After Svane left to get help Ray turned back to the suite, now thick with a tension that choked the air. Kaelen lay unnervingly still on the couch in the study, her breathing shallow. Rina paced the length of the study’s woolen rug, her footsteps usually silent now a staccato rhythm of barely contained panic. She kept glancing towards the main door, then back at Kaelen, her hands twisting the fabric of her apron.

“He should be back by now, shouldn’t he?”

Rina whispered, her voice tight.

“The infirmary isn’t that far.” Her panic was a palpable thing, threatening to spiral.

Ray sat perfectly still in a chair pulled close to the couch, his focus entirely on Kaelen. He forced himself to ignore Rina’s rising panic, letting the quiet, steady presence of the World-Weary Healer settle over his thoughts in Ambient Presence. He reached out, his small fingers gently resting on Kaelen’s wrist, feeling the rapid, thready pulse beneath her cool skin.

Healer: “Pulse remains rapid but steady for now. Respiration shallow, indicative of neurotoxic effect on autonomic functions. Cyanosis around the lips appears slightly more pronounced than initial assessment. Toxin is progressing, albeit slowly due to the pressure point intervention.”

Seeing Rina’s distress escalating, Ray knew he had to intervene before her fear became another casualty. He turned his head, meeting her wide, panicked eyes. He let the World-Weary Healer’s Calming Presence skill bleed into his own aura, projecting a wave of quiet, steady reassurance.

“Rina,”

he said softly, his voice imbued with the Healer’s gentle authority.

“Breathe. Sergeant Svane is a Silver Aegis. He will not fail. Panicking now helps no one, least of all her.”

His calm, steady tone, combined with the subtle magic, seemed to reach her. Rina stopped pacing, took a deep, shuddering breath, and nodded, though the fear didn’t entirely leave her eyes. She pulled a stool closer, her gaze fixed on Kaelen’s still form, her worry now channeled into a silent, watchful vigil.

Ray returned his attention to Kaelen, his mind once again a cool, clinical instrument. He gently checked the pressure points he had applied earlier, noting the slight bruising but maintaining the necessary constriction. The wait was agonizing, each tick of the unseen clock a step closer to irreversible damage if help didn’t arrive soon.

Minutes stretched into an eternity, marked only by the shallow rise and fall of Kaelen’s chest. Ray watched intently, his gaze sharp and clinical. He noticed the faint, almost imperceptible deepening of the bluish tint around her lips, a subtle but undeniable sign the toxin was still insidiously working its way through her system. Her breaths, though steady, seemed even shallower than before.

Healer: “Autonomic suppression continues. Respiratory function is slightly more compromised. Vitals remain stable within critical parameters due to initial intervention, but the trajectory is negative. We are losing ground, albeit slowly.”

Ray pushed down the cold knot of fear tightening in his own stomach. He turned to Rina, his voice maintaining its calm, steady tone.

“Rina, replace the compress on her forehead, please. And gently lift her head just slightly, use that smaller cushion. Ensure her airway remains completely clear.”

Rina nodded, her earlier panic now channeled into focused, efficient action. She moved with quiet competence, her hands surprisingly steady as she followed Ray’s precise instructions. Ray watched, appreciating her composure, but the feeling of helplessness gnawed at him. He had knowledge gleaned from countless roles, access to potent archetypes, and a body reforged by impossible magic, yet against this insidious poison, he was reduced to basic supportive care. He could slow the inevitable, but he couldn’t stop it.

The silence in the room deepened, broken only by Kaelen’s quiet breaths and the distant, muffled sounds of the academy settling into its nighttime quiet. Every second felt like an hour. Ray strained his ears, listening for a sound of hurried footsteps in the corridor, for the arrival of Sergeant Svane and the experts who held the true key to Kaelen’s survival. The waiting was a unique form of torture, a slow burn of anxiety fueled by the knowledge that a life hung precariously in the balance, utterly dependent on help that felt an agonizing world away.

A soft, weak moan escaped Kaelen’s lips, a sound barely louder than a breath. Her eyelids fluttered, a fragile movement against the pale canvas of her skin.

Ray reacted instantly, his own anxieties momentarily forgotten. He gently took her cool hand in his, his small fingers closing around hers. He focused his will, letting the World-Weary Healer’s Calming Presence skill flow through him, a subtle wave of soothing energy directed at the fragile consciousness stirring before him.

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“Kaelen, can you hear me?”

he asked softly, his voice imbued with the Healer’s gentle reassurance.

“You’re safe now. You’re in my suite in the Spire of Sages.”

Rina, who had been watching Kaelen with anxious intensity, let out a small, hopeful gasp, her hand flying to her mouth as she leaned closer.

Kaelen’s eyes snapped open, but they held no recognition, only raw, animal terror. Her pupils were dilated, darting wildly around the unfamiliar room as if searching for an imminent threat, a predator lurking just beyond the lamplight. A low whimper escaped her lips, and she tried weakly to pull her hand from Ray’s grasp, her body tensing despite its profound weakness.

