The beautiful woman floating above the devastation, the Healing Saintess, didn't wait for a response.
With a graceful sweep of her hands, a torrent of ethereal white-gold light streamed from her palms. This light instantly fragmented into hundreds of delicate, luminous threads, descending upon the battlefield like threads of a benevolent spiderweb.
These light-threads connected to every fallen, injured, and exhausted soldier of the Unified Race—from the bruised Aura Warriors to the shattered mages.
Mana, pure and revitalizing, flowed out of the Saintess and through the ethereal network, surging into the bodies of the defenders.
One after another, the soldiers whizzed and gasped for breath, pushing themselves up from the ground.
Their shallow cuts closed, broken bones knitted, and the agonizing exhaustion drained away.
The flow of healing culminated in the small group around Storm. Kane, Seraphina, and Rhys sat bolt upright, their eyes wide with renewed strength.
