It felt like an eternity.
In truth, only fifteen minutes had passed.
Fifteen minutes since Ceres's green spirit magic had begun repairing the damaged mana pathways in Ulrich's severed arm.
Fifteen minutes since the amber vines of the Thornbreath Curse had emerged beneath that healing light and begun drawing his arm back toward his body.
This was not a physician stitching flesh with thread.
It was not a clean surgical procedure.
Ceres was using the curse itself to bind the arm back into place.
The Thornbreath's amber tendrils moved through muscle, bone, nerves, and mana pathways with a frightening precision. At the same time, the green spirit magic repaired the damaged channels, rebuilding the routes through which Ulrich's mana would need to flow.
It was an extraordinary process.
And it was dangerously difficult.
Ceres had never attempted anything like it before.
