I Received System to Become Dragonborn-Chapter 777: To Heal Quickly

After finishing the "printing" process, Erend was immediately reminded of the current state of the Palace — still in chaos. The King was resting in the healing chamber along with Aerchon. Saeldir, the Archmage and the person Erend should be discussing this kind of thing with, was still bedridden as well.

With things like this, all Erend could do was wait. Wait until everyone was better before revealing what he had discovered.

That should be fine… right? Erend thought, frowning slightly as he considered whether there was anything urgent he needed to report. But in the end, nothing came to mind. Nothing that couldn't wait.

He sighed and turned to look outside through the cracked window, feeling the warmth of sunlight against his skin. Maybe now's the time for the Palace to finally feel peace. To breathe.

---

King Gulben had his eyes closed — but not because he was asleep. He was gathering the ambient Magic energy around him, channeling it to accelerate his recovery.

He couldn't afford to simply lie in this bed. He needed to get back on his feet, there was too much left to do. The Palace and his people needed him.

Though his consciousness had returned, he wasn't aware of what was happening around him. His focus was entirely on drawing in and circulating the Magic energy.

The healers tending to both him and Aerchon could feel the change. There was a distinct flow of Magic radiating around the King, evidence of what he was doing.

But they didn't stop their work. They let King Gulben continue his recovery while they kept replacing the cloth on his arms and administering nutrient-rich fluids.

The black mist seeping from his wounds had grown thicker and darker almost as if it was being forcefully expelled by the King himself.

The healers exchanged glances, then looked over at Aerchon, who still lay unconscious and weak, completely unaware of his surroundings.

"If only Prince Aerchon could regain consciousness," said one of the healers, a young Elf woman. "He might be able to do what the King is doing and accelerate his healing."

"You don't realize how hard it is just to survive after something like that," another healer beside her said sharply. She was a little older, and her tone was firm.

"I-I apologize," the younger healer stammered.

The older healer let out a breath. "Prince Aerchon took that powerful attack directly to the chest. We still don't know what kind of energy Laston used, but it was devastating. Like I said, the fact that Prince Aerchon is even alive after taking that hit is a miracle on its own."

Silence fell over the room. The truth of her words weighed heavily on them all.

"All we can do is hope for the best, and give our best," the older healer added softly. "Let's continue."

The healers returned to their work, continuing to give the highest level of care to the leaders of the Elf Palace, and to the son who had fought so fiercely to protect it.

---

Meanwhile, in another chamber tucked away in the heart of the Palace, Saeldir lay sprawled across a cot with his robes half torn and stained with dried blood and soot.

The scent of burned cloth and iron still clung faintly to him as if the battle had only just ended.

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Two healers stood beside him now, hands extended as soft green-white light pulsed from their palms, washing over his chest and limbs.

The glow shimmered faintly, seeping into his skin, knitting wounds, mending ruptured vessels, calming frayed nerves.

But the Archmage still grimaced. His face twisted into a mask of discomfort, teeth clenched, groans slipping past his lips with every shallow breath.

Pain still crawled through every inch of his body. Not too sharp but heavy, the kind that made even the smallest movement feel like dragging stone. The kind that came not only from injury but from exhaustion that ran deep into the soul.

He had fought tirelessly again and again. And now, finally, Saeldir realized he had pushed beyond his limits a long time ago.

Before this chaos, Saeldir had often fought from a distance. He would stand far from the battlefield and casting precise spells, his Magic weaving through the air. It was enough then. His mind had always been his weapon.

But this time... it hadn't been enough.

Against Laston, he'd had no choice but to act directly and to fight with his own hands, to cast not with calculation but desperation. Face to face and blow for blow with his enemy.

He had flung spells in rapid succession, barriers raised and broken in seconds, spells fired off faster than he'd ever attempted. His hands still trembled from the strain.

It reminded him of another time — the day he stood against one of the Harbingers of Doom from the Great Calamity. That had been a battle carved into his memory.

He fought alongside Adrius, the human Archmage of Astoria. Together, they had dismantled the creature's form with relentless force.

He had won, both of that battles. Somehow.

But now, lying here, every breath tight in his chest, Saeldir truly felt how close he had come to death, especially when facing Laston.

He blinked up at the ceiling above him. There was a fine crack there, a small sliver in the stone, nothing more than a scratch. But somehow, in this moment, it felt like a mirror of himself. Cracked, but not yet broken.

The healers whispered to one another in low tones, concern flickering in their eyes. But they didn't stop the spellwork.

Saeldir closed his eyes for a moment, letting the light of their Magic soak into him. His thoughts drifted, slow and thick.

"I need to recover quickly.We will need answers after the battle. The traitor has given us another king of power that derived from our Magic. Something we can't yet name. I'm sure it will make great chance to the kingdom."

Driven by that thoughts, Saeldir now more motivated to become healthier quickly. So with effort, he immediately aborbing Magic energy to heal himself faster.

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