I knew I could not waste time. This battle had made far too much noise, and someone would be here any second now. My fingers were still trembling as I pressed my palm against Elira's chest, the aftertaste of blood and smoke lingering at the back of my throat. My breathing felt shallow, uneven, as if my lungs had forgotten how to fully expand. If I said I was not nervous, I would be lying.

For the first time since arriving in this world, the thought of fleeing crept into my mind, quiet but persistent. My shoulders felt heavy, weighed down by everything that had just happened, and my heartbeat refused to slow, no matter how hard I tried to steady it.

I wondered if I had made the right choice at all. Perhaps I should have known it would never be this simple to steal the Qillin bones, that the original story was already splintering into a branch I did not recognize.

This story has deviated too far from the original branch. The tree has split so deeply that I can no longer see a path to mend it. And yet… why should I even try?

The realization settled deep in my chest, tight and cold. Yes, I am desperate for power. Yes, I am desperate for freedom. But more than ambition, more than pride, I am desperate to keep myself and those I care about alive and safe. Right now, that desperation pressed against my spine like a hand urging me forward, leaving no room for hesitation.

The initial treatment with {Healing Touch} brought no results. I felt it immediately, the resistance beneath my palm, the way her body refused to respond the way it should have. That was when I knew I had reached the limit of what gentle healing could do. It was time to use my new ability, {Body Scan}, something I had hoped never to rely on under circumstances like this. But wishing would not change reality. Not now.

I slipped one arm under her back and the other beneath her knees, pulling her carefully against my chest. Her body felt frighteningly light in my arms. With my vampiric strength, the weight itself was nothing, but the responsibility it carried made my grip tighten instinctively.

"Let's go, Beelzebub," I said quietly. "Keep watch for enemies while we move. We cannot afford to be detected. Not even once."

In that moment, the decision settled fully inside me. I would run. I would flee to a place where I felt safe enough to treat her properly. Panic clawed at the edges of my thoughts as possibilities stacked one after another. The impact when she struck the tree had been brutal. Her spine could be injured. There could be internal bleeding, damage I could not see or feel without proper examination.

Trying to operate on her here, in the middle of a battlefield soaked in lingering magic and blood, would be no different than throwing her life away.

I tightened my hold around her and moved, trusting my instincts and Beelzebub's eyes to guide us through the dark forest ahead.

The forest floor yielded beneath my steps, guiding my run instead of tripping me, as if it wanted me to reach safety with Elira still breathing in my arms. As I carried her, something inside my chest trembled. It was subtle, easy to dismiss, yet impossible to ignore once I felt it. A strange sensation crawled across my skin, the unmistakable feeling of being watched, so intense it sharpened every nerve in my body.

I slowed, then came to a full stop, my gaze sweeping the trees and shadows around us. There was nothing. No movement. No presence. Even Beelzebub showed no sign of alarm, his senses calm, unbothered by whatever had set mine off. That only unsettled me more.

Maybe I was imagining it. Or maybe it was not something external at all. The sensation felt deeper, closer, as if it had risen from inside me rather than from the forest. I considered the system for a fleeting moment, wondering if it was reacting to something I could not yet perceive, but there was no confirmation, no message, no warning.

It could have been the holy curse settling in.

I clenched my jaw and resumed moving, tightening my hold on Elira. Whatever it was, I did not have the luxury of stopping to figure it out now.

Quickly, I found a place where the darkness was thick enough to swallow sound itself. Here, the forest stood dense and unmoving, untouched by the chaos behind us. No clashing steel. No screams. Only a few distant explosions reached my ears, dull and far away, a reminder that the battle was still raging.

I lowered Elira carefully onto the forest floor. After removing my outer robes, I stood there for a brief moment, exposed in an outfit I would rather never be seen in. Shame flickered through me, sharp and unnecessary, but I pushed it aside.

"Sorry for this," I murmured, not entirely sure why the words escaped me.

There was no time for hesitation.

With a precise motion, my {Surgeon's Scalpel} moved, clean and efficient, slicing away her damaged clothing without harming her skin. I forced my thoughts into focus immediately, stripping the moment of anything but urgency, and activated {Body Scan}.

