Grum'Thal gazed one last ti at the joyful celebration outside. Then, he turned. A steely glint entered his eyes as he stomped his way to the door.
Adam heard his solemn command to the warriors. "Stealthily warn Grakka and gather a squad. No matter what you feel, no matter what you hear, no one is to step into the War Council. Barricade the fortress. Tell her to take Adam away before the other warriors catch him if anything were to happen to ."
"But—"
A guard tried to contest, only to be shut down by Grum'Thal's resigned voice. The shamanic tone was gone. It echoed in the corridor more like a father's plea asking for their children's understanding than a command. "Rember, don't let even Grakka enter."
Adam saw the guards give slow, solemn nods before Grum'Thal closed the door. Two rushed sets of footsteps drumd outside.
Then, deadly silence, only broken by Grum'Thal's march toward the table.
He sat with a firm nod directed at Adam and Lulu. "What do you need?"
Adam almost choked out his answer. His already tight chest constricted impossibly. Take him out. Honor. The great shaman's guiding light illuminated his path even as it reached its sunset. He wouldn't let it be extinguished on his watch. "Cores. The best ones, preferably from plant creatures or filled with life force. I'll need sothing to write as well. Mystical blood or sap should do."
Broken chains clinked as Grum'Thal unstrapped the pouch at his belt. He emptied it beside him.
Though not many items knocked on the table through the leather covering it, they made Adam's eyes widen. Ancient blood shimred in their cloudy vials, while the mana contained within bones, claws, and fangs twisted the air around them. Six beast cores silently rolled in their midst, each radiating what remained of a magus-ranked energy.
In silent wonder, he reached out, his fingers first weighing a claw larger than his palm, then finding the vial. When he uncorked it, the potent scent of iron blended with a thick fragrance of chlorophyll. The cores felt warm when he brushed them with his thumb. Warm and vibrant.
He began to imagine from which beast they had been extracted, but cleared his head with a self-reproachful shake.
"Lie down until I'm done with the preparations. Lulu, help draw the symbols." His gaze drifted to his shoulder, where Bao sat obediently. He stroked her fur gently. "You're a good girl, Bao. I'm going to do sothing really, really hard. So, I need you to stay quiet and not move. Do you understand?"
Although her eyes were still locked on Lulu's small fra, Bao nodded.
Ti to begin.
Adam dyed the tip of the claw crimson with blood like a ritualistic quill. Lulu ran simulations as he drew the symbols he had imagined, repairing their forms or optimising their sequences.
Soon, an array that shouldn't exist took form. Magical curves and geotrical qi patterns blended in a hexagon around Grum'Thal. Yin and yang cut it into two parts, while elents suppressed and birthed one another along its edges. Adam didn't even spare the leather tablecloth or the orc flesh, covering them in smaller symbols connected to the larger ones. At each side of the hexagon, he dug out the floor, then used bones and fangs to create sockets for the cores.
Once done, he wiped the budding sweat from his forehead and nodded. He had imbued his understanding, his essence, his desperate goal to cure Grum'Thal into each symbol to the point of hurting his palms.
After reviewing his work three tis with Lulu, he finally stood in a circle in front of Grum'Thal. Half of it was filled with lively sunrays, while the other displayed the cold shine of the moon. The orc half-sat, his jaw open. "What in the ancestors' na is this aberration?"
"The short answer is a transmutation circle and a cultivator array that'll keep you alive during the operation. If you want the longer one, it'll help bypass the contamination to transmute your organs into components, while the nodes sustain your vitals with life force. I'll extract the demonic energy one piece at a ti, then rebuild each part by harmonising the ssy, half-devoured mass of elents within you."
He patted Grum'Thal's shoulder, his face determined, his heart racing. "It'll be painful, friend."
"Pain's an older friend." Grum'Thal sighed, his eyes clouded with mories of past torture.
"Not this one." He pressed Grum'Thal against the table. "Endure it. Please... Don't die on ."
Adam's lips twitched as he activated his array without giving the great shaman ti to answer. He had said everything. Now, only the impossibly low two percent chance of successfully curing him remained.
Lightning tore upward from the six nodes. Qi and mana flared, illuminating the symbols to incandescent white of nascent stars. The Council throbbed at the pulse of the elents, of balance, like a heart pumping power into Grum'Thal.
Adam gripped the shaman's feet. The green flas suppressed within the scars seed to glare at him, to dare him to try. He pursed his lips in defiance.
He did with a roar.
"Brace for the pain!"
Qi and mana poured into Grum'Thal. Like earlier, his demonic energy silently slithered to devour it. Not this ti.
With a thought, he controlled the flooding energy from the array with his own. He sent it collapsing on the shaman's feet. Despite the brutality, he moved it with the precision of a jeweller when he separated corrupted tissues and cartilage from bones. Then, he ground everything into components from which he isolated the corruption. Finally, he used the purified components to rebuild cells one at a ti, flawlessly, pure—cured.
The demonic energy pushed back, but the core producing it was far up in the chest. Adam knew it. It was not just a cure. It was a race. It was war. In which he had to free territories conquered by the insidious invader before it could send reinforcents.
Grum'Thal grunted through his tightly pressed lips. Adam ignored him. He knew exactly how it felt. Or rather, it was so insane that he could only picture it as the worst torture to ever exist. Like being skinned from the inside.
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AN: I hope you'll enjoy the treatnt chapters. I dedicate them to my cousin, who died from leukaemia at the age of eleven. May he rest in peace.
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