Notek’s ‘month to live’ was a generous estimate. By his own assessment, Jair would spend the fourth week incapable of moving from bed, and a week before that increasingly feeble and in implausible amounts of pain as his manabody broke down entirely, dragging the physical to ruin along with it.

If necessary, he could probably sustain himself a further few days past that, but even his willpower was finite. Eventually he’d wear down as the relentless venom only grew stronger the more of him it absorbed.

Unless he was very close to a cure, Jair would revert before it got that far. He’d reconstructed a shattered manabody once before, and it was something he’d really rather avoid. Not pleasant at the best of times.

Two weeks would be a better estimate of how long he had, assuming he wanted to remain basically functional and not too obviously sickly.

Should be plenty. That gave him time to work on his minor inroads with the nobility. He had several invitations, and could also try imposing, now he had a different sort of standing.

'Dragonslayer' wasn't a title with the same weight as it would have been a thousand years ago, most noble children obtained it sooner or later as a matter of course. But the way in which Jair had obtained his, plus the spectacle of his ascended sword... the combination would be enough to pique anyone's interest.

Solaria wouldn’t be for twenty days, putting him into the uncomfortable bedridden phase, so that would be of minimal help. Though he could hold out that long if he had good reason to do so.

Ran was staring at him intently.

Jair leaned back on his pile of pillows and folded his hands over his chest. “Go ahead. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

It took Ran a moment to answer, and when he finally spoke it was with obvious care, suppressing his curiosity beneath propriety.

“Redo, you said.” Very carefully not demanding specific details of Jair’s soulspell.

Jair smiled and shook his head. “If you want to ask, ask.”

Ran’s cheeks reddened, eyes going wide. “N-no, I wouldn’t–”

“When I said anything, I meant anything.”

“Well, then… If you’re sure, how far into the future can you– how far have you– when you said ‘redo’, before, is that–” Ran’s questions ran into one another, none reaching completion, still stuttering over the breach of etiquette.

Jair took pity on him, though it would have been amusing to watch him floundering. “I can live as long as I can live, then revert to a past time at will or on death. Anything between then and the day I received my class. It’s not precise, I can’t micro-replay a conversation or a battle, but an afternoon, a day, a week, those I have a good chance of managing.”

Ran lowered his voice and scooted closer, still clearly uncomfortable, but too curious not to press on. “You can just redo anything? Reverse the entire universe? Again and again until you get it right?”

“The more times I go back to a specific point, the more it changes the landscape of the timeline. Sometimes the spot crumbles faster, sometimes it solidifies more strongly. I don’t know what determines which is which. Some spots I can only revert to once before I end up falling further back, others can be reused indefinitely.”

“So why…” Ran gestured to Jair’s bedridden condition. “Couldn’t you have prevented this?”

“Eh, not worth it. Besides, knowing how to cure exotic dragon blood absorption could come in handy someday. You never know. Not to mention the potential money.” Excitement began to tinge Jair’s voice as his enthusiasm gained momentum. “Imagine, solving something like this that has been a death sentence for centuries? People will be falling all over themselves to get in on it. I could probably start a global bidding war.”

Ran stiffened, picking up on the context immediately. “Death sentence. Dragon blood absorption. You're... dying? Because of me?"

"Pff, no." Jair laughed and waved it away. "This? No way something like this kills me. It may delay my other plans a bit, but I promise you, I will not die from this. Not a chance."

“There is no cure for poison dragon blood. If it were a fire dragon or shimmer dragon, yes, but this…” Ran trailed off uneasily.

“It’s worth it.” Jair leaned over to take Ran’s hands in his, staring intently into his friend’s eyes. “Don’t try to regret this, because I won’t. Not ever.”

“But if you can just revert…”

If he focused, Jair could feel the erosion of the dragon blood inside him, eating away at his manabody, tearing pathways that were never meant to exist. Mimicking the flow of his blood, imposing the physical onto the magical.

The damage would build up far faster than any imprint. It wasn't creating stable channels, simply burning away everything in its path. Those rends would then echo into the physical, mana drawn out into the malignant venom and hastening its spread, compounding the problem and accelerating overall degradation of both his bodies at an exponential rate.

This wasn't something he could solve on his own, and certainly not without resources. But…

“Nah, what better motivation than personal survival? Besides, this is something I haven’t had the opportunity to do before. The other times you were always dead and I had no startup capital. None of the nobles respected me in the slightest, so it was impossible to make any headway before I had to revert. This time I have so many avenues to explore, it’s amazing. Oh, I'll need to borrow some money from you, I'm afraid. This isn't going to be cheap to fix. Don’t worry, in a few years I can pay you back in full."

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“Of course you can borrow whatever you need.” Ran continued to stare at him. “You know you can research something without being the test subject. If you can undo this–”

“No. Absolutely not. I won’t risk losing you again. Three weeks is plenty of time to find a cure for the uncurable.”

Ran didn’t look convinced, but he changed the subject anyway. “So how did this happen? What was the fight like, how did it go? I hardly saw any of it.”

So Jair dramatically recounted the final battle, leaving Ran breathless with anticipation as he narrated their close calls and the dragon's frenzied efforts to get at him despite it all.

Ran laughed with relief when the tale ended, the dragon finally collapsing in the sand. “So it’s true, you really are a dragonslayer now.”

“Did you ever doubt?” Jair put a hand over his heart dramatically.

“Voric was telling everyone he saw you tear its wing off with your bare hands. No one’s talking about anything else, especially with the damage to the wall and Professor Firdon’s death. If you were trying to make a splash, you’ve succeeded. This makes your duel with Lian look tame in comparison.”

A dragon murdering a teacher right in the Institute itself? Ran was right, this would be talked of for decades.

Some thought Ran and Jair were only students caught in the crossfire, but the whispers only grew. Whatever attention he’d gained by beating Lian would be dwarfed by this new feat.

Dragonslayer.

“They’re definitely not going to underestimate you any more after this.”

Yet another major social shift.

Jair only shrugged. “As long as it keeps them from coming after me again, I won’t have to kill anyone.”

Ran’s expression darkened. “I don’t think it will. Sure, it’ll keep all the regular idiots from messing with you, probably get you a fan club too, but Lian’s gang… don’t treat them lightly. They may be fools but they’re perfectly capable of being dangerous even to you.”

“I already showed them I can take them all on even before I tore a dragon from the sky with my bare hands.” Jair smirked. “If they think they’ll fare better in a rematch, they’re welcome to try. As long as they keep it to once every week or two, that’s fine. It’s the constant harassment day in and day out that gets in the way of progress.”

“If you’re worried about people getting in your way, you shouldn’t have made such a spectacle of yourself.” Ran cackled. “You know you’re going to suddenly be very popular, right?”

“Ah, Aelir… you’re right.” Jair flopped his head back on his pillow dramatically, throwing a hand across his forehead. “The endless hordes of adoring girls will get in my way just as much as the bullies ever did.” He sat back up, eyes wide, and clutched at the front of Ran’s robes. “Save me! Take some of them off my hands before I drown in adulation!”

“No, no, you’re the one who earned it.” Ran pitched his voice higher in mock indignation. “I would never dream of supplanting my savior in the eyes of his peers. You earned every bit of the attention you’ll be getting.”

“Curse you, traitor!”

“I wonder if we can get ‘Dragonslayer’ added to your status officially?” Ran teased, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Jair smacked him. Ran retaliated, grinning. Jair lunged up and wrestled Ran onto the floor.

Things escalated quickly, and by the time Notek came to investigate the noise they’d ended up half under the bed, Jair gasping for breath under Ran’s weight while he held Ran in a headlock with the flat of Maelstrom across his throat.

“Boys! You’re supposed to be resting, not trying to murder each other!”

Jair and Ran jumped apart, Maelstrom disappearing in a silver flash. They brushed themselves off, restraining their laughter and feigning complete innocence.

“Just exercising a little to stay limber, Professor,” Ran explained, struggling to keep a straight face. “It’s important not to let our combat skills dull with inaction.”

Notek’s disapproving expression didn’t change. “You’ve been provisionally released, but I have every right to order you back to recovery if I feel you’re at risk of causing more damage,” he told Ran sternly, then turned his glare on Jair. “And you, are you trying to die faster? Until the antivenom is fully established you need to remain as calm as possible.”

“I’m not concerned with that.” Jair smiled innocently. “Shouldn’t I be able to spend my last days living how I want?”

Notek’s frown deepened. “If you keep up with this kind of shenanigans ‘days’ is all you’ll have.”

“It won’t happen again,” Ran cut in firmly. “I won’t let it.”

Jair sighed in exaggerated resignation and returned to his bed obediently. “Fine, I surrender. I shall spend the next two days asleep. Happy?”

“Yes.” Ran said firmly. “Take care of yourself.”

Jair opened his mouth to protest.

“For me, if not for yourself.” Ran overrode him, giving Jair no time to interrupt. “I know you don’t care how quickly your body falls apart around you, but I’d rather you do this properly and at least pretend to try to recover.”

“Sure, mum, will do.”

“That’s enough of that.” Notek shooed Ran out of the ward.

“This little stunt has probably cost you days,” Notek hissed once they were alone. “I know you’re happy to have your friend healthy but you have to think about yourself too.”

Jair didn’t argue. At this point, losing days off the end didn’t matter. He would revert long before the condition progressed to that stage anyway. Getting into a fight with Notek wouldn’t help anything.

He waited impatiently while Notek drew blood and checked Jair’s vitals yet again.

Something had felt slightly different to him this time, and he wanted to double check. Maelstrom’s blade had seemed slightly off, the color the slightest bit different.

Could be the lighting, but with Maelstrom he’d rather not take chances. The thought had immediately crossed his mind that the dragon’s poison blood might be degrading the already faulty ascension, a concern that made his pulse speed up.

While he could revert his own body to undo any damage, Maelstrom was a part of his soul. Any damage to the blade would be retained forever, and if it were to break…

He refused to consider that possibility. He would not go through that all again.

Thankfully, Notek’s repertoire was much less intensive than the healer in town, and it only took a few minutes. He finished promptly, leaving Jair alone to the silence.

As soon as he was alone, Jair raised two fingers to his forehead. “Soulblade, manifest.”

Maelstrom appeared in a flash of silver light. Jair looked it over carefully, and immediately saw what was different. A small patch of the silvery blue pearl dust near the tip had shifted to a virulent green and taken on a faintly scaled pattern.

“Inspect.”

Then the tension all flowed out of him as he read the details. He laughed aloud in relief. No damage at all. The opposite, in fact.

─ Maelstrom

─Type: Ascended Soulsword (3rd Form)

─ Rank: Legendary (12%)

Imbued with the pure energy of Mount Sanctum at its ascension, this blade has transcended its humble origins and become a weapon of *****?

Slaying an ancient poison dragon has altered this weapon, empowering it with its venom and **?

– Class Requirement: Mageblade

─ Bound to Jair Welburne

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