She moved to the right, where Theo lay on the bed, his body now in no better condition than Emil's. Taking a deep breath, she awakened the deep indigo aura that surged around her, wrapping him within its glow.
This aura belonged to an Order 4 Echo, an extraordinary rarity in the world. Wherever such individuals walked in public, they commanded attention, drawing countless eyes with their mere presence.
As the indigo radiance pulsed, Theo's wounds began to mend before her very eyes. The bruises and gashes littering his body faded one by one, disappearing as if they had never existed.
Then she turned to Emil, lying to her left. As she placed her hand on his body and channeled her aura to heal him, she noticed something strange, her energy vanished the moment it entered his flesh.
Alabaster brows knitted above her veil. Impossible. Jaw tightening, she pressed glowing palms to his chest once more, focusing her aura into him, but just like before, it disappeared without a trace.
A smile sharp as a scalpel curved beneath her veil."Well now," she murmured, fingertips lingering on Emil's pulse point"This trip to the Southern Continent was truly worth it,"
The young girl standing beside slightly raised her soft, delicate eyebrows. She had been observing everything with her warm hazel eyes, confusion flickering within them.
"My lady, how was our journey worth it? I don't understand, we still haven't found the next Sovereign," she said.
The veiled figure remained silent, her words had never been meant for reply. Without pause, she turned back to Emil, indigo tendrils snaking from her palms into his battered frame
And Emil, he absorbed it like a starving beast, ravenous after years of deprivation.
After some time, Theo's eyes fluttered open. Instinctively, he tried to push himself upright, but before he could, a gentle voice whispered in his ear,
"Don't. Your injuries haven't healed properly yet."
Turning his head to the right, he saw a veiled woman. Though the veil obscured part of her face, her features remained visible enough for him to take in and they were the most breathtaking he had ever seen.
From the elegant arch of her eyebrows to the perfect symmetry of her nose, lips, and hair, every detail was sculpted with such precision that words felt inadequate to describe her beauty. It was as if any attempt to capture her allure would only fall short of reality.
"Did I die?" Theo asked, his voice uncertain. The unbearable pain from before had dulled to something manageable, and now, in front of him, stood a woman so beautiful that calling her an angel wouldn't have been an exaggeration. These two impossibilities, his sudden relief from agony and her ethereal presence, made him question reality itself.
Before the veiled woman could respond, the young girl beside her, sensing the room's oppressive tension, attempted levity. Wiping away an imaginary tear, unable to resist the joke and dramatically declared,"Yes, you're dead! Anyway, we're here to reincarnate you. So, tell us, what do you wanna be in your next life? A noble prince? A powerful warrior? An immortal chicken with self-respect or an undying coakroche?"
Theo's breath caught, his mind reeled.
"So…I really died, huh?"His voice broke the stillness, drifting into the air as his gaze lingered on the weathered wooden rooftop above.
Then, suddenly, a more urgent thought struck him. His head snapped to the right.
"Where's Emil?"
His tense shoulders relaxed the moment he saw him, still lying there. A quiet sigh of relief escaped his lips.
The young girl let out a frustrated huff, her cheeks twitching as she stared at Theo. Either he didn't get her joke, or worse, he was deliberately ignoring it. The lack of reaction made her pout slightly, crossing her arms in exaggerated disappointment.
Meanwhile, the veiled woman chuckled softly at the exchange, the sound light and amused. Then, turning her attention to Theo, she asked,"Tell me, who did this to you both? Did you steal something?"
His expression darkened, his jaw tightening.
"We have never stolen anything from anyone," he said, his voice edged with restrained anger.
She watched him like an alchemist observing a reaction.The accusation of theft from earlier, the way that beared men had called him a thief, it didn't quite add up. Her eyes remained steady as she asked,"Then why did he beat you so badly?"
"That…"He didn't answer right away. His mind drifted back to the events of the day, replaying them in fragments. Today had been the most unfortunate day of their lives. Every misstep, every cruel twist of fate had led them here.
Slowly, tears welled up in his eyes, not for himself, but for Emil. Today had been too much.
