I drifted between wakefulness and unconsciousness, my mind lost in a haze of pain and half-formed memories. The scent of antiseptic herbs hung thick in the air, mixed with the faint aroma of aged wood and candle wax. Somewhere nearby, voices murmured, too distant to make out clearly.

Then—pain. A dull, throbbing ache crawled through my body, dragging me fully back to reality. My eyelids fluttered open.

A modest room. Wooden beams overhead. A single candle flickering on a bedside table.

My body felt like it had been crushed under the weight of a collapsed building. Given what had happened, that wasn’t far from the truth.

The movement to my side drew my attention. A man—probably a doctor—was adjusting a cloth on a small wooden table. He had an air of quiet efficiency, sleeves rolled up as he worked.

“You’re awake.” He turned to me, his voice matter-of-fact. “Much earlier than anticipated in fact.”

I exhaled softly, testing my limbs. A bandage wrapped around my ribs, tight but secure. My arm, once shattered, was now set in a cast. My muscles groaned with protest at even the slightest movement.

“How bad is it?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

The doctor folded his arms. “Bad enough that you should be resting instead of talking. You have a compound transverse fracture which was quite gruesome to see. along with that you had deep lacerations across your back and sides, and your body suffered enough internal trauma that, frankly, you shouldn’t even be conscious yet. You need months to recover properly.”

“I can handle the rest myself.”

The doctor gave me a skeptical look. “What?”

I shifted, sitting up despite the protest of her ribs. The candlelight caught the faint shimmer of mana beginning to swirl around her fingertips. “I appreciate your help,” I said, voice steady, “but my body heals differently than most.”

Before he could argue, I closed my eyes and focused.

Mana surged through my veins, heat spreading from my Mansian to my wounded limbs. The dull pain sharpened for a moment before fading, flesh knitting together at an accelerated pace. The bruising receded, the torn muscle repairing itself. My ribs adjusted, locking back into place with an uncomfortable—but bearable—sensation.

I reached for her cast, fingers tightening around its edge. With one motion, I pulled it off.

The doctor flinched. “Are you insane—?”

I flexed my arm. The ache remained, but the bone was whole again. “I said I can handle it.”

The doctor muttered something under his breath, shaking his head. “Fine. Shorten your lifespan over it for all I care.” He grabbed his bag, clearly deciding I was beyond his expertise, and left the room.

Silence settled.

I took a slow breath. My body was still stiff, and my mana reserves drained from the effort. But I was mobile. That was enough.

Now came the harder question.

What now?

I glanced toward the window. The faint glow of the city flickered beyond the curtains, distant yet close enough to remind her of everything that had happened.

The estate was gone. Alain was gone.

My fingers curled into the sheets, a tremor running through her hands.

When I had lost her memories, running away had felt like the only option. I thought I had escaped the weight of nobility, of expectations, of all the things I had never wanted to bear.

But fate had dragged me back anyway. It showed me the light of hope, only to extinguish it underfoot the next moment.

And now… now there was nothing left.

I could leave. Disappear as I had planned. I have the means to do it.

Her grip tightened.

----------------------------------------

The Night Earlier – When Farthington Had Run Away from Tokei to Find a Doctor

Dark clouds loomed overhead, swallowing the moonlight and leaving the city’s lanterns as the only sources of illumination. I scanned the streets, searching for anyone who might know where to find a doctor.

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“We meet again.”

“FBKEOJFGOJFDL!!!”

“It’s just me, Seraphina. Calm down.”

“Good heavens! What’s a pushy lady like you doing prowling the streets this late at night? You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“If you’re going to walk around with your Mansian running wild, of course, I’d come looking to see what’s going on.”

“…What?”

“You don’t know?”

“...No, I don’t. And frankly, I don’t have time for this—I need to find a doctor or another pushy lady will have my head.”

“Wait.” She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “This is important. For you, your friend, and Lady Elysia.”

I frowned. “And why, exactly, should I take anything you say at face value? We’re just some strangers you have no connection to.”

“I’ll have you know I’m telling you this purely for my own gain.”

“Well… that was quite upfront.”

“Exactly. Which is why you should at least hear me out.”

