And so, with hopes in our hearts and plans in our minds, we began to wait for the commoner in charge of Hector's care.

We didn't just sit quietly; we talked about many topics related to ourselves. I even managed to sneak in a few meditation sessions to develop my mana sense.

As the day progressed, the light stopped penetrating through the disheveled wood of the equally disheveled building we were confined to. We decided to sleep early, considering that whoever was in charge of changing the bandages might wake up before us and tend to Hector while we would still be asleep. Though I envied Hector a little, sleeping on a chair again was doing unfavorable things to my back.

The next day, I woke up to find nothing had changed. Hector is still asleep, confined to his bed. His bandages, tinted brown from dried blood, confirmed to me that no one had changed them during the night.

I woke Hector up, and after some waiting, the door finally swung open, and I saw the face of one of the commoners that were playing cards whilst I was getting dragged inside.

The man tranced up to Hector and started to look at his bandages, as his hands were about to touch them I spoke up: “Wait, what are you doing!?”.

The man looks at me frustrated and states: “Shut up, you have no right to talk to me like that.”.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say commoner, but I don’t want to see my friend die at your hands.”, I state with a slightly frustrated tone.

The commoner looks at me with equal frustration and slight indignance and asks, ”What do you want?”.

“Well, let me ask you something first, what are you doing?”.

“I’m changing his bandages.” he states with a further frustrated tone, a bit of anger showing through his meager mind.

“Yes, and why are you doing so?”.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Because I was told to.” The commoner answers building upon his rotten tone.

“By who?”.

“That’s none of your business, now let me get on with my job.”.

“None of my business? The state and care of my friend are at stake, and you dare tell me such a stupid statement!?”.

“I know who told you that, it was the one that captured me wasn’t it.”.

“Yes, and he knows better, so shut the fuck up and let me do my job.”, he continues reaching to Hector’s bandages.

“Hush, your filthy mouth welp, what you are going to do now will hinder his recovery not aid it.”.

The commoner asks, “What does that even mean? I am just switching cloth.”.

I heavily sigh, “Oh, you idiotic commoners, do you not know of the healing spirits?”.

“Of course, I know of them, but I was specifically tasked with changing the bandages, it will not be my failure if the actions instructed to me by the boss don’t work out, now hush that noble mouth of yours before I force out a couple of teeth.”.

“You are wrong, I know that man, his word is as strong as his spine, if he finds that my friend died in your care you won’t be left with a good fate. So trust in a nobles word and leave Hector be.”.

“The boss is also a noble, and I for one find him a lot more trustworthy than whoever the hell you are.”.

I chuckle, “ ‘The boss’ is no noble, if he were, then he wouldn’t be doing something so stupid as kidnapping me and my friend, he knows nothing of medicine or magic, trust in me and do as I say, besides, why would I ever want to hurt my ally.”, Hector nods along to my comment.

The commoner looks at Hector suspiciously, after which he sighs and shrugs, he turns around and starts leaving, adding a quick “I don’t get paid enough for this.” whilst on his way.

He exits and slams the creaky door shut. I sigh in relief, and Hector sighs along with me. Thank goodness these people are stupid. I chuckle to myself, Healing spirits, what a silly myth.

Healing spirits don’t exist, of course. It’s a widespread myth among the commoners, the origins of which are unknown and widely speculated. Some nobles believe that enemy spies spread the tale among the populace to undermine the great empire. Others think it was concocted by the empire itself to control its population.

According to the myth, when someone is wounded, invisible spirits are sent by the gods to aid in their recovery. The wound should not be touched, cleaned, or maintained, as the spirits need space to perform their healing. If these conditions are not met, the spirits will become enraged and return to the land of the gods, leaving the person cursed with an unhealing wound.