(Third Person POV)
The VIP room of the Academy Hospital was now submerged in a suffocating silence.
Just an hour ago, this room was still filled with Duke Edwin's aura of power, Elena's political sharpness, and the naive courage of Arin who had just received his medical verdict with a smile. But now, after the noble entourage had gone home and the main patient had returned to his dormitory, all that remained was the cold skeleton of the room.
The sharp smell of antiseptic once again dominated the air, driving away the lingering scent of the nobles' expensive perfumes.
Doctor Edna stood in front of her messy desk. Piles of used bandages, empty medicine bottles, and remnants of bloody cotton were scattered there. Those objects became silent witnesses to the bone marrow extraction procedure that had changed everything.
Edna sighed deeply. Her shoulders slumped down as if the weight of her white coat had suddenly increased by ten kilograms. She took off her thick glasses, then massaged the bridge of her nose which throbbed painfully.
"Coffee..." she mumbled hoarsely. "I need something bitter to swallow all of this."
Her hands, which were usually steady when dissecting muscle, now trembled slightly as she reached for the water heating kettle. She poured instant coffee powder into a ceramic cup, then stirred it with a slow, mechanical movement. Her eyes stared at the black vortex inside the cup, yet her mind drifted far away to a piece of paper she had just crumpled and thrown into the trash bin in the corner of the room.
The letter from Ghislain. Arin's death sentence.
Click.
The sound of the door opening broke her daydream.
Edna did not turn her head. She knew who it was. Heavy footsteps with a military rhythm, yet this time sounding slightly hesitant.
"If you returned only to invite me to a romantic dinner, forget it, Karim," said Edna curtly without diverting her gaze from her coffee. She tried to put her cynical mask back on, a mask that protected her from emotional pain. "Remember your age. Remember your sweet daughter at home. Do not be an old flirt teasing a coworker during overtime."
Usually, Karim would reply with an annoyed snort or a counter-sarcasm about how expensive Edna's appetite was. That was the dynamic of their relationship, two lonely adults covering their care with petty bickering.
But this time, there was only silence.
Karim closed the door behind him. Then, with a slow and deliberate movement, he turned the door lock.
Click.
The sound of the turning key sounded incredibly loud in the quiet room. Edna stopped stirring her coffee. The small spoon clinked softly against the side of the cup.
Slowly, Edna turned her wheeled chair to face the door.
Karim stood there, still wearing his full instructor armor that reflected the magic lamp light dimly. His hard, square face full of battle scars looked ten years older than usual. His eyes, which usually radiated military firmness, were now dim, filled with shadows of an unhideable sorrow.
"I saw it, Edna," said Karim.
His voice was low, heavy, and straightforward. There was not the slightest joking tone.
Edna frowned, trying to maintain her starting-to-crack defense. Her heart pounded fast in panic.
"Saw what? The hospital bill?" Edna chuckled. A laugh that sounded fake and discordant. "Do not worry, Duke Edwin has guaranteed to pay it in full. We will get a huge bonus..."
"The second letter," interrupted Karim.
Edna's fake laugh died instantly.
Karim stepped forward. His iron boots thumped softly on the tiled floor. He stopped right in front of Edna's desk, looking down at the woman from a height.
"I stood behind you when you read it earlier. Do you think I am blind?" Karim pointed to his own eyes. "A knight's eyes are trained to read battlefield situations in a matter of seconds, Edna. Even Ghislain's chicken-scratch writing I could read at a glance."
Karim leaned his body forward, looking straight into Edna's starting-to-water green eyes.
"Three years," whispered Karim. "Not twelve years like you told Arin. That number is... three years."
Crash!
The coffee cup slipped from Edna's hand, falling to the floor and shattering into pieces. Hot black liquid soaked her white shoes, but Edna did not feel it.
Her mask shattered. Her emotional defenses completely crumbled.
Edna bowed her head, hiding her face behind her messy green hair. Her shoulders began to tremble. She could no longer hide behind sarcasm or greed.
"Yes..." Edna's voice broke, coming out as a painful whisper. "Three years. Maybe less."
Edna lifted her tear-soaked face. Her eyes were red, full of the fear she had swallowed alone all this time.
"The Mana Void metabolism in his body, it is not a gift, Karim. It is a hungry curse. Arin once drank the pure mana of a Silver Golem core raw. The Mana Void absorbed that pure energy even though his body could not tolerate it. As a result, his vitality continues to plummet, exceeding my initial diagnostic estimates."
Edna squeezed her white coat at the chest, as if her own heart ached.
"Every second, the Mana Void demands Arin to consume pure mana, but because the intake is not met, the Mana Void cuts his remaining lifespan itself. On the other hand, if Arin continues to consume pure mana to ease the Mana Void's hunger, then his physique will slowly be destroyed because it is not strong enough to withstand the pure mana toxin. Whichever path he chooses, it equates to a verdict of dying young."
