The Legendary Mage novel Chapter 73

"How did you do it?" Carlys, as excited as she was, couldn't hide her amazement, which was no less than anyone else's. She knew Alavin had a strong gift, and she knew with the right opportunity, he could rise to power, but she hadn't expected him to be this powerful—almost unnaturally so.

According to previous expectations, Alavin was supposed to be able to fight bravely to the end, but that was meant to be his limit. Yet, he had managed to defeat Galos.

"What do you mean, how did I do it?"

"How did you as a Stage V defeat a Stage VII?"

"It must have been mostly skill, and Galos was careless."

Carlys smiled brightly. "This is the first time I've seen you wounded and not felt pity."

"These are just flesh wounds, no harm to the bone."

"How powerful is your Shadow Sabre?"

"About five thousand pounds of force, I'd say."

Carlys realized then why Alavin had prevailed. "Go rest up, I'll get some Pearlwort from Balder. Teehee, I bet three plants with him, at ten to one odds. He owes me thirty now."

"That many? Will he pay up?" Alavin chuckled.

Carlys winked playfully. "He definitely won't pay up in full, but we'll take what we can get."

"You keep them. The three plants are enough for me; don't forget, I'm still a servant, and not allowed to use Combat Magic or Elixir Herbs."

"I placed the bet in your name."

Alavin didn't dwell on his victory. After returning to the storeroom, he resumed his meditation, practicing the Restoration Mantra and absorbing the Restorative Aether from the world around him.

The second stage of the Restoration Mantra was now thoroughly learned, speeding his recovery exponentially. More than a dozen wounds healed visibly faster under the nourishment of the Restorative Aether.

Celesse only let Galos leave after his men delivered the Pearlwort, a show of strength that moved many.

When Galos left the Arena, he was nearly unconscious, and his arm was barely saved. Although this could draw the ire of the Grand Elder's faction, no one in Cobalt Strike would dare provoke Celesse.

The next morning, Odell, that bastard, brought a new list of tasks, deliberately increasing the 'quantity.'

After a night of rest and healing, Alavin's wounds had mostly mended. He carried stone urns around, delivering goods with no sign of yesterday's injuries and an air of calmness as if nothing had happened.

He was calm, but the other Protégés were not. Was this lad unkillable? He was wounded to that extent the day before, but how was he now as lively as ever? It seemed there was a reason he had not been broken by eight years of toil - he was incredibly resilient!