Spartan evaluated him.
Rank Four.
From the same realm.
Connected to his master's origin.
Acceptable. Not ideal, but acceptable.
The elf continued.
"He may observe the treatment. He may remain with the youth for the entire duration. He can also choose to intervene if necessary."
Her eyes flicked briefly back to Spartan.
"This is not a trap. Your master helped us, so treating him is only the right thing to do."
Spartan did not respond immediately.
He looked back at Michael.
His master lay unconscious, pale beneath the sky, surrounded by the undead who would gladly die a second time for him. The life worm rested quietly in Spartan's hand, reminding him that his master's body was stable, but that was not enough.
Spartan knew this.
Physical wounds could be endured.
Soul wounds were different.
Left untreated, they would follow Michael forever.
Spartan's fingers loosened slightly around the life worm.
Then he looked back at the elf.
"Will my master recover?" Spartan asked.
