Magnus’s expression went blank for a moment as he processed what Elip had just told him. Seeing this, Elip tensed up, choosing to remain silent.
Questions flooded Magnus’s mind. This village had only been dealing with monster attacks, so where had a mana beast come from—especially one at the Adept-level? And why had Seraline even engaged with it in the first place? Even the mana beast they had fought back in the forest had just begun approaching the limits of the Apprentice-level. Although it was only really an issue because of its illusion magic and regeneration, it had still taken both of them and their combined efforts to bring it down. He knew Seraline was eager to grow, to drive, and to push herself and her limits further. But she had wanted to team up with him on this assignment precisely to avoid reckless encounters like this.
So why would she try to fight an Adept-level mana beast without even telling me? At the very least, if I was watching their fight, I could have stepped in if things got out of hand.
Confusion flickered across his face, but he didn’t voice his questions.
“She’s here, right? In the village hall. Can you take me to her?” Magnus asked. Elip blinked, surprised, as he took in Magnus’s face. He’d been bracing himself for anger, but Magnus only looked concerned and a little bewildered. From what he knew, most students from Takerth Academy were nobles, and people tended to equate noble blood with mage behavior. Even when Seraline and Magnus had shown up after the village sent a request to Arlcliff City, the villagers hadn’t expected much. Yet Magnus and Seraline hadn’t acted like nobles at all; they’d been approachable and easy to speak with. But after learning what had happened to Seraline, Elip’s heart sank.
One of Takerth Academy’s students had gotten hurt fighting a mana beast when they were only supposed to be dealing with monsters. Even if it wasn’t their village's fault, he worried they’d still be blamed for it anyhow. The scorn of one of the Ten Great Magic Academies was not something a small village like theirs could endure.
“Elip, Seraline’s here, right?” Magnus’s voice cut through Elip’s racing thoughts as he repeated himself. He met Magnus’s gaze and nodded.
“Yes, she is. She’s on the top floor; follow me.” Elip led the way to a staircase, leaving behind the guard, his brother, who still looked dazed from his brush with death, and the doctor, still in awe of Magnus’s [Perfective Regeneration].
As they went, Magnus realized he’d misunderstood something about the layout of the village hall. The staircase didn’t lead directly to the second floor; instead, it opened onto a network of staircases, walkways, and bridges crisscrossing outside the outer edge of the massive tree’s trunk. Some stairs led up, others down, a few crossing over, and some spiraling around the tree’s circumference. The village hall itself spanned five floors, barely filling a quarter of the tree’s immense interior.
From the walkways on the first floor, you could reach any of the others. Floors one through four were now makeshift hospital wards for injured villagers. The fifth floor, however, was where the village elders usually held their meetings and housed important visitors, such as the regional inspector or a representative from another settlement, to discuss business and agreements.
It wasn't being used for that anymore, and they had moved Seraline into one of those rooms to recover.
As they reached the fifth floor, Magnus pushed open a small set of doors leading into a hallway. Unlike the stripped-bare first floor, the fifth remained untouched. It wasn’t overly luxurious, but an ornate carpet stretched down the hall from one end to the other. Like on the other floors, orange lanterns lined the walls, designed to look like hanging orbs of light. A few meters above, the ceiling arched into finely carved archways, with lightwells just below. Being so deep inside the tree’s center, these lightwells must have stretched all the way outside, adding a soft, natural glow to the hallway.
At the hallway’s end, opposite where Magnus and Elip entered, the corridor split into three sections. Straight ahead stood another set of double doors, much larger than those at the stairway entrance. To the left and right, two parallel hallways curved slightly, each lined with doors and rooms. It made the entire floor have a T-like shape.
As they walked, Elip briefly explained, “Straight ahead is the council room, where the village elders make decisions and handle village affairs. Your friend Seraline is in one of the guest rooms to the left.”
Magnus nodded as they turned down the left hallway. After a few more steps, Magnus noticed someone up ahead. Judging by his armor, he was another captain like Elip. Spotting them, the captain approached.