They were tougher than most kids their age, hardened by the brutal life of the slums. They had learned to endure hunger, pain, and the cruelty of the world. But in the end, he was still just sixteen. Still growing. And this… this was more than he could bear.
As silence stretched, fragments of memory resurfaced hazy, blurred, but significant.
Emil's hand trembling as it offered coins...
The image was unclear, but the strangeness of it sent a chill down his spine. Emil had willingly given him money, something he cherished above all else. Both had spent some days hungry, refusing to spend even a single coin, always saying that once they reached the upper district, they'd feast like kings. He never even let him touch their savings.
So why?
Why had he handed him money so easily?
He didn't answer her rescuer's question. Instead, he pressed his lips shut, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Who knew what would happen next?
This woman, this powerful, enigmatic figure who had appeared before them out of nowhere had healed him with something beyond his understanding. He had no idea who she was or what she wanted. And in a world where the weak had no say, silence was often the safest choice.
After a brief pause, as his senses sharpened, he noticed that both the mysterious women and Emil were enveloped in the same strange aura. His voice remained calm but edged with authority as he asked, "What are you doing?"
The women responded, her tone steady but stern. "Healing his injuries. If my maid hadn't brought both of you here, your friend would have been dead by now."
Theo, anxiety evident in his voice, leaned forward. "Is he going to be alright?"
"Yes, for now," she replied, her eyes flickering briefly toward the injured Emil. "But I can't promise anything for the future unless you tell me everything. From the beginning, what happened to you both? Where do you live? How do you survive in the slums?"
This time, he spoke up, his concern for his friend's health outweighing any hesitation. "We live behind the Ashen Hollow District, the part of the city people call the slums..."
He didn't hold anything back. He shared everything—Emil's background, the Mad Eye protectors known as the Mad Reapers, and the ruthless group called the Rabid Dogs, who would occasionally raid the slums, taking both limbs and money from the people. He described the events leading up to today: how Mad Hallow and his lackeys had beaten them, and the final incident, the men's beating, an act the lady had witnessed firsthand.
She listened in silence, absorbing the cruelty of a man like Mad Eye, who ruled the slums through terror by deceiving people, dividing his oppression between two forces, one that took flesh, the other that took wealth. When the full weight of the truth settled upon her, she tilted her head slightly and remarked, "You care too much for your limbs."
It was an observation, she had noticed how Theo's words circled back to that one word 'limbs' again and again, as if the very thought of losing them haunted him more than death itself.
"Why would I not care? It's the only thing I have that's truly mine," He said, shifting from his sleeping position to sit up on the bed, cradling his legs in his arms as if anchoring himself.
The indigo-wreathed figure's voice was calm but carried an edge. "Do you know why he's in this condition, and yet you, well, your limbs are still intact?"
His curiosity flared, he wanted to know more than anything. "No, I don't know. Tell me, please."
She detached her white hands from Emil and let the aura dissipate. "This is the price of seeing dreams."
He frowned, confusion knitting his brow. "What do you mean by dreams? I dream when I sleep, too."
She replied but this time with more detail, "I'm talking about the illustrations and images of the upper districts, those different things Emil has pinned up in the place you call home. They're his dreams. He wants to soar through the sky, free of restrictions. If I were to put it plainly, he's born to fly. As for you... you're nothing more than just another face in the crowd. Millions like you are born and die every day, and no one notices. Emil gave money to save your leg, but he didn't give the same to those who broke his nose and fractured his facial bones. Can you feel the fear of cold metal against your precious delicate face? No, you can't. Even I can't. Only he had the courage to face that."
She continued, her voice steady but carrying the weight of truth. "I'm telling you this for his sake. His love and loyalty, things you might dismiss as normal, just because you've grown up together. But the world you see through your innocent eyes isn't the same here. Real blood brothers are fighting each other for wealth and power. In this world, finding a friend more loyal than a family member is a treasure that even the richest person cannot buy. But what good is that loyalty when he's trapped in invisible chains? Chains that are dragging him down, sinking him, and denying him the freedom to soar. " She tried to explain to him in simple terms, using examples that matched his understanding.
Theo, who had been listening to every word as if his life depended on it, asked, "What chains?" He couldn't see any chains around Emil.