Ray held her hand gently but firmly, a small, steady anchor in her sea of panic. He continued speaking in the Healer’s calm, even tone, projecting reassurance not just with his words but with his very presence.

“Easy, Kaelen. You’re safe here. No one can harm you. Sergeant Svane has gone for the academy healers. Rina is right here beside me.”

He nodded slightly towards Rina, who stood nearby, her own fear momentarily forgotten, replaced by deep, compassionate worry.

He watched Kaelen closely, noting the subtle shifts as his words and the Healer’s calming influence slowly pierced through her terror. The frantic darting of her eyes began to slow. Her breathing, which had become rapid and shallow, hitched, then gradually deepened, becoming a little less ragged. Her gaze flickered towards Rina, then back to Ray, holding focus for a brief, lucid moment. The frantic energy in her body lessened, the weak struggle against his grip ceasing as she seemed to finally, truly register her surroundings, the quiet room, the concerned faces, the absence of immediate danger. The grip of fear hadn’t released her entirely, but its hold was loosening, replaced by a dawning, fragile awareness.

Kaelen blinked slowly, her gaze still hazy but now holding a flicker of recognition as she focused on Ray’s face. She tried to swallow, her throat clearly dry.

“How…?”

she managed, her voice barely a rough whisper, hoarse and strained.

“How did I end up here?”

Ray leaned slightly closer, keeping his voice soft and even.

“Rina and Sergeant Svane found you collapsed just outside, along the main path to the suite,”

he explained calmly.

“They carried you here.”

He paused, letting her absorb the information before delivering the next, more difficult piece. He watched her carefully, his expression gentle but direct.

“Kaelen, you were attacked. You’ve been poisoned.”

Healer: “Pupillary constriction noted upon auditory stimulus regarding ‘poison.’ A classic physiological fear response.”

Conman: “Yep, saw that too doc. That ain’t just physical shock, that’s pure, unadulterated terror. She knows exactly how bad that word is.”

The information landed, and even through her weakness, Ray saw the immediate, sharp reaction, a subtle tightening around her eyes, the brief, involuntary shrinking of her pupils that the Healer noted, and the wave of raw fear the Charismatic Conman identified beneath her weakened state.

Kaelen lay still for a long moment, absorbing the grim diagnosis. The initial wave of fear seemed to recede, replaced by a flicker of focused determination. As Ray looked at Kaelen’s determined expression and thought that this is the Kaelen he had seen on the training grounds.

Kaelen took a slow, slightly ragged breath, gathering her strength.

“It was… Drennan,”

she began, her voice still hoarse but gaining a measure of strength.

“From my Transmutation Theory class. He’s… well, he was one of the students who didn’t treat me like the ‘merchant’s daughter’.”

A faint, bitter smile touched her lips.

“He came to my room this afternoon, he said he had a question about the latest lecture notes of our class yesterday.”

She described the scene with meticulous detail, setting a stage of mundane normalcy, the knock on the door, the casual greeting, the moment she turned her back to fetch some tea.

“Then… I felt a sharp prick in my side,”

she continued, her eyes clouding with the memory.

“Not deep, more like a graze. But there was a sudden weakness, a coldness spreading…”

Her hand instinctively went to her side, though there was no visible wound through her robes.

“I turned, and he was lunging again, not with a stylus, but with a dagger. Poisoned, clearly.”

Fear flashed in her eyes again.

“I reacted… managed to deflect the worst of it. Then I ran.”

She described the frantic chase through the Arcanum college corridors, her initial confusion warring with the instinct to survive.

“But his movements… they were different,”

she said, her brow furrowing in remembered disbelief.

“Drennan is clumsy, all sharp angles and wasted energy. This… this was different. Silent. Fluid. Every step is precise, like flowing water… or a shadow. He stayed right behind me, no matter how I twisted or turned. It wasn’t Drennan chasing me.”

Detective: “Silent, fluid, efficient. Matches the description of K’s movement from the alley encounter perfectly. He didn’t just borrow Rina’s face; he can mimic others.”

Assassin: “Not mimicry. A fundamental mastery of movement. A professional.”

“I realized I couldn’t outrun him,”

Kaelen admitted, her voice dropping.

“The poison… It was making me slow, clumsy. I reached the West Quad, near the old statuary garden. I had no choice. I used my ‘Amulet of Ephemeral Binding’.”

Her hand went to a thin silver chain around her wrist, now empty.

“A family heirloom. One use only. It creates a localized temporal snare.”

She described activating the treasure, the burst of light, and seeing her pursuer freeze mid-stride, caught in a shimmering field, before she stumbled away, using the last of her strength to reach the main paths, hoping someone would find her.

“It was only then,”

she whispered, her gaze meeting Ray’s, filled with dawning horror,

“that I knew. The movements, the silence, the efficiency… It wasn’t Drennan at all. It had to be him. It had to be K.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep