Fortunately, Barbara did not let him down. She provided the cure immediately:
"The [Divine Art: Hymn of Life] you’ve comprehended is capable of healing soul damage. Since your body was reconstructed by that being, you should be able to withstand the backlash of casting a Divine Art without it being fatal."
She paused, then added, "Even though you can currently exert less than one-hundred-thousandth of its true power, it should be enough to repair the soul of a mere Sequence 6."
Without a moment's hesitation, Eros began channeling the [Hymn of Life].
A tiny, pea-sized spark of emerald light flickered at his fingertip. Following his command, it drifted into Estelle’s body. The moment the spell connected, the magical backlash hit Eros like a tidal wave, plunging him into an immediate, deep unconsciousness.
This time, the coma lasted far longer than his previous brush with backlash. During his baptism, he had still carried vestiges of the Elven God’s divine energy, which had shielded him from the brunt of the impact. But more than a year had passed, and that residual power had long since evaporated.
As a result, Eros remained bedridden for an entire month. By the time he could even twitch a finger, the enrollment deadline for the Holy Academy had long since passed. Fortunately, as members of the privileged class, "going through the back door" wouldn't be much of an issue.
Feeling his body so frail that even walking was an ordeal, Eros clicked his tongue. The price for using a skill so far above his level was steeper than he had imagined.
Barbara, however, remained indifferent. "What did you expect? Using a spell one or two sequences above your own is enough to leave a person half-dead. You jumped several tiers to use a Divine Art. The fact that you didn't disintegrate on the spot is proof of a god's favor."
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But looking at the fully recovered Estelle and feeling her warm embrace, Eros felt it was all worth it. A month in a coma was a small price to pay.
When he had first woken up in his room and found it empty, he had dragged his weak frame into the living room, where he found Estelle sitting in somber silence, her face etched with worry. The moment she saw him, she lunged forward, pulling him into a crushing hug.
Tears fell like rain from her beautiful eyes, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank goodness you’re alright... Thank goodness. Promise me, Eros! Never be so reckless again!"
She would rather have died from her wounds than see her child suffer to save her.
A month ago, when she had woken up with her soul restored only to find Eros lying on the floor, his life signs flickering, she had nearly suffered a heart attack. It was common knowledge that the severity of magical backlash was tied to the gap in sequences. A spell capable of mending a soul was of an unimaginably high tier; how could Eros, a mere Sequence 8, survive the recoil?
Fear, guilt, and despair had nearly consumed her. However, after a frantic examination, she found that while the backlash was severe, his life force hadn't been extinguished. That discovery brought a joy so overwhelming it bordered on madness. She had spent a fortune procuring the rarest alchemical potions to treat magical backlash, which allowed Eros to wake up in just one month.
Eros patted Estelle’s trembling shoulder, his tone light and airy. "Easy now, Mom. I’m fine, see? I’m all back together."
"But tell me," Eros shifted the subject, his eyes narrowing with curiosity, "what exactly happened? How did your soul get partially erased?"
Estelle’s expression dimmed. She went silent for a moment before shaking her head. "I... I can’t remember. That part of my memory was erased along with that fragment of my soul."
"I only have a vague memory of seeing Elsa. Then, I must have triggered the Gate of the Spirit Realm. The next thing I knew, I was being spat out of the Domain of Sin by the Gate."
The Gate of the Spirit Realm? Eros blinked. He had heard of this particular ancestral Forbidden Artifact before.
