Leon's plan was moving along smoothly.
The Treatment Center, in one of the wards.
Lydia kept her body and her face completely hidden, not letting so much as a sliver show, beneath that wide hooded cloak.
...
[Name]: Lydia Melaelsiorelu Chulz's Royal Cloak
[Origin]: Kingdom of Altena
[Type]: Equipment
[Effect]: Disrupts perception, conceals the figure (rendered visually as a blurred mosaic).
[Description]: A black hooded royal cloak inlaid with gilded patterns, worn only by those of royal blood.
...
Beneath this cloak's shroud, any gaze directed at Lydia could only catch a single outline draped in light and shadow as blurred as a mosaic.
In this state, the princess gave off an eerie, unfathomable air of mystery that made people hesitate to approach.
And under that wide cloak no one could truly see through...
Lydia wore a high-slit ceremonial gown of white trimmed with gold, the collar cut in a deep V, her long, straight legs sheathed in thin white thigh-high stockings, the hem stirring faintly in the currents of Magic swirling around her, the bare skin of her absolute territory flickering in and out of view.
Her ten fingers were laced together against her chest, her head bowed slightly, lips murmuring low in prayer. As her chanting drew toward its end, a soft glow with an almost sacred quality flowed out from all around her, wrapping her in a holy aura in the blink of an eye.
And yet, that priestess's vestment of the "Holy Princess," woven from pure white and gold, combined with her already striking figure, gave off a faint, alluring quality tangled with desire and seduction.
Pure and sensual all at once... innocence and temptation side by side.
She did nothing but stand there, and it was as if she silently stirred some buried impulse.
Faintly, there came the urge to conquer her, to possess her, to pin her down and ravage her without mercy, to make her sob and weep and beg, to torment her cruelly!
This quality Lydia was born with often stirred a single thought even in Leon:
The wish to stain that holiness with his own color, with his own hands. The wish to see her fall to corruption!
But sadly, this beauty belonged to one man alone. Just as now, with Lydia's whole body veiled beneath that wide, mosaic-blurred hooded cloak.
She was Leon's, and his alone!
『Chulz Bloodline』, activate!
『Goddess's Echo』, activate!
"...Chanting!"
Beneath the hood, Lydia's eyes drifted shut, her expression solemn as prayer. She parted her lips slowly, and the first verse came out like a sacred hymn:
「...Hear me,
the song of the holy covenant that flows through my blood.
I am Lydia Melaelsiorelu Chulz,
bearer of the goddess's tears, the crown of sovereignty, the mark of holy lineage.
This body may be mortal flesh,
yet within my soul dwells a seat of eternal radiance...
In the name of the holy princess,
let the slumbering 'Holy Resurrection' manifest here!
Silver dew falling from the heavens,
the first sprout breaking from the earth,
O pulse of life's very origin,
gather into a tide-song that heals all things.
Wounds, return to nothing;
pain, scatter into dust;
let the defiling curse
dissolve like smoke amid these holy ripples.
My prayer is the law...
'Revive,
reassemble the broken body in the light,
write the unfinished journey onward in this song.'」
...
The instant the final syllable fell...
A dazzling, sacred magic circle unfurled with a roar around Lydia, golden light washing over the entire ward like a rising tide, gently enfolding all the gravely wounded.
"...Holy Resurrection!"
...
『Holy Resurrection』:
· Highest-tier recovery Magic
· The stronger the Mind, the wider the range
· Capable of healing grave wounds (the worse the injury, the stronger the effect), continuous recovery, and purifying curses and other abnormal states
· Ultra-wide-area recovery Magic
...
"Aah...!"
One patient wrapped head to toe in bandages suddenly sat halfway up, eyes going wide as he let out a low cry:
"It... it tickles!"
"My wound is actually closing up?"
"The curse... the curse is being purified?"
"This feels incredible. It's like I'm soaking in a hot spring..."
