Alpha Instinct

Chapter 57 - 57:

The battle ended, and a heavy silence fell, laden with consequences.

Mikaela, with visible effort, laid Leonard's unconscious body on the muddy grass, remnants of the storm that had passed. The cold, damp earth contrasted with the heat radiating from him, a residual, unnatural heat.

"What was that, Leo...?" The question, a whisper directed more to herself than to the unconscious Leonard, carried worry and a hint of admiration. A dangerous mixture.

Her own pain brought her back to reality. "I need to close this wound... fast..." The thought, urgent, echoed in her mind.

She'd lost a lot of blood, and weakness was starting to set in.

With a sigh, Mikaela focused. A silent prayer, a plea for help to the Goddess of Light. Her ELEV activated, and the ability flowed. It was "Holy Healing," a warm and comforting energy that emanated from her hands, now enveloped in a soft yellowish light.

Carefully, she placed her hands over the wound on her flank. The light penetrated her flesh, the pain diminishing as the tissues regenerated, the skin slowly closing.

"There... I think that should do it..." Her voice came out weak, almost a whisper. The effort of healing, combined with the blood loss, was taking its toll.

A weight, like lead, fell on her shoulders, and she knelt, her breathing uneven, gasping for air.

Shadows moved among the buildings near the Gothia gate.

Villagers, those who had hidden during the battle, cautiously emerged from their shelters. Others, attracted by the silence that replaced the clamor of the fight, approached. Their faces were marked by curiosity and apprehension.

"Madam, Saint, let us help." An elderly lady, her wrinkled face marked by years of hard work, extended her hand, offering support.

Mikaela accepted the help, grateful. Many knew her, the Saint of the Church of Light, the gentle and maternal figure who dedicated her life to helping those in need—an image far removed from the implacable warrior they had witnessed minutes before.

With the help of a strong farmer, who had witnessed the battle from a nearby hiding place, Leonard was carefully placed on the horse.

Mikaela groaned as she mounted behind him, a sharp pain reminding her of the wound.

"Kalendor," the sacred artifact sword, dissipated into the air, like dust carried by the wind, returning to the domain of the Goddess of Light. A divine weapon for times of extreme need.

Without giving any command, she simply pointed the horse in the direction of the main road, trusting the animal's instinct. She knew Leonard had come from the vicinity of Besen.

"Come on, boy, take us to Kaleb... take us home..." Mikaela gently patted the animal's neck, and her voice, although weak, carried a silent conviction.

The journey was marked by brief, tense pauses. Mikaela, guided more by necessity than by rest, chose strategic locations. A recess in the rock, partial shelter from the cutting wind. A grove of twisted trees, precarious camouflage against unwanted eyes.

Each stop, a ritual. First, Leonard. To accommodate him carefully, his body was inert, his breathing weak but regular. Clear signs that there was still life.

Food was scarce. A piece of dried meat, tough and salty. A handful of wild berries, which she collected when she could. She shared everything she found. Leonard was her priority; she crushed the berries and meat with a rock and fed him, making sure he ate.

Sitting, but never relaxed. Her eyes, restless, scanned the landscape,

It was just a rumor that an old wanderer named Saito was a primordial. But she didn't want to test her luck.

She activated her ability to see his power.

"An immensity of energy..." she thought.

Without hesitation, she knelt, the armor, previously a symbol of strength, now an uncomfortable weight. Her head bowed in a gesture of submission.

"Greetings to the Primordial of Life," said Mikaela, her voice firm but laden with an almost religious respect.