“Is this him?” The captain asked, glancing at Magnus, who walked a step behind Elip.
Elip nodded as he answered, “Yes, this is Magnus. Magnus, meet Rasan. He was the captain who rescued Seraline after her fight with the mana beast. Without him, it would have taken us much longer to reach her. He’s also the one who filled us in on what happened.”
Magnus looked at Rasan in surprise before thanking him, but Rasan only shook his head.
“It’s fine; we owe you and your friend far more. Even if we had somehow managed to deal with the fire and the monsters, we’d never have stood a chance against that Adept-level mana beast or been able to deal with it if not for her. Not even with all of us together.” Elip nodded in agreement with Rasan's statement. Though the gap between Apprentice and Adept levels wasn’t insurmountable, it required overwhelming numbers—a resource they simply didn’t have.
“Anyway, your friend is in here,” Rasan said, gesturing to the door behind him. Magnus paused, staring at the door for a moment before stepping forward. As he pushed it open, a quaint room unfolded before him. Like all the rooms in the village hall, it was crafted entirely of smoothed wood, yet it was clear that careful work had gone into it. The wood had been carved with fine details, adding depth with pillars and an arched ceiling. Flowers and vines wrapped around the carvings, displaying hues of red, pink, and yellow.
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The room’s décor, combined with the warm lantern light, gave it a subtle, fantastical charm. A few fine paintings—likely bought from passing merchants—hung on the walls. This room, located near the edge of the tree, even had a small balcony, though its view overlooked the western district, a sight nowhere near as comforting as it used to be.
“Rasan!” A small, excited voice broke the silence just as Magnus stepped inside. He looked around and spotted a young boy seated on the carpet beside the bed, building a castle from wooden blocks. The boy quickly scrambled up and headed toward them, but when he noticed Elip and Magnus, his enthusiasm faded as he continued heading their way. The moment he reached Rasan, he retreated behind him, clutching the captain’s pants.
He glanced cautiously at Magnus, then looked up at Rasan, mumbling a barely audible “Who?”
Rasan bent down, gently patting the boy’s head as he spoke, “Halen, this is Magnus. He’s a friend of Seraline’s.”
The boy’s eyes brightened with a mix of nervousness and curiosity as he glanced back at Magnus upon hearing that. Magnus gave a small wave, which only made Halen retreat further behind Rasan. Amused but also confused, Magnus smiled, casting a glance at Rasan.
Noticing that Rasan turned to Halen and spoke softly, “Hey, why don’t you go back to your blocks so I can finish talking here? We’ll grab some dazzle berries when I’m done.”
The mention of the treat seemed to have gotten an immediate response from Halen, who nodded eagerly before releasing Rasan’s leg and hurrying back to his castle. Once Halen was out of earshot, Rasan turned to Magnus, ready to explain what was happening.
"I'm not sure of all the details," Rasan began solemnly, taking a deep breath, "but that boy and his father were caught out in the open by that mana beast. I tried to get to them, but... I was too late; the father didn’t make it."
Rasan paused after saying that before continuing.
“The kid almost didn’t make it either, if Seraline hadn’t rushed in to save him. She couldn’t fight properly while carrying him, though, so she handed him off to me and stayed back to take on the mana beast.” Listening to Rasan, Magnus felt some of his questions fall into place—why Seraline had engaged with the mana beast in the first place and also why she hadn’t simply tried to run despite being in danger. Even if they were both at the Adept-level, it was hard to stop someone at the same level as you from escaping if they really wanted to.
“Once I had the boy, I moved far enough away to make sure I didn't get pulled into the fight but close enough to keep an eye on Seraline and watch everything from a distance. It was hard to see exactly what was happening; they were moving fast. But eventually, she managed to kill it, though she took a pretty bad hit herself. I brought them both back here, and since then, he hasn’t left her side. He won’t even leave this room.” Rasan’s gaze drifted to the young boy playing at the foot of Seraline’s bed, an unspoken sympathy clear in his eyes—something a child that age could never interpret, even if he saw it.