"What... what kind of Magic is this?! It can even purify an 'Incurable Curse'?!"
Astonished murmurs spread through the ward. The wounded who had been at death's door watched their injuries close at a visible pace, color returning to their pale faces. The purple-black blotches the curses had left behind melted away in the golden glow like ice and snow.
The medical staff were already moving with practiced discipline.
"Quick! Bring every cursed patient from Room Three and Room Five over here!"
"Move fast! Treat as many as you can before the Magic wears off!"
The healers and apothecaries of the Dian Cecht Familia put their professionalism on perfect display.
They worked efficiently and meticulously, in pairs, swiftly leading away the newly healed and just as quickly bringing fresh gravely wounded patients into the magic circle's reach.
Margaret: "..."
Yes, Margaret was here too.
She stood quietly by the door, and no matter how chaotic the scene grew, her gaze stayed locked on Lydia the whole time.
She could see it clearly: the figure beneath the cloak had already begun to tremble faintly.
As a Mage herself, she knew all too well... that maintaining an ultra-wide-area Magic of this scale to heal so many people at once was no ordinary burden for Lydia, who was only Lv.1.
Sure enough, in just over ten minutes, Lydia's breathing had turned ragged, fine beads of sweat dotting her temples, even the legs holding her upright going weak.
"Lydia..."
Margaret stood off to the side, sick with worry.
But she was afraid of interrupting Lydia's treatment, so all she could do was bite her lower lip and fret alone.
"Quick, are there any more gravely wounded or cursed patients! While Miss Chulz's Magic is still up, hurry and carry them over!"
Time slipped quietly away in the flow of golden light.
A quarter hour...
Half an hour...
Thirty-five minutes...
"Ngh...!"
A stifled, muffled groan sounded, and Lydia's figure swayed, the magic circle flickering on and off with her.
"Now! Switch to the next batch..."
A healer had just called out when she saw that figure veiled in mosaic suddenly slump forward.
"Lydia!"
Margaret was already there in a single stride, catching her steadily in her arms before she hit the floor.
In Margaret's view alone, the wide cloak slipped a little, revealing Lydia's cheek, pale as paper, her eyes half-closed, her breath gossamer-thin, her whole body soaked through with cold sweat as though she had just been pulled out of the water.
The ward fell suddenly silent.
Every patient and every staff member stared blankly at the "mosaic" figure collapsed in Margaret's arms.
Only in this moment did they realize with a start: the one beneath that mysterious cloak, the one who had wrought a sacred miracle, was no tireless saint, but a girl who could exhaust herself and fall just the same.
"...Quick, prepare a recovery potion," an older healer was the first to come back to herself, though her voice was far gentler than before. "Let her rest. The remaining patients... we'll handle by the usual procedure."
Margaret quietly shook her head:
"No need to trouble yourselves. I've got it covered here."
As she spoke, she drew from her arms a potion housed in a lavish crystal vial... the very "Wild Mixture" Leon had so carefully packaged. Then, under everyone's watching eyes, she pulled the stopper and slowly tipped the iridescent orange elixir between Lydia's lips.
"Aah~~~~~~"
Lydia's eyes flew wide. A warm current surged from her throat to every limb, as though something had been abruptly lit inside her once-limp body. She stared blankly at Margaret, unable to find a single word.
And Margaret had already begun her performance.
"As expected of Leon's newest creation... the 'Wild Mixture' works instantly!"
Her voice rang clear, pitched just right so everyone around could hear.
"Lydia, do you feel that power surging up!?"
"This is the effect of the Wild Mixture, invigorating the spirit, and also...!"
Lydia: "...Mm, mhm..."
Before she could fully gather her words, Margaret, under the dumbfounded stares of the whole gawking crowd, scooped her up sideways into her arms without another word, turned on her heel with elegant grace, and with the clack-clack of her high-heeled boots, vanished around the corner of the corridor in an instant.
The crowd: "..."
The medical staff: "???"
...
...
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