The scent of warm water and alchemical salts filled the bathroom, mixing with the faint traces of lingering sweat. The bath was designed for rejuvenation—scalding hot at first, then rapidly cooled, forcing the muscles to adjust, to recover, to harden.
Damien sat in the water, arms resting against the edge of the tub, his breathing even, steady. The bruises from earlier had already begun to fade, the healing potion doing its work beneath the surface of his skin.
Elysia stood nearby, her posture as composed as ever, but her sharp green eyes never left him. She was assessing. Calculating.
How much had he lost now?
In just over a week, his form had changed drastically. The layers of fat that once buried his body were melting away, leaving behind something strange—halfway between ruin and renewal. His skin, now loose and wrinkled in places, hung from his frame unnaturally, a consequence of rapid weight loss beyond anything normal.
And yet, he never stopped.
Never hesitated.