Karim pulled the iron chair in front of Edna's desk, then dropped his large body into it heavily. His sturdy legs now felt weak. He cupped his face with both his rough and calloused hands.
"By the Gods..." muttered Karim through his fingers.
The image of his daughter learning magic at home flashed in Karim's mind. A little girl full of dreams. Then the image of Arin overlaid it. The stubborn boy who trained by hitting iron until his hands were destroyed and bloody. The boy who dissected monsters in the mud to survive. The boy who smiled proudly when his invented centrifuge machine successfully spun.
All that effort. All that sweat, blood, and broken bones.
Only to die before he could enjoy the fruits of his labor? Only to become a forgotten young corpse?
Karim lifted his face. His eyes reddened holding back anger at an unfair fate.
"Why did you not tell him, Edna?" asked Karim. His voice was hoarse yet demanding. "He has the right to know! This is his life! He has the right to choose how to spend that short remaining time!"
"And let him be destroyed?!"
Edna's scream exploded, echoing off the room's walls. She stood up, slamming the desk with both hands, paying no mind to the spilled coffee.
"Did you see his eyes earlier, Karim? Huh?!" Edna pointed toward the exit, toward the corridor where Arin had left full of spirit. "Did you see how they sparkled when talking about becoming strong? About the future? About his next experiments?"
Edna sobbed, her breath ragged. Tears flowed profusely down her gaunt cheeks.
"If I told him now... 'Hey Arin, congratulations you are strong, but you will die before graduating from the academy', that would kill his soul before his body dies! His hope would be extinguished. He would stop fighting and spend his remaining time lamenting his fate in the corner of his room!"
Edna wiped her face roughly using her lab coat sleeve, then looked at Karim with a darker gaze. The gaze of a woman who understood the cruelty of the noble world.
"And worse, Karim, you know who our boss is."
Duke Edwin Rhyms's name was unspoken, but his presence felt heavy in the room.
"If the Duke knew his investment asset had an expiration date that short... if he knew Arin would die in three years and could not be a long-term investment..." Edna swallowed saliva that tasted bitter. "The Duke would discard him. This very day."
Karim fell silent, his eyes widening realizing that horrifying truth.
"The Duke would withdraw all support, funding, and protection," continued Edna with a trembling voice. "Arin would lose his laboratory, his scholarship, and his political protection. He would die alone in a sewer, hunted by the vengeful Karl Benzzi, without having the chance to realize a single one of his dreams."
Edna looked at Karim with a pleading gaze.
"I lied to save his life, Karim. I lied so he would still have a roof over his head and hope inside his chest. Was... was I wrong?"
Karim bit his lower lip until it bled. That physical pain helped him stay sane.
He knew Edna was right. Noble politics was cruel and transactional. Arin was valued because of his potential. Without future potential, Arin was mere trash in the Duke's eyes.
Karim stood up, then walked approaching the still-sobbing Edna. His large, clumsy hand patted the doctor's shoulder gently.
"You were not wrong," whispered Karim. His voice was heavy. "Forgive me, I did not think that far ahead. Thank you... thank you for protecting him, Edna."
The atmosphere in the room became silent, filled only by Edna's stifled sobs. The woman who was usually the most materialistic, cynical, and fierce in the academy was now weeping bitterly for her poor student. Behind her obsession with money, lay the heart of a wounded healer.
Several minutes passed in sorrow.
Slowly, Edna's crying subsided. She took a deep breath, wiped away her tears, and adjusted her glasses. Remnants of sadness still lingered in her eyes, but now there was a new glint there. The stubborn glint of a scientist who refused to lose to data.
She took a blank prescription slip and a quill pen.
"I have not given up," said Edna firmly, though her voice was still nasal. "Ghislain surely has not given up either. That crazy old man will not let his favorite research subject just die like that."
The pen danced quickly over the paper, scribbling a series of medical hypotheses, chemical formulas, and clinical observation data she had gathered while treating Arin.
"Listen, Karim," said Edna while continuing to write quickly. "There is one anomaly I still cannot explain medically. Do you remember during the forest exam last semester? When Arin fought the Golem and Karl's group?"
Karim nodded, leaning his hips against the desk. "Yes. He drank something that made him go berserk."
"He drank liquefied Silver Golem Core," explained Edna. Her eyes flashed sharply. "It is a highly unstable concentrate of raw Mana and Life Force. Medically, an ordinary human drinking that should have exploded. Their heart should be instantly destroyed, blood vessels ruptured, and brain liquefied."
Edna stopped writing. She lifted the pen, staring at Karim with full intensity.
"But Arin did not explode. He absorbed it. His Mana Void body ate that pure life energy, using it to overclock his body and survive fatal wounds."
Edna folded the paper neatly, then inserted it into a thick medical envelope. She dripped red wax onto it and stamped it with her personal magic seal.
"If his body can process that toxic raw Life Stone, it means there is a mechanism inside his cells capable of manipulating external vitality. We just need to find a way to supply that 'extra life' in a stable and non-destructive manner."
