The air filled with arcane murmurs as the medical witches raised their green orbs in unison. The light emanating from them wasn't just healing—it was discipline, a silent oath that no weakness of the prince would be left exposed. The ground lit up in geometric patterns, and the energy spread like living roots through the space around Kael.

The division chief took two steps forward. Her silver cape trailed in the dust and blood, but she didn't seem to care. When she finally approached him, her midnight-black eyes softened for a brief moment.

"With your permission..." she said, her voice low but firm.

Kael inclined his head lazily, as if her gesture were more ritual than necessity.

"Do it quickly." Her voice was thick with impatience. "I'm still waiting to feel back what was stolen from me."

The woman raised her right hand, and the space around them seemed to hold its breath. Her fingertips began to radiate a pure white light, so strong it made the shadows in the destroyed arena recede. The medicine witches, in response, adjusted their chanting, creating a perfect harmony between their energies.

Kael's body shivered as the magic touched his chest. It was as if needles of fire pierced his skin and found the invisible scars where his connection to mana had been severed. He bit the inside of his mouth until he tasted the metallic taste of blood, but he didn't take his gaze from the woman before him.

"It's embedded deep..." the chief murmured, frowning. "This spell was woven to root itself in the essence. It's not something you simply cut."

Kael laughed, though the sound was hoarse, broken.

"Hah... then try to rip it out by the roots. I'm not made for the mediocrity of living without mana."

The pressure increased. The ground around her trembled as the purification magic invaded every corner of her body, attempting to dissolve the invisible barrier Linea had imposed. Linea herself, still restrained by the translucent chains and the magical serpent, writhed as she felt her work shatter. Her eyes screamed louder than any muffled sound: terror and helplessness.

The division chief cast a quick glance at her, then turned back to Kael.

"It's going to hurt," she warned.

"Then make it hurt," he replied, smiling with the same ferocity he'd shown during the fight.

The explosion of light that followed was like silent thunder. The runic symbols on the ground glowed almost blindingly. Kael's body arched violently, the chains attached to his wrists clanging like distorted bells. A wave of energy coursed through him, tearing, burning, and rebuilding all at once.

And then the moment came: he felt it.

A spark.

Then, a whole river.

The mana rushed again, no longer a distant whisper, but like a torrent released from a dam. His aura erupted with such force that it made the witches' circle instinctively recoil, like leaves before a gust.

Kael took a deep breath, smoke escaping his lips as if he'd inhaled fire. His eyes glowed intense red for a second, his very essence reacting to the return of something that should never have been ripped away.

He rose. Not just with his body, but with his presence. The shattered arena seemed too small to contain the weight of his aura.

"Finally..." he murmured, raising his hand and watching the flow of mana shimmer between his fingers. "It's like breathing again after drowning."

The division chief took a step back, her posture rigid, but it was impossible to hide the relief in her eyes.

"Your connection has been restored, my prince. But I recommend you don't push the limits now. The rupture spell left scars that could react if pressed too soon."

Kael flicked his wrist, and a flare of black mana formed there, like a living flame consuming the air around it. He closed his fist, extinguishing it.

"Recommendations..." he said sarcastically, looking up at the sky opened through the crack in the ceiling. "I didn't survive this far by living on recommendations."

He turned slowly to face Linea, who was panting in despair. Her eyes now trembled as she realized all her work had been undone in a matter of minutes.

Kael smiled cruelly.

"And you..." he said, his voice thick with newly recovered energy. "You must be wondering how you're still alive."

The division chief tilted her head, awaiting orders.

"Take her," Kael ordered, his gesture almost casual. — I want her pain to become wisdom. And may that wisdom never be used against me again.

The mana chains tightened even more around Linea, who tried to scream through the translucent serpent, but nothing but a choked sound escaped.

Kael sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. The weight of the returning mana still burned, but with it came an unmistakable pleasure: the feeling of completeness.

He opened his eyes again, staring at the division chief.

"Now... tell me." His voice was cold, sharp. "How many more dared to raise a hand against me?"

She took a deep breath before answering, her tone solemn.

"More than we expected, my prince. The attack was not just an isolated attempt. It is a net. And we need you with us to crush it."

Kael smiled again, and that smile held nothing human.

"Then let the hunt begin."

The air suddenly vibrated, as if the destroyed arena itself had held its breath. The ground shook slightly, and the runes that still glowed at the edges of the circle writhed, reacting to a different energy, older, more precise.

Kael, his body still scarred from purification, lifted his face and closed his eyes for a moment. He knew that presence.

A slit of light, thin as a blade's edge, sliced through the space to the right. The slit widened like a fissure, and from it emerged a figure shrouded in silver shadows and polished steel.

Exelia.

Her battle armor gleamed in the shifting light of the arena, each plate engraved with inscriptions that pulsed gently, as if mana itself had been etched into the metal. The rapier at her waist was unsheathed; it gleamed sharp, the blade as thin as a moonbeam, ready to kill.

Kael let out a dry laugh, tilting his head to the side as he watched her emerge from the portal.

"I see you're late, Exelia." Her voice held irony, but also a certain hidden relief. "You didn't even witness the battle."

Exelia took two firm steps forward, the sound of metal echoing across the cracked ground. The wind conjured by the portal still ruffled her dark hair, tied in braids reinforced for war.

She smiled, but it wasn't a sweet smile. It was sharp, cold, as lethal as the rapier resting in her hand.

"I had much to do, my prince," she replied, her voice calm, but filled with that unflappable confidence that made everyone around her straighten. "But if the fight was truly worth it, I imagine you had fun without me."

Kael let out a short, dry laugh, spitting a bit of blood to the side. His eyes, still glowing from the returning mana, raked her up and down, as if assessing not only an ally, but also a symbol of power.

"Amused?" he repeated, lifting one of the broken chains that still hung from his wrists. "She had fun. They ripped my mana from me, tried to suffocate me in their own emptiness. That insect managed to push me to the limit."

Exelia arched an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly, the glint of her rapier reflecting the light of the runes.

"So it wasn't just an insect," she said teasingly. "If it's still breathing, it's because it wasn't alone."

The witches behind her remained completely silent, knowing that between these two there was no room for interruption. The weight of the destroyed arena, the smell of blood, and the echo of magical energy hung between them like a storm about to break.

Kael approached her, dragging the metallic sound of the chain against the ground. His laughter turned into a dangerous smile.

"If you had arrived sooner, perhaps you would have had the chance to cross swords with her." He cast a quick glance at Linea, still kneeling and restrained, her face streaked with hatred and tears. "Now, you'll only be able to watch her serve as a guinea pig."

Exelia glanced in the same direction, her eyes hardening as she stared at the prisoner. The smile on her lips narrowed but didn't disappear.

"I have no interest in fighting a chained bitch," she replied firmly. "I prefer to keep her as a reminder that when I'm late, there will always be someone to make up for lost time."

Kael lifted his chin, chuckling once more.

"Always so arrogant, Exelia," he said, his deep voice reverberating in the open space. "But that's why I continue to allow you to be by my side."

Her gaze didn't waver, not even in the face of the prince's fiery intensity.

"And that's why I keep returning, my lord." "No," she replied, bowing just enough so her bow wouldn't be mistaken for submission. "There will always be work to be done, and there will always be enemies to hunt."

Kael licked his bloodied lips, and for a moment, silence fell between them, filled with electricity.

Then, with a sudden gesture, he opened his arms, as if embracing the chaos around him.

"Good." His voice echoed like thunder.