If only you’d waited a day, by then I could’ve upgraded my hybridization skill and gone through it with you."
"As for your guide... fuck, I just don’t trust her enough."
His communicator buzzed.
Sera: You out yet?
Damon: Yeah. Come to the alchemy lab. Now.
Sera: That sounds ominous.
Damon: Just get here.
Sera arrived five minutes later, still wearing her combat robes from the morning’s hunt. She took one look at Damon’s face, then at the letter in his hand, and her expression shifted from curiosity to concern.
"What happened?"
"Lena went into the C-Rank portal."
"She what?"
"She hired a guide. She’s heading toward the main city." He handed her the letter. "She said she’s done waiting."
Sera read quickly, her eyebrows climbing higher with each line. When she finished, she let out a low whistle.
"That’s either the bravest or the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard."
"Probably both."
"You’re not mad?"
Damon paused. The question deserved an honest answer.
"I’m not mad. I’m..." He searched for the right word. "Impressed. And worried, I know she has a guide, and I know how competent they can be... but she’s an alchemist. She’s never fought anything in her life."
"She survived a Banshee breach."
"By hiding behind a blast door." He ran a hand through his hair. "We need to move, now. If we leave within the hour, we can catch up to her before nightfall."
"I swear you have a hero complex." Sera was already pulling up her system screen, checking her inventory. "But got it, I’ve got enough mana potions for the trip. What about your gear?"
"I still have the expedition kit Lena prepared." He paused. "I’m ready."
"Y’know, I wish I had someone who worried about me the way you worry about her."
"You’re as strong as a gorilla. I don’t think anyone should be worried about you."
"Rude... I mean, you’re correct, but rude nonetheless." Sera grinned.
