The real work was only just beginning.
Lina’s body was covered almost entirely in dark, reddish burn scars—wounds that self-healing magic could never repair.
Self-recovery magic could only mend “one’s own wounds.” Yet from my own experience, even when skin had been completely stripped away, it could still be restored without a trace. The mana was likely reshaping itself to match the wound and filling the gap. That was why eating enough allowed the treatment to continue. The reason I had survived three years of meals with no concern for nutritional balance was that the food I consumed had been converted into mana, and that mana had then become flesh and blood. The reconstruction followed the “Original Form” the body remembered. It might have been more accurate to call it the soul.
I also knew from experience that once a wound had scarred over, cutting out the damaged section and using recovery magic would only restore it in its scarred state. I suspected that after enough time, the body updated its “Original Form 《Soul》.” How long that took, I didn’t know. According to what I had heard, if a severed limb was treated soon enough and the original piece was available, recovery magic could restore it.
The question was how to trick that mechanism.
Something from the far edge of my previous-life memories had caught my attention: skin grafting. The technique of harvesting skin from one’s own body—or someone else’s—and transplanting it onto the injured area. The story of that famous unlicensed doctor.
I would do the same. I would cut away a piece of my own skin, apply it to Lina, and then cast recovery magic. I hypothesized that my “Original Form 《Soul》” would remain in the skin for a short time immediately after being severed.
After that, I would use magic to make the body believe “this is a fresh wound that was just inflicted on Lina.” The recovery process would then swap “Lina’s Original Form 《Soul》” with “my Original Form 《Soul》.”
If it worked, the burn scars should heal not as scar tissue, but as my own skin.
Even that would be a vast improvement over her current condition.
Still, I wondered what would happen if “Lina’s Original Form 《Soul》” retained any regenerative power. Might it blend my soul with hers, drawing the healing trigger from mine and the true shape from hers to restore her properly?
——I knew this was an extremely forced method. Yet within the limits of what I could imagine, it was the only path available.
There was one more thing I had to steel myself for.
When Big Sister Therese had healed me, the pain had been excruciating. If my magic was imitating that spell, the same agony would surely run through Lina’s body.
Beside the bed lay the leather strap and bite guard I had asked Mira to prepare—the same ones used that day.
The thought of tying down a child’s body made me hesitate, but it was better than letting her bite her tongue. Convincing myself of that, I decided not to restrain her immediately. I would start with the smallest possible test to see whether the pain would be too much.
I readjusted my grip on the knife. Today it would not be just a fingertip.
I laid the blade flat against the epidermis of my left forearm—thin, shallow, a single layer.
There was a moment of hesitation. But when I looked into Lina’s eyes, my resolve hardened.
I held my breath and drew the blade.
“Ugh…”
A sharp pain flared as a thin flake of skin peeled away onto the edge of the knife. Blood began to seep from the surface of my forearm.
I gently pinched the peeled skin between my fingertips. It was thin and fragile; its warmth faded almost instantly. Recovery magic activated on its own, and the wound closed at once.
On Lina’s left forearm—where dark reddish burn scars stretched from elbow to wrist—I carefully laid the skin fragment onto a single spot, pressing it down as if covering the wound.
I then placed my right hand gently over it.
I activated recovery magic.
As always, mana flowed into Lina. This time, however, I shifted the focus of my consciousness. ——This thin piece of skin beneath my hand is part of Lina’s wound. It is a fresh fragment that was peeled from her body only moments ago, a piece that had just lost its connection.
I convinced myself of that.
A green light appeared. The edge of the skin fragment faintly blurred, melting into the burn scar beneath it. I felt resistance, as though the mana was being repelled. With delicate yet powerful control, I poured in more mana—forcefully expelling only the scar tissue while keeping the recovery magic active.
I caught my breath.
The green light concentrated at that single point. The dark reddish color unraveled and receded, revealing translucent white skin underneath. It was only the size of a small coin. Truly tiny.
——But the old scar had definitely healed.
Relief washed over me. I had feared I might need to cut Lina’s own skin as well. I wouldn’t have to hurt her any further. That realization filled me with joy.
Lina’s eyes fell upon my left forearm.
