"Marcus!"
Korman rushed within a blink and arrived before his nephew's broken figure, quickly assessing his condition. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, checking for broken bones, internal bleeding, spiritual damage. The damage was extensive—but not fatal.
A healing vial appeared within his hand. It was a high-grade elixir, its contents shimmering with a soft, golden light. He quickly administered treatment, pouring the liquid between Marcus's lips, stabilizing his condition and allowing him to regain consciousness.
Marcus's eyes fluttered open. They were unfocused, dazed—but they held a flicker of awareness. His injuries would require more time and rest before he could be restored to prime condition, but for now, he was alive.
Korman flew back and stood at the edge of the airship with Marcus in his arms. His expression was unreadable—but his pale blue eyes burned with cold fury and dawning fear.
