Roland extended his left hand, channeling the remaining Blessing into Hela's body.
The shackles binding her hands had already been dismantled. As the Blessing surged into her, the dark elements that had been floating beside her went wild, flooding into her body. Under Roland's guidance, they not only healed her completely but also pushed her into the threshold of a mage apprentice. With just a bit of study in the arcane arts, she'd soon be capable of advancing to a First Circle Mage.
As for Freyana, Roland did no such thing.
The Blessings of the Death Plane were a taint upon the Silver blood legacy. For someone of her lineage, accepting such a thing would be a desecration. If Roland forced it upon her, the Silver blood clan might very well execute her in secret for bearing the stench of undeath.
After a brief moment of consideration, Roland withdrew the Blessing he had intended for her. Instead, he placed his right hand over her heart, and a simple runic formation began to glow beneath his palm.
Water elements in the air gathered swiftly, transforming into magical energy as they flowed through the runic formation and into her body.
Under the formation's stimulation, Freyana's latent potential already on the verge of awakening unlocked on its own. Silver light surged from within her, gradually enveloping her entire body.
Before the light completely cocooned her, Roland dispersed the runic formation and used the last bit of his Blessing to erase any trace of its presence.
This kind of formation, designed to awaken latent gifts, was something she would invent herself in the future. But the Silver bloods of today had nothing like it. If they discovered it had already been used, the Seven Great Silver blood Houses would never let him go.
Fortunately, with the Blessing masking any residue, unless a Ninth Circle Seer came sniffing around, he'd remain undiscovered.
Roland cast a quick glance at the glowing Freyana, then at Hela beside her.
Freyana didn't need his concern. As one of the Silver blood heirs, someone would come looking for her. The noise caused by the sacrificial ritual alone was enough to draw attention from the clan. They'd be here soon.
But Hela…
He sighed. Might as well see it through to the end.
After all, they were both orphans now, completely alone. Roland had memories of a past life, so living independently was manageable. But Hela? She was still just a young girl. Without someone to care for her, she wouldn't last long in the polar lands. One snowstorm could easily end her life.
Even if the Silver bloods wouldn't harm a child, they certainly wouldn't take in someone attuned to dark elements.
Roland stepped forward and gently picked her up. Cradling her in his arms, he walked out of the room and conjured an elemental shield to ward off the storm.
Then he cast a cantrip, summoning a faint breeze to erase his tracks within the room.
And so, braving the icy winds with Hela in his arms, Roland walked barefoot through the snow, one slow step at a time, until the storm buried his footprints behind him.
Less than ten minutes after Roland's departure, the thunder of hooves approached. A squad of more than thirty knights arrived on the scene in haste.
Without hesitation, they stormed into the house.
The moment their commander saw the glowing white light, his face lit up with joy. He didn't even bother to investigate the aftermath of the ritual. Instead, he immediately ordered the knights to secure and protect Freyana.
In a sparsely decorated room with a rough, rugged design...
Roland sat calmly at a wooden table, drawing runes on a piece of beast-hide parchment with a brush made of animal hair.
A First Circle Mage wasn't exactly safe in the Northlands. At best, it allowed one to survive with difficulty.
Roland wasn't particularly concerned about common folk or rogue spellcasters of the First or Second Circle. But if he provoked the kingdom's official forces or the military, he stood no chance with his current strength.
Which is why, using knowledge from his previous life, he began crafting Second and Third Circle spell scrolls for emergency use. It was the smartest way to survive.
Lower-tier scrolls didn't require rare materials. With Roland's skill, even common ingredients could be turned into something useful.
As for the money needed to buy supplies and rent a room, some generous locals had kindly offered assistance after seeing a "helpless young boy" alone in the world.
While Roland worked, Hela lay on a nearby bed, her eyes fluttering faintly before she slowly opened them.
She stared blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling. The soft sound of the brush on parchment made her instinctively turn her head toward Roland.
She looked at him without emotion, then turned back toward the ceiling, her gaze vacant.
With the final stroke, Roland put down the brush. He pricked his right index finger, letting a drop of blood fall onto the scroll.
The moment the blood touched the parchment, the runes drawn in beast blood briefly shimmered, linked together, and then faded into stillness.
A Second Circle scroll was complete.
Roland tucked it away and looked toward the bed.
"You're awake?"
Hela gave no response, her hollow eyes still fixed on the ceiling.
Roland sighed but said nothing more as he quietly stepped out of the room.
Less than three minutes later, he returned with a meal.
He walked to the bed and placed the food on the nightstand.
Two slices of black bread, two pieces of meat, a scoop of stewed beans, and a few pieces of vegetable.
Roland pulled up a chair and sat beside her. Staring into her lifeless eyes, he felt helpless. He wasn't a therapist. He had no idea how to handle this kind of trauma.
Was there a spell that could help?
Yes. One came to mind.
From the school of mind manipulation: First Circle spell Forced Calm.
Without hesitation, Roland placed his right index finger on Hela's forehead. The spell activated instantly and settled into her consciousness.
As the magic took effect, a glimmer of awareness returned to her eyes. Her mind, which had nearly shut down, began to function again.
The ritual. The sounds. The visions before she lost consciousness it all came flooding back.
She also noticed changes in her body. She felt stronger. And within her flowed a strange and unfamiliar power.
Turning her head, Hela met Roland's gaze with calm, steady eyes.
The image of the boy who had stood atop the altar, red eyes cold as ice, overlapped with the one in front of her now the same boy, with gray eyes and a gentle smile.
Then she heard his voice, low and almost seductive, whisper into her ear.
"Do you want revenge?"
The moment the words entered her ears, her vision swam.