Her body revealed itself to me as if her skin had turned to clear glass.

Organs, vessels, nerves, all laid bare in perfect detail. With a thought, layers shifted. Skin faded. Muscle parted where I needed it to, granting me an unobstructed view of what lay beneath. I dug deeper, following pathways of stress and trauma, tracing the invisible damage that could not be seen from the outside.

There was no time for panic. I breathed out slowly, steadying myself as I prepared for whatever challenge her body might present. I was not afraid. I trusted my skills completely. No matter what I found, the surgery would succeed. Failure did not exist in my world.

The image before my eyes sharpened the instant the {Body Scan} finished synchronizing with my intent. Everything unfolded cleanly and obediently. Her body revealed itself like a perfectly mapped diagram, every system layered with precision, every function exposed without resistance. Skin turned translucent. Muscle parted where I wished it to. Bone faded into clean lines and measurements. Organs floated in calm suspension, each pulsing with its own rhythm.

Thoracic spine, T4 to T6. Microfractures along the vertebral bodies from blunt force transfer into the tree. One disc bulging inward, brushing close to the spinal cord but not breaching it.

Inflammation present... Swelling measurable. No severance. Acceptable. Muscle tearing across the upper back and left flank.

Blood pooling between layers, slow but persistent. Again, acceptable. Left lung bruised, partially collapsed from pressure. Rib fracture nearby, not punctured. Internal bleeding present but controlled.

Liver tear along the lower edge, shallow but leaking steadily. Nothing fatal. Nothing irreversible. Nothing outside my hands.

I catalogued the injuries in seconds, already arranging the order of correction. Spine first to prevent secondary damage. Internal bleeding next. Structural stabilization last. No emotion entered the process. This was not a moment for feelings. This was my domain.

I withdrew the {Anesthetic Shot} and administered it cleanly at the base of her neck. Her nervous system complied instantly, consciousness receding without resistance. Pain was no longer a variable.

Good.

My palm pressed lightly against her chest as {Blood Cleanse} activated. Her bloodstream responded like a trained instrument. Bacteria, contaminants, foreign particles erased before they could register as threats. Infection ceased to be a concept. Her blood became pristine, obedient, perfect for surgical manipulation.

{Surgeon's Scalpel} vibrated at a precise frequency that parted matter cleanly, without tearing or resistance.

My first incision followed a line that avoided nerves and vessels with microscopic precision. Skin opened cleanly. The muscle parted exactly where I directed it. Blood surfaced, and I stopped it instantly. I used {Blood Manipulation} to save a life this time. Flow slowed, then halted entirely, vessels held in suspension as if time itself paused for them.

I addressed the liver first. The tear was shallow. Repair was immediate. Tissue guided back into alignment, edges sealed, cellular cohesion restored without scarring. Bleeding ceased the moment I decided it would.

Next, the lung. Pressure relieved. Pooled blood drained. Bruised tissue reinforced until expansion returned to normal capacity. Her breathing stabilized instantly, smooth and controlled.

Then the spine.

I reduced inflammation with exact cold modulation, not freezing, not numbing, simply correcting excess response. The bulging disc was guided back into place with millimetric control, pressure lifted from the spinal cord without ever touching it.

Microfractures were reinforced internally, bone density layered and stabilized into a structure stronger than before. Not healed yet, that would come later, but functional, secure.

I closed the incisions with deliberate calm, restoring tissue seamlessly. Skin sealed without scarring. Muscle fibers reknit themselves as if they had never torn.

Surgery complete...

I withdrew my hands and stood smoothly, no tremor, no strain, my breathing even, my heart steady. This was not a miracle. This was my craft. I had done this countless times in my own world with worse tools, weaker bodies, and no magic to assist me. Here, with a system that answered my will and blood that bent to command, surgery became something closer to inevitability.

I looked down at Elira.

"Done," I said quietly. I adjusted her position carefully, ensuring her spine remained aligned, then covered her with my robe.

Now I had to decide whether to return to the battlefield and attempt to seize the Qillin bones, or abandon everything for Elira's sake.

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