The moment they caught the small patch of reborn white skin, her eyes flew wide open.
Those empty eyes that had stared at nothing but a single point on the ceiling for days were now clearly focused on that coin-sized patch of white. Her shallow breathing caught in the back of her throat. Her eyelashes trembled as she blinked again and again. It was the look of someone witnessing something impossible.
Then her gaze slowly shifted.
To my face.
My face must have been deathly pale from the bleeding and the pain of having my skin shaved away.
“Are you okay? Did it hurt?”
When I asked, she gave a small shake of her head. I felt a surge of relief at the thought that we might not need the leather strap and bite guard after all.
Still carrying the aftershocks of her surprise, Lina parted her dry lips.
“…Why?”
It was the first time I had heard her speak in the form of a real question.
Her voice was thin and childlike, yet it was unmistakably directed at me.
I smiled faintly and answered.
“…Because I wanted to save you 《myself》.”
It seemed as though light had returned to the depths of Lina’s once-empty eyes.
◇◇◇
I washed the blood from my hands in the bucket I had prepared. The reddish, clouded water was poured down the toilet in the next room to destroy the evidence. I opened the window to air out the metallic smell, then left the annex. As I did, footsteps approached from the direction of the courtyard.
It was Mira, fresh from her training. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead.
The moment she saw my face, her steps halted.
“——Lord Rein. Your complexion…”
Tension threaded through Mira’s voice.
“I’m fine,” I said as lightly as possible.
“I just used a little too much mana. Don’t worry about it.”
In truth, healing even that tiny area had required far more mana than ordinary recovery magic would have consumed.
Yet the lie sent a sharp pang through my chest.
“——I will support you back to your room.”
Without waiting for a reply, Mira stepped beside me. She drew my arm over her shoulder, wrapped her free hand around my waist, and pressed her body firmly against mine.
Her body, still hot from training, radiated warmth even through her clothes. The faint scent of her sweat brushed my nose. With every step, the soft swell of her chest pressed against my side. Her body heat slowly seeped into me through our thin layers of fabric.
I mustn’t let Mira worry.
As we walked, I absentmindedly reminded myself that I would need to increase my food intake.
◇◇◇
The following morning.
On my way to Lina’s annex, I replayed the previous day’s treatment in my mind.
The coin-sized patch of white skin. The old scar had truly healed there. There was no longer any doubt that the magic had been successfully deceived.
One question still remained, however: the issue of the “standard” for regeneration.
Had the transplanted skin settled as “my Original Form”? Or had it been reconstructed into “Lina’s healed Original Form”? Because I had applied forearm skin to forearm skin the day before, I couldn’t tell.
I sat down beside the bed and looked at the tips of Lina’s fingers. The burns had completely erased her fingerprints.
I would transplant skin taken from my forearm here. If the graft retained its original properties, the smooth skin from my forearm would remain on her fingertip. But if it reproduced Lina’s true form——then her own fingerprints should return.
Holding my breath, I laid the blade flat against my left forearm once more—thin, shallow, a single layer.
I gently placed the peeled skin onto the burn scar on Lina’s fingertip, laid my hand over it, and activated the magic.
Green light pulsed. The boundary blurred and vanished. The dark reddish skin receded, revealing a small white fingertip—and upon it, delicate swirling lines.
Fingerprints. They were unmistakably Lina’s own, patterns that had never existed on my forearm.
——The magic was drawing its healing factor from “my Original Form” while simultaneously restoring “Lina’s Original Form” and shaping the result to match it.
“Good… Now I can heal Lina completely.”
I murmured the words and slowly exhaled.
After finishing the treatment, I stepped out into the corridor.
Even with my head still light from blood loss, one thought drifted through my mind:
——This is different from any known form of recovery magic.
Ordinary recovery magic was said to stimulate the patient’s natural self-healing to close fresh wounds. The Saint’s Regeneration Magic restored the patient’s “Ideal Form,” allowing it to heal even lost limbs and old scars.
But what I was doing was neither.
——Transplant Magic.
I decided to call it that.
Simply giving it a name made the path ahead feel clearer. Though my body felt terrible, my spirits were bright.