Time did not move loudly over Vanhart Estate.
It slid quietly, layer by layer, filtered through frost and muted winter sun.
For four days, dawn arrived grey.
For four days, dusk departed pale.
And through both—Kel breathed, worked, and moved with relentless precision.
No day differed much from the one before.
Yet every day was fundamentally different.
Day One of Four – Fire in the Veins
Morning.
Kel rose before the bells tolled. He walked the courtyard, aura sphere expanding until mist coiled around his boots like tendrils seeking warmth.
After breakfast, he stepped onto the fields, where Harlroot shoots now shimmered faint green-red under frost. His growth potion had begun its work—the plants no longer simply existed; they fought to thrive.
Workers lowered their gazes as he passed, sensing something in his silence that demanded both reverence and distance.
By midday, he stood again before Lysenne.
Her lips were tight. Pain still lived beneath her skin like hidden fire.
But unlike before—she braced.
Kel applied oil. His thumbs traced veins not yet awake. Then—
press.
Press.
Press.
Not aggressive.
Not gentle.
Precise.
Lysenne inhaled sharply.
He aligned her breath to his without speaking.
At the end of the session, her forehead damp with sweat, she whispered—
"…It hurts less."
Kel nodded once.
"Tomorrow, it will hurt differently."
She did not flinch.
Day Two – Bones Remembered Structure
Morning exercises etched frost into the earth beneath his steps.
Magic study accelerated. Flame obeyed faster. Wind sharpened. Water remained resistant, but he logged numeric recession rates without frustration.
In the field, Harroot leaves curled toward sunlight like creatures slowly waking from centuries of drowsiness. Farmers whispered prayers under their breath—not to gods, but to an unnamed young man who walked like inevitability.
Treatment room.
Today, Kel focused deeper.
Bone.
He pressed his palm to her shin.
Mana flowed like quiet fire beneath his skin.
Aura and magic overlapped precisely where they must never conflict.
She gasped.
He spoke.
"Focus downward. Feel the ground."
She nodded.
Eyes wet.
He continued.
A small crack—internal adjustment.
She froze.
"Don't tense," he said.
She exhaled.
Her shoulders dropped.
By evening, she looked exhausted.
But her spine straightened subtly.
She was sitting as if she might someday stand.
Day Three – Pulse of Blood
The morning was windless.
Aura training extended two minutes longer—Kel had reached a threshold. He adjusted his routine.
He visited fields again.
Not to observe.
To change irrigation lines.
No one questioned when he took tools himself.
Count Vanhart watched from afar.
Not with nobility's discomfort over labor—but with the eyes of a father who saw his land slowly breathe again.
Treatment.
Today—blood flow.
Kel had crafted a deep crimson stimulant from harlroot extract mixed with dilated snow essence. He warmed the oil between his fingers, sensed viscosity.
When he applied pressure across Lysenne's thigh—
Heat bloomed.
She startled.
He said nothing.
From behind him, Sairen whispered in thought.
That's too fast.
She can handle it.
On what certainty?
On her eyes.
Lysenne's teeth clenched, but she met Kel's gaze unflinchingly.
He intensified pressure.
Her fingers dug into the armrest.
Reina stood at the doorway silently, witnessing.
When it ended—
Lysenne was shaking.
Kel simply said—
"Tomorrow it will stabilize."
Lysenne nodded.
Only once.
Day Four – Muscle Weave and First Step Shadow
Before dawn, Kel's aura reached farther—just an inch more before contraction. The wind obeyed without command now.
He used mana to accelerate nutrient absorption in Harroot roots. Several leaves unfurled under his palm.
He studied magic further.
No incantation.
Just breath.
Flamma.
The flame appeared wordlessly.
Ventum.
Wind moved without sound.
Aquae.
Nothing.
He noted it.
Water resists. Prioritize later.
Afternoon.
Treatment.
Today was the day muscle threads reconnected.
The oil was richer, metallic in scent. He massaged each location with meticulous rhythm.
Slow.
Deeper.
Targeting fibers that had long surrendered function.
Lysenne's breath trembled, but Kel's hands remained steady.
Unwavering.
She said, through clenched teeth—
"You're frowning."
Kel paused faintly.
"I'm correcting pressure," he said.
"You look… worried."
His eyes lowered.
"…Not worried."
He resumed.
"Calculating."
Her answering laugh was breathless, strained—
But soft.
Reina watched from the hallway, leaning against the frame. Not intruding. Not intervening.
Just guarding.
When Kel finished, Lysenne didn't collapse this time.
She held herself.
He studied her posture.
"Stand," he said.
Reina straightened sharply.
Lysenne's eyes widened.
"Now?" her voice trembled.
Kel's gaze did not soften.
"Not to walk," he said. "To feel."
Silence.
She braced her palms on the arms of the chair.
Slowly, lifted herself—
For a fraction of a moment—
Her weight shifted.
Feet made contact with the floor, not as dead weight.
But as form receiving.
She trembled.
Kel shifted forward slightly.
Not to grab.
To ensure she learned the boundary.
"That's enough," he said.
She lowered herself back, tears just touching the corners of her eyes.
"I felt the floor," she whispered.
Kel nodded.
"You will stand fully in three days."
Sairen's presence whispered—
Confident. Or reckless?
Necessary.
Kel stepped back.
Lysenne whispered—
"…Thank you."
He shook his head.
"Not yet."
Then left the chamber.
Reina stepped inside just as the door closed.
Lysenne looked at her.
"I felt it," she said quietly.
Reina's jaw tensed.
Her voice came soft.
"…I know."
Outside, in the hall—
Kel leaned briefly against cold stone.
Not from weakness.
Not from fatigue.
From calculation.
Four days complete.
Treatment 62% complete.
His eyes lowered.
Three days to stand.
Four to walk.
Unknown number… to step into future.
The system pulsed softly in the edge of his vision.
Treatment Progress: 62.4% Pain Reduction Threshold: Optimal Bone Reconstruction: Completed Muscle-Weave Integration: Active Blood Channel Synchronization: 88% Estimated Recovery Completion: 72 hours Notice: 'Emotional Resonance' levels trending stable. Suitable for next phase.
Kel closed the system window.
He looked toward the distant courtyard where snow drifted.
"So…"
His voice barely audible.
"…tomorrow begins the part that breaks before mending."
And as he walked away—
The candle in the corridor flickered.
Not from wind.
From pressure.