“I see... And the other parent?” Magnus asked, looking between Rasan and Elip.
“Does he have a mother?”
Elip sighed.
“We searched, but there’s no sign of her.”
Rasan added, “He doesn’t say much. I’m not sure he even fully understands what happened to his father or what death means. From what little I’ve managed to coax out of him, it’s always just been him and his dad. So either his mother passed early, left his father a long time ago, or…”
“Or he was adopted,” Magnus finished Rasan’s thought. It didn't really matter which of their guesses was the truth; the situation remained the same. The boy was alone now, with no family left to care for him. The three of them fell silent, watching the boy as he stacked his wooden blocks by the bed.
Well, no wonder he won’t leave Seraline’s side. All things considered, maybe it’s for the best that this happened to him when he was so young; it’s probably the only reason he can still play like that, despite everything that's happened.
With that thought, Magnus walked slowly toward the bed. The boy, Halen, looked up as he approached, cautious and nervous but not running. Instead, he scooted closer to Seraline’s side. Magnus stopped at the bed’s edge, finally taking in Seraline’s condition. Her entire body, save her face, was wrapped in bandages. Burn marks marred her skin, and her hair, lying against the white bedding, looked singed and curled, lacking its usual smoothness. She lay there breathing softly, the steady rise and fall of her chest visible beneath the sheets.
Yet, even with the blankets, he could see it—her right arm was gone.
As he stood there, he heard Elip and Rasan come up behind him. Rasan was the first to speak.
"When I found her, her whole body was burned, though not as severely as her right arm," Rasan explained, his voice heavy.
"For some reason, her aura didn’t protect that part as well as the rest." Rasan's thoughts drifted back to that moment; the image seared into his mind. Seraline’s arm had been charred completely black, like shriveled, darkened leather. The skin was entirely gone, leaving scorched, cooked flesh underneath, and around her shoulder, where the burn tapered off, her skin had turned a deep purplish red, swollen, and covered in blisters.
Just remembering it made him shudder. The only reason she hadn’t screamed the whole time he was carrying her back was because the impact of the mana beast's attack had knocked her out cold.
"The doctors said the attack went deeper than just the skin; it damaged muscle, nerves, blood vessels—even her bones. Amputation was the only option, but it was difficult. Her aura kept protecting her even while she was unconscious. Rasan and I had to work with the doctors for a while just to get through it." As Rasan finished describing the injury, he and Elip looked at Magnus, not surprised to find a disturbed expression on his face. Though Magnus had proven himself a powerful mage to everyone, he was clearly young; they figured he might not have been used to seeing injuries this severe—especially on a friend.
But for Magnus, that was only part of the reason he stared so intently at Seraline now. After a long pause, a single phrase slipped from his lips, almost a whisper.
"It's the same arm..."
Elip and Rasan exchanged confused glances before Rasan asked, “What?”
But Magnus didn’t respond, lost in thought.
Back in Arlcliff City, he’d first met Seraline while visiting Takerth Academy with Gerald. He’d felt a vague familiarity toward her back then but couldn’t figure out why—until he saw her wielding her spear. That’s when the memories flooded back. Before he’d ever played the game that seemed to trigger all of this, he’d visited its page and browsed the promotional art. He couldn't properly put the feelings into words back then, but they had been beautifully detailed yet almost too real, as if offering a glimpse into lives that existed somewhere beyond fiction. Now he knew why. One of the images he had lingered on was the art of Seraline.
In that art, she wore dull golden armor, battered and scarred from countless battles, covering her entirely except for her head and that striking maroon hair cascading down her back like a cloak. Yet, what had truly caught his attention wasn’t just her stance over a battlefield littered with just as many broken weapons as there were bodies. It was that Seraline had been missing both an arm and an eye. A patch covered where her left eye should have been, and her right arm was a mechanical prosthetic.
That's what had stunned Magnus. Now, even though she still had her left eye, her right arm was gone.
Is this just a coincidence? Or... does this mean this world is still following its original storyline, even with me here?