A guard swallowed nervously, the sound loud in the heavy silence of the courtyard.“We understand, Princess,” he said carefully, eyes lowered.The princess exhaled slowly, shoulders sagging slightly as the tension in her posture eased. For the first time in minutes, she seemed to release the tight control she had been wielding like a blade.Then she turned her gaze toward Ethan.Her entire demeanor shifted again.The anger faded, leaving behind something softer—embarrassment, humility, and a quiet sincerity that made the previous fire seem almost distant.“I’m… really sorry,” she said again, her voice quieter this time, smoother, almost vulnerable.The contrast was startling. Moments ago she had radiated fury. Now her words were measured, her eyes softer, and there was a tremor of genuine regret in her tone.“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,” she continued, shaking her head slightly.Ethan tilted his head, giving a small, almost imperceptible shrug.“You didn’t know,” he said

Karpeta took a small step forward, placing herself slightly ahead of Ethan. “This man is no stranger to me,” she said. “He has saved a life today. He has proven himself.” The alchemist’s eyes narrowed even further, disbelief warring with suspicion. “Proven himself?” he repeated, his voice almost a growl now. “Do you understand what it means to bring an outsider into the inner sanctum? Into the presence of the demon alchemists? This is not some common courtyard fight, Princess! Here, even the smallest contamination can ruin an entire ritual or spell. The wrong presence could—” Karpeta cut him off sharply, her voice firm and resonant, leaving no room for argument. “He is someone I trust.” The alchemist shook his head slowly, his fingers flexing as if itching to gesture at the vials he had been handling. “Trust? Trust is not enough, Princess! Even the most skilled and well-intentioned mortal could upset delicate balances, destroy magical preparations, or interfere with the energies we

The senior demon alchemist’s eyes narrowed, the lines of his face deepening into a scowl as he took a deliberate step closer to Ethan. “This man,” he hissed, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the murmurs in the chamber, “this so-called savior of yours… what proof do you offer that he is anything more than a charlatan? A meddler pretending to possess skills beyond his comprehension?” Karpeta’s eyes flickered with irritation. She had expected some resistance, but the sheer audacity in the alchemist’s tone made her jaw tighten. “Charlatan?” she echoed, her voice rising slightly. “Do you even realize what you are implying?” “I do,” he said, crossing his arms, his stance firm and unyielding. “I see only a mortal who has stepped beyond his bounds, who has inserted himself into matters he cannot possibly understand. He has no right to be here, and I will not allow him to interfere with the delicate work of the demon alchemists!” Ethan remained calm, standing straight with

Karpeta noticed his calm demeanor and felt a renewed surge of respect. “See?” she said under her breath, loud enough for Malikar to hear. “This is what true competence looks like. Not empty posturing, not lectures, not arrogance. Actions.” Malikar flinched slightly at her words, but his pride would not allow him to back down entirely. “You… you cannot dismiss me so easily. I am the senior alchemist here! I am responsible for the safety of this chamber, for the rituals, for the wards that protect us all. And you—” “I am Princess Karpeta,” she said, her voice echoing in the chamber like steel striking stone. “I am responsible for the safety of my people, for the judgment of this palace, and for the life of my aunt. I have made my choice. If you cannot accept it, you may leave. But you will not dictate my actions here.” Malikar’s jaw tightened. He glanced at the other alchemists, as if to rally support, but their eyes avoided his, the whispers of uncertainty and awe still lingering

Malikar, his jaw clenched, watched with a mixture of anger and absolute amazement. “This… this is not possible,” he ground out, his voice barely audible. “How… how can a human touch her so… directly and command such power?” Karpeta, standing near the bed, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, watched intently. Her expression was a complex blend of awe and fierce protectiveness. “Focus, sir Ethan,” she said softly, her voice barely a breath, yet firm. “Please… bring her back fully.” Ethan’s hands moved with precision, guiding the currents of his energy. He sensed the fractured points in her life force, the places where the magical wards woven into her body had frayed, where her essence was indeed unraveling. He began to weave his own power alongside them, a golden tapestry mending the rent fabric of her being. Slowly, deliberately, her breathing deepened, became steadier. A faint flush of color returned to her lips, and her fingers, resting on the crimson si