"That wound was serious. Energy weapon, from the looks of it. Burned right through you. You’re lucky it missed anything vital, but you still lost a lot of blood."
"How long was I out?" Jorghan asked, his voice rough.
"About six hours. I found you this afternoon."
Grisha moved to a small table, pouring water from a pitcher into a cup.
"I ca by your place to see why you hadn’t shown up for work. You’re never late, never miss a day. So I figured sothing was wrong."
She helped him drink, supporting his head with surprising gentleness for soone so strong.
"I found your door broken in," Grisha continued, setting the cup aside.
"You were lying in a pool of blood on your floor. Damn near gave a heart attack. I carried you back here and patched up that shoulder as best I could. You’ll have a scar, but you’ll live."
"Thank you," Jorghan said sincerely.
Grisha had given him work when he first arrived in this city, asked no questions about his past, and treated him fairly. She was one of the few people here he considered sothing close to a friend.
"What happened?" Grisha asked, sitting back down.
"Who did this to you?"
Jorghan hesitated, trying to decide how much to tell her.
"Soone ca into the house. A man. He took soone who was under my protection and shot when I tried to stop him."
Grisha’s expression darkened. "Bandits? Raiders? We’ve had more of them lately, with the political situation being what it is."
"No," Jorghan said slowly.
"Not bandits. Soone from the nobility. Or working for them."
"The nobility?" Grisha’s eyes widened.
"Jorghan, what have you gotten yourself into? The nobles don’t play by the sa rules as the rest of us. They have power, connections, and private armies. If you’ve made an enemy of them—"
"I know," Jorghan interrupted.
He tried to sit up again, more carefully this ti.
His shoulder scread in protest, but he managed it, leaning back against the headboard.
"I know what I’m up against."
[Mana Print Status: Active]
[Target Location: Moving Northeast]
[Distance: 247 kiloters and increasing]
The system gave him the information without prompting.
Scarlett was being taken to sowhere, probably to the duke’s estate.
He had ti, but not much.
"I need to go," Jorghan said, starting to swing his legs out of bed.
"Are you insane?" Grisha stood up, blocking his path.
"You can barely sit up, let alone walk. That wound needs at least a week to heal properly. Whatever you’re planning, it can wait."
"It can’t," Jorghan said firmly.
"Every minute I wait, she gets further away. Deeper into their territory, more heavily guarded."
"She?" Grisha’s expression softened slightly.
"The person they took. Who is she to you?"
Jorghan paused.
What was Scarlett to him? His cousin, technically.
His uncle’s daughter.
But she didn’t know that.
She was innocent in all of this, a victim of circumstances created by people who saw her as a tool rather than a person.
"Soone who needs help," Jorghan finally said.
"Soone I promised to protect."
Grisha studied his face for a long mont, then sighed heavily. "You’re going after her no matter what I say, aren’t you?"
"Yes."
"Stubborn fool," Grisha muttered, but there was affection in her voice.
"At least let give you supplies. Food, dicine, money. You’ll need all of it if you’re going up against nobility."
"I can’t ask you to—"
"You’re not asking. I’m offering." Grisha moved to a cabinet, starting to gather items. "Besides, you are one of the attractions of my tavern. I’m protecting my asset."
Despite everything, Jorghan found himself smiling slightly. "Thank you, Grisha."
"Don’t thank yet," she said, turning back to look at him with serious eyes.
"I’ve lived in this empire for twenty years, Jorghan. I know how it works. The nobles, they think they own everything and everyone. If you’re going after this girl, you’re declaring war on that entire system. They won’t forgive that. They won’t forget."
"I know," Jorghan said quietly.
"But I can’t just leave her to that fate. I won’t."
Grisha nodded slowly, as if that answer satisfied her. "Then you’d better make sure you win. Because if you fail, they won’t just kill you. They’ll make an example of you that will be rembered for generations."
Jorghan touched his injured shoulder carefully, feeling the bandages Grisha had wrapped around it.
The pain was already starting to fade, his enhanced healing beginning to work despite the severity of the injury.
[Host Status Update]
[Malicious mana will be dispelled]
[Estimated Full Recovery: 36 hours]
"I won’t be able to co to work for a while," Jorghan said, looking at Grisha apologetically.
"I figured as much," Grisha replied, setting a pack filled with supplies on the bed beside him. "When you’re done with whatever crazy thing you’re planning, if you’re still alive, you co back here. Your job will be waiting. And maybe you can tell the whole story then."
"Maybe," Jorghan agreed.
As Grisha left the room to give him privacy to prepare, Jorghan closed his eyes and focused on the mana print. He could feel it, a thread of connection stretching across the distance to where Scarlett was being taken.
She was alive, at least.
That was sothing.
Jorghan opened his eyes, a cold determination settling over him.
-
The journey to Glasvoe took Jorghan a full day of hard travel. His shoulder still ached from the energy weapon wound, but his enhanced constitution was knitting the damaged tissue back together with remarkable speed.
The mana print guided him like an invisible thread pulled taut across the distance, leading him northeast through forests and farmlands, over hills, and across rivers.
He was flying towards the duchy of Glasvoe, his large wings spread on his back.
[Mana Print Status: Active]
[Target Location: Stationary]
[Distance: 2.3 kiloters]
[Location Identified: Glasvoe Duchy, Holy Empire Territory]
As Jorghan crested the final hill, the duchy of Glasvoe spread out before him like sothing from a fever dream—a strange marriage of old and new, of magic and technology, of tradition and progress.
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