CH1357 · Rewrite
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Chapter 1357: Combined Rescue

Five days later, Seagull landed at Neverwinter’s Aerial Knight Academy.

Tilly stepped off with Nana beside her. For once she bypassed the question about her special plane entirely, her voice quick with urgency: “Are we too late?”

The iron tower project’s code tables were still incomplete, which meant the prepared Aerial Knights had gone to Thorn Town for hands-on training rather than remaining at Neverwinter. Flying messengers were the fastest communication available. The round trip between the two kingdoms — four days out, one back — was not slow by any ordinary measure, but in a medical emergency it was an eternity.

“No,” Roland said. “You arrived at exactly the right time.”

“Really — good, that’s good—” Tilly exhaled. “We should probably have an Aerial Knight student patrol Neverwinter on a regular basis. A situation like this shouldn’t catch us off guard again.” She straightened up. “Oh — who’s injured?”

Roland opened his mouth and closed it.

Flying messengers could only carry so much detail. He hadn’t explained the particulars, had only asked Tilly to bring Nana back to Neverwinter. Now she was asking directly, and the honest answer was difficult to produce.

“Someone,” he said carefully, “who doesn’t exist in this world.”

Tilly’s expression settled into a very particular stillness. “You’re talking about someone in the Dream World.”

As expected of Princess Tilly. He coughed twice. “That’s almost right.”

“Then say so plainly, and don’t dance around it.” She rolled her eyes. “What — were you afraid we’d be angry to find out we traveled over a thousand kilometers for an imaginary person in a dream world?”

“You hit it exactly,” Nana said.

“You don’t have to agree out loud even if you guessed correctly,” Wendy laughed, shaking her head.

Roland looked at the three of them.

“Feeling guilty is a good thing, Brother.” Tilly reached up and poked him in the chest. “But you’re underestimating all of us. If it’s something you’ve decided needs doing — no matter how unreasonable it sounds — we’ll act first and ask questions after. Now.” She planted her feet. “What comes next?”

This counts as trust, I think.

He pressed one hand briefly to the top of Tilly’s head. “Back to the castle. Scroll is there waiting.”


With the preparations properly in hand, Nana produced a substantial pile of enchanted sutures. Her theory held: the sutures would trigger healing merely from proximity to a wound; no surgical skill required to place them. The only complication was extraction afterward — loose sutures left in place could create new problems — but that was a problem for after.

The sutures could not travel from reality to the Dream World by themselves, but Scroll’s Archives could make the crossing. Under that arrangement Scroll had to enter and exit the Realm of Mind repeatedly to accumulate a sufficient quantity; Nana, relieved of the effort of delivering them personally, could preserve her magic power and attach it to the other medical equipment that would be needed later.

Five days of preparation in Neverwinter amounted to an instant in the Dream World.

This particular asymmetry might well have been noticed by Zero or Valkries by now, Roland reflected — but he was too occupied to linger on it.

Once everything was in place, Roland took a breath, nodded to Scroll and the others, and closed his eyes.

The familiar disorientation, and then the bridge.

Fei Yuhan lay exactly as he had left her. Zero’s face when she saw him was all held breath and urgency; she grabbed his sleeve before he’d fully oriented himself. “Uncle — is there a way to save her?”

Time had resumed the moment he returned. He did not explain; he pulled out his phone and called Garcia.

The Martial Arts Contest was finished. Garcia was most likely back at the apartments by now.

The call connected almost immediately. “Hey, what is it?”

“Where are you?”

“Out.”

His stomach dropped. “Why aren’t you at home?” If Garcia wasn’t close, the contingency plan — contacting the Defender, moving through official channels — would take far more time, and might not produce the right outcome anyway.

“What is wrong with your attitude — I’m buying food downstairs, can’t I?”

The relief arrived like a physical thing. “Then you’re inside the residential estate. Do you have your car keys?”

“Obviously.” The irritation was audible. “What’s your point?”

He coughed once and made his voice steady. “Listen carefully. I have a life-and-death request, and only you can fulfill it.”

A pause. The irritation dissolved. “Does it have to be over the phone?”

“Yes. No time. Drive immediately to Six Li Pavilion — two streets away — and find a woman named Scroll. She’ll be waiting on the road; you won’t miss her. Pick her up and bring her to the western suburbs expressway — where I am right now. Normally that’s a thirty-minute drive. I don’t have thirty minutes. I need you to make it as fast as you possibly can, and I’ll take responsibility for everything. Please — move now.”

A silence on the other end. Two seconds, maybe three. Then the sound of running footsteps. “You don’t have time to explain at all?”

“No.”

“All right. If I arrive and this isn’t as urgent as it sounds, you know what that means for you. And you owe me.” The car engine turned over and the line went dead.

Roland dialed Defender Rock’s number.

He condensed it to the essential facts: Fei Yuhan was severely injured, in need of emergency surgery and the best medical equipment the Association could field. An associate was also bringing critical materials to the scene. If the Association could coordinate with the Public Roads Department to clear Garcia’s path, that would help significantly.

Rock agreed and went directly to the department. Roland understood that government response without prior channels was improbable; whether Garcia arrived in time depended largely on Garcia.

He checked the time and put the phone away.

Five minutes spent on calls. Nothing now but waiting.

One advantage: winter kept traffic light, especially in the suburbs. Outside of peak hours, a van driven by Garcia at maximum urgency had a real chance.

“Uncle — Master — she can’t hold on—!” Zero’s voice cracked through his thoughts.

He crossed to Fei Yuhan in two strides. Her chest, which had been moving in shallow increments, was still.

“Heart and breathing stopped.” Valkries frowned. “I don’t know what you’re attempting, but I think you may be too late.”

“No.” Roland set his hand against Fei Yuhan’s forehead. “We’re already at this stage. She didn’t fight her way through that just to give up here.”

He had read the research: brain function could persist after the body failed — as little as ten seconds, as much as several minutes, the activity during that window resembling REM sleep. How long the window held depended on many things. For determination, it was fortunate that the genius Martial Artist was known for nothing so much as that.

Ten minutes and twenty-five seconds later, he heard it: a car, at the far end of the bridge, moving fast.

He looked up.

The old vehicle blew through the light and stopped in front of the three of them.

“Your Majesty!” Scroll threw open the door and pushed a paper bag toward him.

Roland tore it open without addressing Zero’s expression or Garcia’s, and began distributing the enchanted sutures across Fei Yuhan’s body.

“Are those — enchanted objects made by a witch?” Valkries watched with a deep furrow between her brows.

“Yes. As long as they take effect, they can save a person even at the final edge.” He kept placing them, working quickly.

Nana’s power crossed the boundary between worlds and reached the body of a girl who had never been born in either of them. From Fei Yuhan’s wounds came sounds that had no clean name — not healing and not injury, but the body remembering its shape, flesh and organ rebinding under the influence of something that operated by principles Roland could not have explained to anyone in the room.

They waited.

More than ten minutes.

Then, small enough to miss: a single thump.

Another.

Fei Yuhan’s chest began to rise and fall again.

It was the most beautiful thing anyone on that bridge had heard.

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