Chương 243: Chapter : 243

The powder was fine and golden, like crushed sunlight. Chiha mixed it with spring water in a small crystal bowl, and the resulting liquid glowed with a warm, honey-colored radiance that filled the dark room with the feeling of a summer morning. He dipped his fingers into the solution and began to paint it onto Luna skin, tracing the paths of the corrupted mana channels with careful, practiced strokes. The reaction was instant. Luna body convulsed. Her back arched off the bed. Her mouth opened in a silent scream.

The blue veins on her skin flared with brilliant, terrible light, fighting against the golden glow of the horn solution with everything they had. Hold her! Chiha commanded. Iris grabbed Luna shoulders. Naomi pinned her legs. Zinia held her arms. Luna thrashed and twisted, her body caught in a war between the Decay and the cure, and the three girls held on with everything they had. The blue veins pulsed once. Twice. Three times. Each pulse was weaker than the last.

The golden light was winning, pushing the Decay back one pulse at a time, like the tide rolling out after a storm. Slowly, steadily, the blue glow began to fade, retreating from Luna arms, her hands, her face, like poison being drawn out of a wound. And then, with a final, feeble flicker, the Blue Decay died. The blue veins collapsed and faded, leaving nothing but faint white lines on Luna skin that would heal in time. Her body went limp. Her breathing deepened and steadied.

The color began to return to her cheeks, slow at first, then faster, like dawn creeping across a dark sky. It is done, Chiha said. He sat down heavily on his stool, his hands shaking, his face covered in sweat. But he was smiling. The cure had worked. The Glayin horn had done what no imperial physician and no royal healer had been able to do. It had stopped the Blue Decay. Iris buried her face in Luna blankets and wept. Not tears of grief this time. Tears of relief. Tears of exhaustion.

Tears of a burden that had been carried for so long that letting it go felt like falling. She had spent an entire week holding herself together, being the strong princess, making the hard decisions, never letting her fear show. Now, finally, she could let it all out. Naomi put a hand on her shoulder. No words. Just presence. It was exactly what Iris needed. Luna stirred. Her eyes fluttered open. They were clear. No blue glow. No pain. Just the sleepy, half-lidded gaze that was uniquely Luna. What did I miss?

she mumbled. Then she yawned, closed her eyes, and went back to sleep, because even after nearly dying from a Class-S mana poison, Luna was still Luna. She could sleep through anything. It was her greatest talent, and also her most infuriating one, depending on who you asked. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The room erupted. Laxmi punched the air and whooped.

Sayma laughed and pushed her glasses up with shaking fingers, already thinking about the report she would write. Zinia exhaled slowly through her nose, which for her was the equivalent of a full celebration. Ira turned away, and if her shoulders shook slightly, nobody mentioned it. Risa ran to the bed and hugged Luna sleeping form, her teddy bear squished between them, crying happy tears into the blankets.

And Ken, who was standing in the doorway with his back against the frame, his hands in his pockets and his cheap suit still covered in jungle mud, allowed himself a single, genuine smile. It was small and private and gone almost before it appeared. But for that one moment, he did not look like a lazy commoner. He looked like someone who had just watched something precious be saved from the dark, and was glad.

Then Naomi glanced at him, and the lazy, goofy mask was back in place so fast that she almost doubted she had seen it slip. Almost. Good, Ken said, stifling a yawn. Now can someone please tell me where the kitchen is? I have not eaten a proper meal in three days, and I am pretty sure my stomach is filing for emancipation.

The celebration was quiet but heartfelt. Chiha insisted that Luna needed at least twenty-four hours of complete rest before anyone was allowed to overwhelm her with attention, so the team took turns checking on her in pairs. She slept through all of it, her breathing deep and even, the faint white lines on her skin already beginning to fade. The color was returning to her face, and her silver hair had regained its soft luster.

She looked like she was simply taking one of her legendary naps, as if nothing had ever been wrong. As if the Blue Decay had been nothing more than a bad dream that she had already forgotten. By midnight, the estate had settled into a cautious calm. The curtains were opened. The lamps were lit. The smell of Blue Decay had faded completely, replaced by the warm, familiar scent of home. Servants moved quietly through the halls, preparing food and cleaning up the chaos that had accumulated during the week of worry.

The 13th Unit was together again, and their youngest member was alive. That was enough. For now, it was enough. Iris stood on the balcony outside her study, looking out over the estate grounds. The moon was full and bright, casting a silver light over the garden and the distant rooftops of the capital city. The night air was cool on her face, and she breathed it in deeply, letting the tension of the past week drain from her shoulders one breath at a time. She heard footsteps behind her.

Not the soft, careful steps of Naomi or the heavy, deliberate steps of Zinia. These were lighter, almost casual, the steps of someone who had nowhere in particular to be and no particular reason to be quiet about it. Ken leaned against the railing beside her. His cheap suit was still filthy, and he had not bothered to change or wash up. He looked like a stray cat that had been caught in a storm and decided it was not worth the effort to shake itself dry.

His hair was sticking up at odd angles, and there was a smudge of dirt across his nose that he seemed completely unaware of. Nice night, Ken said. It is, Iris agreed. She glanced at him. Thank you, Ken. For coming to the jungle. For everything. I mostly complained and tripped over things, Ken pointed out. You did all the actual work. I was just there for moral support. And by moral support, I mean I lowered morale significantly with my whining. Iris almost smiled. Almost. You are too modest.

I am really not, Ken said. You have seen me. Modesty requires effort. Effort is my sworn enemy. We have been at war for years, and I am losing.