Edna handed the letter to Karim. Her hand was steady, no longer trembling.
"Send this to Ghislain at the Northern Forest Laboratory. Right now. Do not use the regular postal route, it is too slow."
Edna looked into Karim's eyes.
"Tell him: 'Find out why Arin did not die when drinking that stone'. The answer is there. We might not be able to cure a Mana Void, but we might be able to give it fuel to keep living."
Karim took the letter. He felt the weight of that small paper. It was not merely a consultation letter; it was the only lifeline for their student.
Karim looked at Edna. In that woman's eyes, he no longer saw a doctor who always counted gold coins. He saw a mother fighting for her child.
"I understand," answered Karim. He tucked the letter beneath his armor, right near his heart, protecting it with his own life.
"I will deliver it myself. Tonight," promised Karim. He straightened his body, his Royal Knight aura returning. "Ghislain will read it before the sun rises. I will drag him from bed if necessary."
Karim turned and strode out into the cold night. His footsteps were heavy yet certain, carrying a thin hope amidst despair.
Edna watched him go, then sat back down in her cold chair. She stared at her broken coffee cup on the floor.
"Hold on, Arin," she whispered to the empty room.
(Meanwhile, at the Student Dormitory - Arin's Room)
In stark contrast to the sorrow in the hospital, Arin's dormitory room felt alive and full of spirit.
The crystal lamp on the study desk shone brightly, illuminating the scattered piles of books and notes. The room's atmosphere was warm, far from the drama and tears currently being shed for him elsewhere.
Arin sat in his hard wooden chair. His back was straight, his face fresh after a shower. He felt... strong.
Incredibly strong.
The bone marrow extraction surgery this afternoon was indeed painful, but its side effects felt extraordinary. He felt his blood flow smoother, his heart beat more powerfully, and his mind was clear.
"Incredible," mumbled Arin while clenching his fist and observing the bulging veins in his forearm. "My body feels lighter. It seems my adaptation to the serum is becoming more perfect."
He did not know that the feelings of 'light' and 'strong' were signs that his body's cells were working overtime burning his remaining life. He did not know that he was like a candle burning brightest right before it runs out.
Arin smiled broadly. A smile full of ambition and optimism that would be painful if anyone saw it right now.
He opened his thick leather notebook. There, a complex diagram of the human respiratory system combined with the structure of a piston engine was drawn. A blueprint of his breathing technique.
"Cardiovascular Breathing Technique: Stage 4," he read softly, tapping the pen against his chin. "Senior Aura is already stable. But to reach the Professional level, to be able to use Mana Redaction without destroying my own hands, I need a stronger heart. A heart that can vibrate at a high frequency."
He closed his notebook and shifted to another thick book he borrowed from the Third Floor Library: Encyclopedia of Dangerous Monsters: Apex Species.
He turned page after page enthusiastically. His eyes searched for something specific. Something strong, savage, and possessing limitless vitality.
His finger stopped on page two hundred and four.
A horrifying illustration of a wolf monster was drawn there. Its size was twice that of a regular Ancient Wolf. Its fur was not gray or black, but silvery white with natural red line patterns on its body, as if blood flowed outside its skin. Its eyes were depicted as wild and full of madness.
[Sigma Direwolf]
Classification: Tier 3 (Peak) - Approaching Tier 4. Habitat: Eternal Snow Mountains. Description: A rare mutated variant of the Wolf species. An Alpha that has eaten other Alphas and survived alone in exile. Possesses regeneration capabilities equivalent to a Troll and speed that surpasses ordinary human eyes. Legends say its heart beats twice as fast as normal monsters, giving it limitless stamina.
Arin's eyes sparkled with hunger. He saw that picture not as a threat, but as a staircase to the peak.
"High regeneration, super fast metabolism..." whispered Arin. His finger traced the picture of the monster's fangs. "This is it. This is the key to perfecting Piston Heart."
Arin picked up a red pen, then circled the wolf picture thickly and firmly.
He imagined his future. One more year, he would master Professional Aura. Two more years, maybe he could rival the Royal Knights. Five more years, who knows? Maybe he could become a legend like the Golden Knight he admired.
He had plenty of time. Or so he thought.
"Wait for me, Sigma," said Arin to the book. His voice was full of ironic determination. "I will hunt you. Your heart will be mine."
He closed the book with a firm thud, as if closing the seal on his own destiny.
Arin turned off the lamp, then moved to his bed. He lay down, staring at the room's ceiling with a satisfied smile. He planned his training for tomorrow morning, planning a long and glorious future.
Outside the window, the moon shone brightly, illuminating two contrasting scenes.
On one side, an instructor ran through the night carrying a desperate letter to save the life of his student who only had three years left.
On the other side, that student slept soundly, dreaming of conquering the world, unaware that he was sprinting toward the cliff of death with his eyes tightly closed.
And the hourglass on his bedside nightstand continued to let its sand slip away.
Swish... Swish...
The sand was running out. Very little left.