I sighed. “Fine. But you’re leading me to a doctor at once.”

“I accept.” She started walking, and I followed, wary but intrigued. “Now then, do you know about Mansian Emission?”

I blinked. “No. Should I?”

A knowing smirk tugged at her lips. “Then you’ve unknowingly tangled yourself in a mess of astronomical proportions.”

“…Riiiiight. Whatever you say I suppose~. And what exactly is Mansian Emission?”

“It’s the byproduct of taking in Sethnine from the world and converting it into mana. The impurities that your body filters out are expelled as emissions. So, what do you think happens when someone produces an enormous amount of mana?”

“They would also produce an enormous amount of emissions…” I paused, considering. “Wait. Are you saying I’m producing an unusual amount of emissions or something of the sort? Don’t tell me I’m lacking!”

“Unusual?” She let out a short laugh. “You, Lady Elysia, and the other one were producing so much it was oppressive.”

“Pfft! You must be joking. I’m only slightly above, above average. If I really produced as much mana as you claim, why can’t I use it?”

Seraphina’s expression turned unreadable. “That… I can’t tell you. You’re the one producing it. You should know.”

I see… If this lady noticed something unusual about us, then others must have noticed too. I can’t let this spiral out of control—I just want an extra-long vacation after this. Three months? No, a year. Yes, that sounds about right.

“So why are you telling me this? What’s your endgame?”

Seraphina smirked. “Let me put it simply—right now, you three are the hottest topic among the nobility. They're already scheming about how to claim you as powerful allies, tools for their own ambitions. But since I publicly declared you as my fiancé and the purple-haired one seems fiercely devoted to Elysia and the Luminastra family, they can’t make a move. For now, at least. This means I will be able to keep my peaceful, carefree, and rich life as Archduke Caliber’s only daughter. If something happens in the kingdom, I have to work overtime…”

“Then we’re fine, right?”

She sighed dramatically. “That would be an optimistic—if not completely false—assumption. The nobles might be restrained, but the king? He’s another matter entirely. With the Luminastra estate in ruins and you desperately searching for a doctor, I’d say he’s already begun eliminating those who could disrupt his plans. And trust me, when the king decides you’re a problem, you don’t get the luxury of being left alone. Ah, here we are~ I best be on my way now. I have a few jobs to take care of.”

She walked off into the distance and left me standing in front of a doctor's office. Indeed, she is still in competition with me for the ‘Most Self-Centered Person Of The Year Award.’

----------------------------------------

A Short While Later…

Seraphina sighed as she leaned back in a worn-out chair, resting one foot on her latest acquisition—a bruised and bloodied man, hands tightly bound, his face twisted in pain. Around the dimly lit room, the corpses of his fallen comrades lay strewn across the floor, the scent of gunpowder and blood still lingering in the air.

She absentmindedly twirled a magnum revolver, its intricate engravings gleaming under the flickering light of a half-broken chandelier. The craftsmanship of the weapon was exquisite, far beyond anything produced for the common soldier. It was one of her favorites.

“Now, let’s make this quick,” she drawled, eyes lazily watching her hostage squirm. “I hate staying out this late—it messes with my beauty sleep.” She pressed the barrel of the gun against the man’s knee. “Why were you and your little friends moving precious metals in such odd amounts? hmmm~”

The man’s jaw tightened. He said nothing.

Seraphina rolled her eyes. Bang!

The gunshot echoed through the empty warehouse, and a scream ripped through the air as the bullet tore into his foot. He writhed, panting heavily, but still clenched his teeth in silence.

“You must be very dedicated,” she mused, cocking the hammer again. “Or very stupid.”

Bang!

This time, the bullet buried itself into his shoulder, sending him collapsing against the chair’s leg, gasping in pain. Blood pooled beneath him.

“W-We were ordered…” he choked out, finally breaking under the pressure. “By the king… The king ordered the secret distribution of precious metals—Aeronite, Iron, and Servin—to fuel the production of more weaponry. He’s preparing for war… mass production, large-scale.”

Seraphina stopped twirling her revolver. Her smirk faded ever so slightly.

“Now that,” she muttered, standing up and placing the gun against his forehead, “is very interesting.”