The victory celebration lasted exactly twelve minutes.
That's how long it took for Jonas to collapse. The militiaman had taken a hit to the ribs during the fight—nobody had noticed the cracked leather armor, the slow seep of blood. He'd hidden it, soldier's pride, until his face went gray and he hit the dirt.
"Medic!" Will shouted, catching his cousin. "We need a healer!"
Allen knelt beside Jonas. The system interface showed the damage: [Internal Bleeding, HP Drain -2/min]. No village skill could fix this. Tilly's poultices stopped infection, but they didn't knit torn arteries. Gray could repair armor, not anatomy.
"We don't have anyone," Lina said, her voice tight. She was already digging through her pack for bandages that wouldn't help. "Old Mae knows herbs, but this is—"
"Magic," Allen finished. He stood up, looking at the treeline. "We need a magic user. A proper healer."
As if summoned by the word, the forest stirred.
A figure stumbled out of the shadows between the pines. Tall, thin, wearing robes that had once been fine silk but were now torn and mud-stained. Pointed ears. Elven. She leaned on a staff made of white wood, its crystal tip flickering with erratic blue light.
[Entity Detected: Ella] [Race: High Elf] [Class: Adept (Level 8)] [Status: Mana Depletion, Spatial Disorientation, Minor Concussion] [Background Tag: Magical Experiment Failure - Dimensional Anchor Lost]
She looked young. Twenty, maybe. Allen knew better than to trust elven aging. She could be eighty.
The elf stopped ten feet from the village gate, staring at the dead orcs. Then at Allen. Her eyes were violet, bloodshot, exhausted. "You have dead men walking," she said. Her voice sounded like she'd gargled glass. "Two of them. Four minutes until critical."
"Can you fix them?" Allen asked. No time for niceties.
"Can I—" She laughed, a broken sound. "I'm an Adept. I can fix a shattered femur with a whisper. But I require compensation."
Classic. Allen had interviewed enough contractors to recognize the dance. "Name your price."
Ella straightened, some of the exhaustion dropping away, replaced by professional calculation. She pointed her staff at the largest building—the new smithy. "That structure. Convert the upper floor into a laboratory. Stone tables. Rune-etched walls. Ventilation for fume management. A Magic Tower, Administrator. That's my signing bonus."
Lina made a strangled noise. "We just built that!"
"Equity versus salary," Allen said, holding up a hand to quiet her. He stepped closer to Ella. She smelled like ozone and burned hair. "You want infrastructure investment upfront. I want operational contribution ongoing. Let's negotiate."
Ella's eyebrow arched. "You know business terminology."
"I know that a Level 8 Adept doesn't wander lost in the woods without resources unless she's burned bridges somewhere," Allen said. "Experiment gone wrong. Dimensional anchor lost. You're running from a mistake, not toward opportunity. That makes you a distressed asset."
The elf's jaw tightened. "Crass."
"Accurate," Allen countered. "Here's the deal. The Magic Tower gets built. Stone, runes, ventilation, the works. Three hundred development points, probably two weeks of construction. That's your equity stake—the physical asset. In exchange, you don't get a salary. You get percentage shares. Ten percent of all mana potion production we create using your methods. Five percent of any magical artifacts we loot that you identify or enhance. And full R&D budget allocation—ten percent of our monthly resource income goes to your experiments, no questions asked."
Ella stared at him. "You want me as a partner, not a servant."
"CSO," Allen said. "Chief Science Officer. You run the Magic Division. You report to me, but you have autonomy within your budget. And you heal my men. Right now."
She looked at Jonas, who was turning blue around the lips. She looked at Will, who was holding him, desperation in every line of his body. She looked back at Allen.
"Fifteen percent of mana potions," Ella said. "And I want a signing bonus of three gold coins. I'm hungry."
"Twelve percent," Allen shot back. "And one gold coin now, two when the Tower foundation is laid. Plus meals and lodging."
"Done." Ella stepped forward, her staff brightening. "Move him to flat ground. And someone fetch me water. This will drain my reserves, and I don't work dehydrated."
They laid Jonas out in the center of the village. Ella knelt, her robes pooling in the dirt, and placed both hands on the militiaman's chest. She whispered something in a language that made Allen's teeth hurt. Blue light flooded Jonas's torso, visible even through his skin.
[Healing Spell: Major Arterial Repair] [MP Cost: 45/80] [Effect: Internal bleeding stopped, HP restored to 45/60]
Jonas gasped, his eyes flying open. He sat up, coughing, touching his ribs in wonder. "It doesn't hurt."
"Next," Ella said, already turning to check Will for the cuts he'd hidden. "And someone start drawing up blueprints for my Tower. I want south-facing windows. Morning light is best for transmutation circles."
Allen watched her work, adding her to his mental org chart. He now had a magic department.