Chương 27: 1st Recursion: Prologue Anew
As he was running, Halkias' mind was also hustling to find a justification to the news.
'Woke up? That's hardly possible. The lead sorcerer sent by the Obelisk stopped by earlier and informed me that there's no hope of reviving the members who had their hearts ripped out. On the other hand, Troy Vhelian Gertrude will be in a perpetual state of coma. What in the world is happening?'
Calm though he might have sounded in his thoughts, Halkias wanted to scream how bewildered he was. Miracles would surely be created out of the existence of Manna. However, Manna had its own limitations. As stated before, revival of a body together with its soul was a phenomenon that was still out of reach.
Halkias might not be aware of the extent of research that the Obelisk had done regarding resurrection. But he was sentient that no institution, or nobody at all for that matter, was capable of that feat yet. At least not within the Etheros Empire.
Why was he that assured?
Well, the Etheros Empire proclaimed that every single sorcerer who's skilled in healing was entitled to the Empire's protection. Not to mention, they would receive a peerage -- meaning a noble title and a land.
No matter how greedless one could be, someway or another, they would yield to the calls of the Empire. The sense of duty and the glory of helping the Empire's forces win myriads of battles were more than enough as temptations.
The void of honour would surely consume them from the inside.
As he rounded the last corner, Halkias could hear the appalled gasps of a few hospital staff. Another wave of irritation came over him.
"Didn't I tell you to keep this matter exclusive to three people?!" He shouted, startling the onlookers.
He went straight for the room, not minding whether he bumped into people or not. What mattered to him the most was to quell his curiosities.
"Good heavens… What am I seeing?" He muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing on the person of the hour.
Seated on the bed farthest from the door was a woman.
The snowlike hue of her hair -- cascading down her naked shoulders delicately -- glistened like the surface of a lake under the strong rays of the sun. Her white eyelashes -- casting shadows over her cheeks -- was ephemeral, as if she was going to evanesce into the morning sky.
Her pure-black eyes trembled. And soon, she was staring back at Herkel.
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