"Hero, please wait just a moment longer. I’d like to cleanse some toxins from my body first—this might help the Sacred Healing work better."

Sylvia, having just unlocked High-tier Sacred Healing, no longer dwelled on the mechanics of Cinder Points. A new idea sparked in her mind, and she felt eager to try it.

"Archangel, are you planning to use the Sacred Healing on yourself? Then I shall stand guard right beside you," Kroso replied without objection. Of course he wouldn’t—this was the Archangel, bearer of the Body of Holy Spirit. How could healing possibly fail her? Reassured, he settled nearby to observe. After all, even he had never witnessed the Archangel casting this spell before.

"I’ll begin now…"

No dazzling light show followed. Sylvia simply pressed her palms together over her chest, closed her eyes, and began a silent chant.

*Hum…*

Beneath her feet, a small, intricately patterned circle of pure white light slowly emerged with a soft hum. The gentle radiance rose steadily, enveloping her entire body.

*So warm…*

Bathed in the High-tier Sacred Healing, Sylvia felt utterly comforted. Yet the toxins within showed no sign of receding. In her mind’s eye, the healing light and the dark, dense mist clashed fiercely. The black expanse seemed endless—how many layers did this poison even have? She watched the light strain upward, layer by layer. If it proved too strong, she’d retreat early.

Suddenly, a wisp of dark mist—eerily similar to the toxin inside her—appeared on her otherwise calm interface. Startled, Sylvia froze. *What is this? Could the toxin attack my status interface directly?* Absurd… yet this world had already twisted canon beyond recognition. Still, the mist emitted no threat. *Should be safe… right?*

Beneath it, emerald text flickered into view:

[Click the simulated toxin mist to check layers.]

*Huh?*

The font matched her interface exactly. Had her thoughts just been materialized? *So it responds to intent… not just decoration after all.*

"Just a click?" Slightly relieved, she tapped the mist’s center.

*Crack… crack…*

A sharp shattering echoed in her skull the instant her finger lifted.

*What—?*

*Pop!*

The interface’s center splintered without warning. From the fissure, the harmless-looking mist burst forth, flashed her a mocking grimace, and lunged at the data fields—not tearing, *devouring*.

In a blink, her magic stat plummeted from 70 to 68. The High-tier Sacred Healing collapsed.

"Ah!"

*No!*

The moment she heard the pop, dread seized her. She watched, helpless, as her hard-earned magic drained away. *What kind of prompt was that?! This toxin’s sentient—it tricked me into disabling the interface!*

*My High-tier Sacred Healing…!*

Frustration clawed at her throat. *Damn it! Can toxins evolve this far?! Is this even fair?!*

*Ugh… Why did I trust that prompt?! I deserve a slap!*

*Damn it!*

As Sylvia screamed inwardly, the toxin surged back with vicious force. Icy cold flooded her limbs. She shuddered violently, words failing her, vision dimming.

*My defenses… shattered. Completely.*

*How could poison be this cunning?!*

*Hero’s hopes… what now…?*

Remorse for Kroso swelled in her fading consciousness.

*Hero… I’m sorry…*

"Archangel!"

Kroso’s blood ran cold. One moment Sylvia calmly maintained the healing array; the next, pain twisted her face and she collapsed forward. He lunged, catching her falling form.

"So cold!"

Even through two layers of clothing, her chill seeped into his arms. *How?!* Moments ago she stood serene, casting High-tier Sacred Healing. Now the array had vanished, her body trembling uncontrollably beneath the wool blanket he wrapped around her.

*Did the cleansing backfire?*

Panic tightened his chest. All his hope rested on her healing. If she fell again… could his mentor survive? He stared at her deathly pale face—*my fault*. She never needed to confront that poison head-on. He’d seen her weakening… yet clung to blind faith like a desperate believer.

*She collapsed… to honor my hope.*

*So the Archangel… isn’t a deity after all.*

Watching her brow furrow against the toxin’s torment, Kroso’s heart ached as if stabbed. *I owe you too much.*

*Archangel… please live.*

With that silent vow burning in his chest, Kroso lowered his head and gently pressed his lips to her pale, frozen ones.