A real injury was the first step to overcoming the instinctive fear of magi.
However, there was one problem. This worked on other magi, but Caelen wasn't a normal magus.
He felt his heart thundering on his chest after he was injured.
The Barbarian Spirit.
It was the passive of the Crest of War. As soon as he was injured, it triggered, stabilizing his body.
If it hadn't activated, he might've collapsed or lost consciousness. But instead, the fear bled away, replaced with clarity—and danger.
Of course, this was bad. Caelen's thoughts snapped to Favia's warning.
Don't let it show.
He glanced at his left hand. The cloth bandage still covered the crest. Its light hadn't broken through. Not yet.
He took a sharp breath and tried to steady his pulse. If the crest activated fully, it would glow, and his secret would be out.
He didn't know if Favia could make it in time, even though she said she could.
The barbarian was also surprised. The newcomers usually went down after one hit.
But Caelen was still standing.
Of course, his job was helping Caelen. And the help came in the way of cutting him another injury.
So, the barbarian swung his sword once again.
Different angle. Same target.
This time, it was heading for the uninjured left side of Caelen's neck.
But Caelen was distracted, still wrestling his heartbeat into submission. His mind raced.
This, in turn, ignited Mental Overclock, Crest of Knowledge's passive ability.
Time slowed.
He was thinking four times as fast as normal. If Idel knew this, he would be shocked.
The first stage Crest of Knowledge could only provide up to two times faster thinking. But Caelen was at four times the speed.
This, in turn, caused time to slow down four times slower.
His thoughts focused like a sharpened blade.
First, the injury. It wasn't deep. The blood hadn't even dripped yet.
Since the body of a magus was more delicate than a barbarian's, the barbarian would try not to injure them deeply, assuming fragile skin and weak bones.
But since Caelen was also a barbarian under the robes, the softened attack caused only a shallower injury to him.
Good.
He exhaled mentally, keeping his breath steady.
Then, he focused on calming his raging heart. He knew it was a good thing, but now wasn't the time.
After two seconds had passed in real time, he was relaxed. His heartbeat slowed just enough. The red hue at the edge of his vision faded.
Then, lastly, Caelen focused on the two-handed sword's blade coming to the other side of his neck.
A mirrored cut.
Since he was calmed down, he knew what to do. He was ready this time. He cast the last spell in his arsenal.
It was an instant cast spell.
The sword reached him. And between blade and skin, a small bead of light shimmered to life.
It was barely the size of a thumb. But it held.
The sword struck the bead, and the bead struck Caelen's neck.
Of course, the barbarian had already begun slowing his swing, expecting another shallow wound. But it wasn't at a full stop yet.
Caelen flew sideways to the right from the force, tossed off his feet like a ragdoll, and landed hard on the stone floor.
His vision spun.
Then, darkness took him.
---
When Caelen woke up, he was lying on a bed with white sheets. The room around him was almost empty, just four plain walls and the faint scent of disinfectant.
"You're finally awake. You slept the whole night," a familiar voice said.
He turned his head and saw Favia sitting nearby.
"Favia?" he muttered, his voice hoarse. "What happened?"
"What do you think? You got hurt and passed out. But hey, you did well holding your Crest of War back."
She gave a small smile. "Even Aem didn't notice anything. He's the barbarian who, well... beat you."
Caelen groaned to himself, Can't you at least sugarcoat that a little?
"I see. But… I don't feel any different. Does this really work?"
Favia laughed. "What, you thought it'd be a one-time thing? No way. You're going back every other day."
"What?" Caelen's stomach twisted. Every other day? That was worse than anything he'd imagined.
He'd trained with Taek before—his master had been strict, relentless even—but Taek had never cut him.
"Wait—my injuries!" He shot up and touched both sides of his neck, fingers searching for scars.
"Relax. We've got healers too. Not the best, but good enough."
Caelen finally let out a breath. But something still felt off.
He glanced down, lifted the thin sheet covering him—and immediately shouted, "Where are my clothes!?"
"Ah, those." Favia tilted her head. "We had to take them off. Since you blocked the second hit, you didn't get another neck wound—but the impact broke a few bones. Needed to patch you up."
His face turned pale. "Who took them off?"
Favia gave him a teasing look. "What would you think if I said I did?"
Caelen's face went bright red.
Favia grinned. "I'm kidding. Relax. You're fine, it wasn't me. Anyway, get dressed. We've got things to do."
Caelen realized he could sit up without any real pain, but he stayed still for a second longer, watching her.
"Alright, alright, I'm going," she said with a sigh, standing up. "Come out once you're dressed."
She left, the door clicking softly behind her.