Jonah stared at the data slate, the blurry image of the Thorned Horror burned into his mind. He felt the weight of it, the unseen consequences of a battle won in the shadows. A province was suffering because the nation’s attention had been focused elsewhere.

“I have to do something,” he said.

Vanessa looked up from her own analysis of the blight’s energy signature. “This isn’t a military problem, Jonah. Seraph said it herself. You can’t just fight a plague.”

“Exactly,” he replied, a spark of an idea igniting in his eyes. “So we won’t fight it. We’ll heal it.” He closed the report with a decisive snap. “I’m going to see the Headmaster.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________

The Headmaster’s office felt less like a den of power. It felt more like the headquarters of a grand chess master. Jonah stood before the massive desk. He did not show the respect of a student. Instead, he stood with the focused calm of an asset making his case.

He laid his proposal out, clear and simple. “I want to lead a team to the Veridian Province.”

The Headmaster raised a skeptical eyebrow. “A team? This is not a combat assignment, Jonah. Sending a Rank Three Elite is already overkill.”

“It won’t be a combat team,” Jonah countered, his confidence growing. “It will be a scientific expedition. A restorative one.”

He leaned forward slightly, his passion for the idea coloring his words. “The Church branded me a Saint for healing the Withered Scar. The Academy has me listed as… well, whatever it is you have me listed as. But we both know my true power isn’t just about creating weapons. It’s about understanding life.”

He tapped the folder for his newly approved research grant. “Let this be the first official act of the Department of Sacred Beast Studies. Not a mission to kill, but a mission to understand and reverse the Flora Blight.”

The Headmaster was silent, his eyes boring into Jonah. A slow smile spread across his lips. He wasn’t just seeing a student with a noble idea. He saw the propaganda, the political checkmate.

The Bureau’s greatest failure, the Chimeras, had been solved by the Academy. The Church’s greatest failure, the Withered Scar, had been solved by the Academy. Now, a new crisis was unfolding, one that fell outside the boxes of military force or holy purging. If Jonah’s team of scientists could solve it…

“A humanitarian effort, led by the Living Saint,” the Headmaster mused aloud. “A demonstration that the Academy not only holds the nation’s sharpest sword, but also its most capable healers. The public relations value would be… powerful.”

He put his hands together, his choice made. “Very well. Your proposal is approved. You have full authority to assemble your team. Choose wisely. The success of this venture will rest entirely on your shoulders.”

***

Jonah’s first stop was a short one. He walked back into his workshop, where Vanessa was already packing a field-ready runic analysis kit. She didn’t even look up.

“He said yes, didn’t he?” she asked.

Jonah grinned. “He practically saw parade floats and newspaper headlines in his eyes. You’re in?”

She finally looked at him, rolling her eyes with a fond smile. “You need someone to analyze the blight’s magical structure, identify its weaknesses, and probably keep you from getting eaten by a grumpy, mutated flower. Of course I’m in. Who’s next?”

_________________________________________________________________________________________

They found their second member in the Academy’s Grand Conservatory, a massive glass dome filled with plants from every corner of the nation. Lira was a senior Druid, a quiet girl with long, dark hair and eyes the color of fresh moss. She was kneeling by a bed of glowing moon-orchids, her hand resting gently on a leaf, a look of serene concentration on her face.

“Lira?” Jonah said softly, not wanting to startle her.

She turned, her movements slow and graceful. She recognized him instantly, and a hint of awe crossed her face before settling back into a calm curiosity. “Saint Jonah.”

“Just Jonah, please,” he said with a small, embarrassed smile. He explained the situation in the Veridian Province, showing her the images of the twisted flora.

As Lira looked at the pictures, a deep sadness filled her eyes. “The life-song…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s a scream.” She looked up at him, her demeanor hardening with resolve. “These plants are in pain. They are being forced into something they were never meant to be. I will help them.”

It was that simple. No questions about danger or payment. She just saw a part of the world that was hurting, and she wanted to make it right.

***

Their final recruit was harder to find. And much, much louder.

Master Fen, the legendary but long retired Alchemy professor, had a private lab in the Academy’s oldest, most dungeon-like sub-level. They found him amidst a chaotic wonderland of bubbling beakers, scorch marks, and shelves overflowing with bizarre ingredients. He was an old man with a messy, white hair that stood straight up, like he’d just been electrocuted.

BOOM!

A green puff of smoke erupted from a vial he was holding.

“Bah!” he yelled, waving the smoke away. “Useless! This new batch of Griffin feathers has no potency! In my day, the feathers had some real kick!” He slammed the vial down and finally noticed them standing in his doorway.

“What do you want?” he grumbled, wiping a stained hand on his lab coat. “Can’t you see I’m busy revolutionizing potion-craft? Or at least trying to.”

Jonah stepped forward, holding up a sample container with a small piece of the blighted vine. “Master Fen, we need your help. We’ve found a magically engineered, self-propagating biological weapon.”

Fen froze. He snatched the container from Jonah’s hand. His grumpy mood disappeared, replaced by a strong curiosity. He held it up to a glowing crystal, his eyes narrowing.

“Engineered?” he muttered, sniffing the container. “Perfectly structured spores… a mutagenic agent bound by a recurring runic signature… This isn’t just a weapon, boy. This is art! Twisted, evil art, but art nonetheless!”

His eyes gleamed with an alchemist’s fire. “Who made this? I must meet them! And then I must thoroughly dismantle their life’s work to prove my own superiority!”

Jonah smiled. “Then you’ll come?”

Master Fen snorted, grabbing a big leather bag. “Of course, I’ll come! It’s so boring with students who don’t know basic plants. A perfect sickness! This is the most interesting thing in ages!”

He hurried past them, leaving strange-smelling smoke behind him. “Well? Are you coming or will you just stand there all day? We have a world to save! Or at least, a very interesting puzzle to figure out!”

Jonah and Vanessa exchanged a look, a mixture of amusement and slight terror.

This was their team. Not a unit of soldiers, but a fellowship of specialists: the Weaver, the Runic Engineer, the Druid, and the Alchemist. A team built not to destroy, but to understand. And to heal.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep