It had been three years since I reincarnated into Luminarca. I was now eighteen years old, and I had mastered every spell I learned at a god-tier level. Normally, most mages only reach this level after decades of rigorous training. Even Zenita only managed to achieve it after 28 years. But I advanced at an extraordinary pace. I had also mastered every technique in swordsmanship, honing my skills to perfection. Yet, my training was far from over. Three trials awaited me.
The first trial required me to visit a clinic in the city to heal people. This task would test my mastery of healing magic. The second and third trials were duels—one against Zenita and the other against Fidelis. These duels would challenge my combat skills and my ability to handle pressure in real-time conflict. Each task would push me to my limits, but I felt ready.
"Excuse me," Fidelis said as he entered my room.
"Good morning, Shinya. Are you ready to see the city today?" he asked with a smile. He could sense my excitement—it would be my first time seeing the city up close.
Until now, I had only observed the city from the cathedral. From that vantage point, it stretched out like a jewel, its gleaming rooftops and bustling streets radiating vitality in the daylight. At night, it transformed into a shimmering sea of light, with lanterns and torches casting a soft glow that made the city appear alive, even in the darkness.
Seeing the city from afar always thrilled me. It was so lively, so full of life. But it had always been a place I observed from a distance. Today, I would finally walk its streets, hear its sounds, and breathe in the energy I had only imagined until now.
"I’ve been looking forward to this," I said with a smile, feeling the anticipation rising within me.
"I'm glad to hear that," Fidelis replied with a grin. "After Oscard's trial, you'll spend a few days exploring the city with me." His grin widened, as if he was just as eager for this adventure as I was.
"Really?" I exclaimed, unable to contain my excitement. "Thank you so much, Fidelis!" Without thinking, I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly.
For a moment, I felt him freeze; it was clear he was surprised by my sudden gesture. But after a brief hesitation, he relaxed and let out a soft chuckle. I felt his large hand gently ruffle my hair.
"Alright, alright," he said warmly, his voice soft. "There's no need to thank me so much, Shinya. Family does these things for each other."
As I held him, a wave of affection surged within me, and my eyes suddenly welled up with tears. "I... I don’t know what I would do without you, Fidelis," I said, my voice trembling. "You've done so much for me in this world. Without you, I would have been lost and helpless."
I buried my face into his shoulder, trying to contain the flood of emotions. His warmth enveloped me, and I could feel the strength emanating from his embrace.
"You’ve been by my side every step of the way," I continued, my voice choked with emotion. "You taught me how to defend myself, how to be more than I thought I could be. When I felt lost, you gave me hope. I just—"
"Shh, it’s okay," he whispered, pulling me closer. "You’re never alone, Shinya. No matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side. We’re in this together, and I promise to help you every step of the way."
His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, and I felt the weight of my past lifting off my shoulders. At that moment, I realized I had found not just a mentor or a friend, but someone who truly cared for me—like family. As long as he was by my side, I couldn’t help but feel I could face any challenge that lay ahead.
As the warmth of the moment settled around us, I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. Just then, Fidelis cleared his throat, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Ahem, Shinya, we need to have breakfast. Let’s go," he said, a playful smile dancing on his lips.
I pulled back and wiped the tears from my eyes. I felt a little embarrassed but still deeply grateful. Fidelis was the older brother I had always wanted but never had—someone to guide me, support me, and share in my struggles. Without him, I would have felt utterly alone and helpless in this vast new world.
"Yes, breakfast sounds great," I replied, smiling through the remnants of my emotional moment. Together, we made our way to the dining area, the warmth of our earlier conversation lingering in the air as we prepared to start the day.
As we moved away from the cathedral, we arrived at the entrance gate, where a guard greeted us. "It’s good to see you again, Oscard-dono, Fidelis-dono," he said.
The guard was tall, and his armor stood out as quite distinctive. Adorned with the grand emblem of Ardoria—a majestic, lion-like creature symbolizing strength and nobility—it gleamed under the sunlight. The armor was a deep, royal green, the signature color of the royal family, and adorned with gold embellishments that beautifully caught the light. His posture was confident, exuding pride in his role.
"It’s good to see you too, Marlone," Fidelis replied, his face lighting up with a warm smile.
Turning to me, Fidelis gestured toward the guard. "Shinya, this is Marlone, the captain of the royal guards for the eastern region."
I nodded enthusiastically. "It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Shinya Kage, a healing student under Oscard-sama." I introduced myself this way to avoid revealing too much about my background or my role as a commander candidate. For now, I was just a healing student.
"The pleasure is mine, Shinya-dono," Marlone said, his tone friendly and welcoming. His demeanor put me at ease, and as we stood at the gate, I felt a budding sense of camaraderie between us.
"We’re heading to Paul’s clinic," Oscard said, displaying his usual grumpy demeanor. He resembled a man long defeated by the burdens of old age; his brows were perpetually furrowed, and his lips always seemed pursed, as if the world around him constantly annoyed him.
"Of course, Oscard-dono. I’ll assign two guards to escort you," Marlone replied. "Henry! Izabella! Please accompany these gentlemen to Paul’s clinic," he ordered. The guards saluted sharply, and we continued on our way to the clinic.
As I walked through the streets, I couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling growing inside me. This place bore no resemblance to the city I had imagined. The vibrant colors I had seen from a distance had faded into dull grays and browns. The grand structures I had admired from afar were replaced by crumbling buildings and alleyways filled with trash. The air carried a pungent mix of decay and despair that was impossible to ignore, and my stomach churned.
Looking around, my heart grew heavier with each sight. Beggars huddled in corners, their faces pale and hollow, their eyes pleading silently for mercy. Some were wrapped in tattered blankets, while others simply sat motionless, their bodies too weak to move. It felt as if ignoring them was an unspoken rule—one that had made them blend invisibly into the bustling world around them.
This was not the Ardoria I had imagined. My heart ached for the people trapped in this cycle of hopelessness. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized how easily someone could be consumed by this darkness. This was a side of the city I had never wanted to see—a harsh reminder of the struggles so many faced every single day.
I turned to Fidelis, my confusion clear on my face. “Why is Ardoria like this? I thought it was supposed to be a great city.”
Fidelis sighed, his expression growing serious. “Ardoria is divided into four regions, each with its own characteristics. For example, this eastern region…” He gestured around us, the weight of his words sinking in.
“…has always been like this. Crime, poverty, despair—it’s a breeding ground for suffering. The kingdom pays little attention to it,” he said, his voice heavy. “Every race living here struggles to survive. It’s as if they’ve been abandoned.”
I continued looking around, my heart aching for the people trapped in this cycle of misery. “But how can they just ignore this?” I asked.
Fidelis continued, “There’s a massive gate that prevents people from the eastern region from entering the others. It keeps them out, creating a barrier between the wealthy and the poor.” His words made me realize how cruelly the city was divided.
The sight before me tugged painfully at my chest. “How did these people end up like this?” I asked, my voice wavering between frustration and anger.
Fidelis took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the beggars. “Some fell into debt, others are here as punishment for crimes. But most of them… they’ve done nothing wrong. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. This city crushes the powerless, Shinya.”
“They’re nothing but creatures. Their deaths would benefit Luminarca more,” Oscard said coldly.
I froze for a moment, clenching my fists. This man had no sense of empathy or compassion.
“What about the other regions?” I asked, eager to understand more about this city’s dark reality.
“The western region is where the wealthy families, the royal palace, and many lords reside,” Fidelis said, his voice taking on an admiring tone. “It’s prosperous and affluent. Schools, academies, guild centers… that’s where the heart of opportunity beats.”
The image I conjured in my mind was entirely different from the hopeless world I now stood in. “It sounds like a paradise compared to this,” I said, my voice tinged with bitterness.
“Yes, it does,” Fidelis agreed. “Then there’s the southern region, the heart of commerce. It’s a bustling place filled with merchants from all over and an array of goods. People thrive there with ease.”
“And the northern side?” I asked, eager to piece together the puzzle of this city.
“The northern region is farmland. Its fertile lands supply food for the entire kingdom,” he said, his gaze distant. “Every district has its role, but the eastern side… it has always suffered the most.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of injustice settle heavily on my shoulders like a cold burden. “It’s heartbreaking,” I whispered. “How can they allow this to continue?”
A shadow passed over Fidelis’s eyes. “Sometimes, people choose to ignore what they don’t want to see. But change is possible.” He looked at me, his gaze shining with determination. “And perhaps that change starts with us.”
As we continued walking, the atmosphere grew even heavier. Murmurs and the clinking sound of metal caught my attention. When I turned to look, I saw a crowd gathered around a makeshift market. My heart began to race—it was a slave market.
The scene before me was heart-wrenching. Rows of people were displayed in chains, the cuffs around their wrists clinking ominously with every movement. This market was a cruel mosaic of suffering across all races: elves with delicate features and pointed ears, humans of various skin tones, beastmen with animalistic tails and ears, broad-built dwarves, and demons. Their faces were pale, their eyes filled with fear. Some wore tattered clothes that barely shielded them from the elements, while others were completely bare, their shame exposed for all to see.
The despair etched into their expressions tore at me. Most stood silently, as if bracing themselves for the worst. In one corner, I locked eyes with a little girl who couldn’t have been older than eight. Her hair was matted, her cheeks smeared with dirt. She stared blankly at the ground, her tiny hands clutching the chains that bound her as though they were the only thing anchoring her to reality.
Nearby, a man was shouting, trying to sell a boy who couldn’t have been more than ten years old. The child’s large eyes darted across the crowd, searching for a glimmer of hope or a means of escape; all he found was a sea of indifferent faces. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, a wave of anger and sadness washing over me.
This scene was a stark reminder of Ardoria’s dark side—a nightmare unfolding before my eyes. I wanted to look away, to shield myself from the brutal reality in front of me, but I couldn’t. Every face told a story of loss and despair, a striking contrast to the vibrant beauty I had seen from the cathedral’s heights. This was a world where hope had withered, and cruelty and neglect reigned supreme.
As we moved through the crowd, the weight of the sights I had witnessed still bore heavily on my shoulders. Then, something caught my eye in a far corner of the market. A girl from the beastmen race leaned against a wooden post of a nearby stall. She was demi-human, demi-wolf; her silver-gray hair cascaded down her back, complementing her long tail of the same hue. Despite the grime and filth, there was an undeniable elegance about her. Her dark black eyes were quiet yet piercing, radiating a natural nobility.
Beside her stood a younger girl, a small wolf-girl with dark brown hair. Her large eyes were filled with fear, and her petite frame clung tightly to the older girl. I guessed the silver-haired one was her sister. Both looked utterly wretched; the slave collars around their necks were stark reminders of the brutal world they were trapped in.
For a brief moment, my gaze met the gray-haired wolf girl’s. Her eyes bore into mine, a crushing mix of sorrow and resilience. In that instant, time seemed to freeze, and the chaotic noise of the market faded away. A warmth bloomed in my chest, as if something deep within me had stirred. A tingling sensation spread throughout my body, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. It was both thrilling and unnerving, as though an invisible force had filled the space between us, binding us together in a way I couldn’t explain.
I stood there, frozen, unable to look away. It felt as though the world around us had dissolved, leaving only the two of us in that singular moment. My emotions surged—a mixture of compassion, sorrow, and an unexplainable connection. But just as quickly as it had formed, the moment shattered, and the noise of the slave market crashed back in, dragging me into its harsh reality.
Her expression shifted; a flicker of hope and recognition crossed her face but was quickly extinguished by the mercilessness of her situation. I gulped hard, burning with the desire to help her. But the harsh truth that I could do nothing at this moment gnawed at me. I wanted to reach out, to break the chains that bound her, but it was impossible—at least for now. All I could do was take a deep breath and etch her image into my mind. Forgetting her beauty would be impossible for me.
Finally, we arrived at the clinic. The modest building was a stark contrast to the surrounding dilapidated structures. While the homes in the eastern region crumbled from neglect, the clinic appeared relatively well-maintained and clean. Its walls were painted a soft white, and a small garden in the front struggled to survive against the region’s harsh conditions.
As soon as I stepped inside, I was struck by the atmosphere. A faint floral scent lingered in the air, perhaps an attempt to create a more welcoming environment. The expressions on the faces of the patients sitting on wooden benches lining the walls reflected a wavering tide between hope and despair.
The waiting area was packed; some sat nursing their wounds, while others stood, their tired and pain-filled eyes fixed ahead. The elderly were frail and worn, while wide-eyed children clung tightly to their parents, fear etched into their faces. A woman cradled her bleeding arm, hunched over in pain, while a man with tattered, stained clothing leaned heavily against the wall.
This clinic was a fragile beacon of relief in a sea of suffering, its humble walls sheltering the broken and weary from the harsh world outside.
What struck me most was the diversity of the patients. People from every race were here—humans, elves, dwarves, beastmen, and even demons. Each bore the marks of their own struggles, yet they were united in their need for care. Some patients were visibly ill, coughing weakly or clutching their stomachs. The clinic might not have been perfect, but compared to the chaos outside, it felt like a sanctuary. It carried an air of dedication and a certain cleanliness, a glimmer of hope for wounded souls.
As I observed the scene, my heart ached for those waiting here. This was a bitter reminder of the harsh struggles hidden within the city I had once imagined as a paradise.
"Welcome back to the clinic, Oscard-dono," said a woman who appeared to be a nurse. Her soft brown hair was tied neatly in a practical bun, and she wore a crisp white apron over her simple dress. Her warm hazel eyes radiated kindness.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
"It's good to see you again, Luna," Oscard replied, his usually stern demeanor softening with a rare smile.
"And this must be the healer apprentice you mentioned in your letter," Luna said, turning her attention to me. "It's a pleasure to meet you! I'm Luna, Healer Paul's nurse." Her voice was gentle, and her smile was genuine, exuding a sense of calm and reassurance amidst the chaos of the clinic.
"The pleasure is mine. Shinya Kage," I introduced myself.
"I’ll take you to Paul. Please follow me," Luna said, leading us deeper into the clinic.
As we approached Paul's room, a man’s loud cry echoed down the corridor. Luna knocked on the door, and Paul called us in.
When I stepped into the room, Paul’s appearance surprised me. He was an elf who looked young, with sharp features and tousled blonde hair framing his face. His emerald-green eyes were intensely focused on the patient before him, radiating deep compassion and skill. Despite his youthful appearance, he carried an air of authority forged through experience. He wore a simple tunic and trousers, with a well-worn leather apron—testament to his hands-on approach to healing. The atmosphere in the room was tense and urgent as he worked diligently to ease the patient’s pain.
The patient on the table was a pale, sweat-drenched middle-aged man. A thick bandage wrapped around the stump where his right arm had tragically been lost. Paul’s hands glowed with a warm light as he tended to the wound with healing magic. Despite his efforts, the man let out a groan of pain, his eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and gratitude. Paul murmured incantations, trying to alleviate the man’s pain and stabilize his condition, his focus unbroken.
The scene was both harrowing and awe-inspiring—a stark reminder of the brutal realities the city’s residents faced and the tireless dedication of those who worked to heal them.
"How are you feeling now?" Paul asked the patient, his voice soft and reassuring, cutting through the tension in the room.
The man struggled to hold back tears as his gaze fell to the empty space where his arm had once been. "My arm..." he whispered, the weight of his loss settling over him like a heavy stone.
"I’m so sorry," Paul said, his face etched with deep sorrow. "This is all I can do for you. Only someone capable of god-level magic can restore a lost limb. Unfortunately, that’s beyond my abilities at the moment." His words were laden with grief, as though he carried the burden of every patient’s pain on his shoulders.
The patient took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting a mixture of acceptance and despair. "It's fine. You saved my life. Thank you," he said, his voice trembling yet filled with gratitude. Despite the tremor, a faint smile broke through his pain, a reflection of the relief that he had been spared a fate far worse than losing his arm.
Watching the man struggle to come to terms with the absence of his arm sparked a sense of urgency within me. I felt a deep desire to help him, to somehow restore what he had lost. Witnessing such an unjust situation ignited a fire in me; I wished for the power to heal those suffering around me. I couldn’t just stand idly by—I wanted to make a difference for him and for everyone enduring pain.
"I can help!" I said, my voice ringing out louder than I intended. Instantly, all eyes turned to me. For a brief moment, I felt a wave of tension, but the urge to assist overpowered any hesitation.
"Please, do whatever you can," Paul said, hope flickering in his emerald eyes. My heart raced as I approached the man. "May I remove the bandage?" I asked, seeking permission to assess the extent of the wound.
"Yes, please, fix my arm," the man replied desperately, his voice heavy with pain. I carefully began unwrapping the bandage, each layer revealing more of the harsh reality of his injury.
When I finally saw his arm, it felt as though my heart might stop. There was no visible wound, yet my gaze froze on the severed area where his elbow had once been. A wave of sorrow washed over me; it was a stark reminder of life's fragility. I felt a deep ache in my chest, knowing that this man’s life had been irrevocably changed. Desperately, I wanted to help him reclaim what he had lost, to ease his pain as much as I could.
Gathering all my focus, I steeled myself against the weight of the moment. Closing my eyes, I began casting a healing spell. This wasn’t an ordinary healing incantation—I needed to use a powerful variant to perfectly restore a lost limb.
"O Light that illuminates our souls,
that mends what is broken and returns what is lost,
may your grace flow into this body.
Help the wounded, rekindle hope,
banish pain, and restore with your strength. Heal!"
As I recited the incantation, I imagined the flow of magic surrounding me, a living energy vibrating with every word. In the vision of my mind, I saw the man’s arm slowly regenerating—the flesh knitting together, the muscles weaving themselves into place under a glowing, restorative light. A resonance of belief pulsed within me. I knew that imagination was critical to effective spellcasting, and so I poured my heart into the spell, imbuing it with clarity and strength. The connection between my intent and the magic was vital, bridging the chasm between loss and restoration.
When I opened my eyes, I saw that the man's arm had been fully restored. He swung it around, fingers trembling with astonishment and uncertainty. Suddenly, he threw his arms around me, tears streaming down his face. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, sir!" he cried, his voice shaking with emotion. A wave of relief washed over me; indeed, his arm had returned.
I glanced around the room and noticed the shock on Paul and Luna's faces, their eyes wide in disbelief. Meanwhile, Fidelis wore a proud expression, much like that of a father witnessing his child's extraordinary achievement. I almost heard him quietly say, "Well done."
"I am glad to see your arm healed. Please be more careful next time," I said, smiling at the man.
"I don’t know how to repay you," he replied, his gratitude clear in his voice.
"I was just doing my job," I reassured him. He bowed his head in gratitude and left the room.
"You must be Shinya," Paul said with a warm smile. "My name is Paul. I’ve been the healer here for twenty years."
"Twenty years?" I exclaimed in surprise. "That's such a long time! How old are you, Paul-san?"
"Please just call me Paul. I’m 148 years old," he replied.
I was even more surprised at his age, then remembered that he was an elf. Of course, elves tend to live much longer lives.
"I’m just 18," I said.
"To see someone your age perform god-level magic is fascinating. This truly is a miracle," he remarked, his curiosity evident.
Fidelis proudly said, "Shinya is an extraordinary person."
"I’m sure he is," Paul agreed, a smile spreading across his face.
Oscard, with his usual tone, said, "Anyway, Paul, this little brat is going to help you heal patients today."
He turned to me and continued, "If you manage to heal a hundred patients without passing out from mana depletion, you’ll pass the test."
Paul smiled, "You mean ninety-nine, because he just healed one."
"Anyway. Get started. I’ll be watching you," Oscard responded, his voice leaving no room for debate.
I needed to carefully measure how much energy each one would take. Fortunately, most of the patients had minor injuries that required little magic. By the time I finished, I had only used a small portion of my mana. Oscard, who had been watching me closely, seemed unaffected at first, but then a sinister grin spread across his face.
"Paul, you deal with the lightly injured. Shinya will handle the seriously wounded," he announced.
Paul immediately objected, but I reassured him, "It's fine, I can manage."
I then shifted my focus to those with more severe injuries: blind eyes, severe burns, lost fingers, broken bones. Each case demanded my full concentration, and with every spell, my mana reserves were depleting more. Despite the strain, I was able to heal them, but I could feel the pressure mounting on me. My head began to spin, and as my mana reserves dwindled, an overwhelming fatigue set in. Still, I pressed on, determined. By this point, I had healed ninety-eight patients, but the effort was wearing me down.
The ninety-ninth patient wasn’t physically injured, at least not with any visible wounds on her small body. She was a demi-rabbit, demi-human beastmen child, about ten years old. Her large, innocent eyes anxiously looked back at her parents, who were guiding her forward. When I saw her, my heart nearly broke; a child so young shouldn’t be suffering like this.
"What’s wrong with her?" I knelt down to her level, gently asking while trying to meet her gaze.
"She’s cursed," her father answered, his voice heavy with sorrow.
"What kind of curse?" I needed more details to figure out how to help her.
"She sees nightmares every night," he explained, his face etched with worry. "Shadowy figures are always chasing her. She hasn’t been able to sleep peacefully for weeks."
Hearing this made my chest tighten. No child should have to endure such fear. A deep sadness welled up inside me for the little rabbit-girl.
I decided to use a purification spell to lift the curse, but first, I needed to assess its strength. I crouched to her eye level, smiling gently to reassure her. "My name is Shinya. What’s your name?"
"Yu-Yuma," she stammered, her small voice barely audible.
"Yuma-chan. That’s such a cute name, just like you," I said warmly, hoping to ease her nerves. "Your father says you’ve been having trouble sleeping."
"Yes... they chase me every night," she replied, her voice still trembling.
Was she really cursed, or did she have some psychological trauma, like the disorders I had encountered in my old world? Perhaps my abilities could help with mental conditions too.
"Don’t worry," I said softly. "I will get rid of those shadows, and you will be able to sleep peacefully again." I gave her a reassuring smile; in return, she smiled faintly, though still with some hesitation.
"Now, close your eyes," I instructed gently and placed my hand lightly on her head. As I focused, I began to explore her aura to find the source of the curse. It took a minute, but I found it—a hidden, dark entity. It wasn’t extremely powerful, but it was strong enough to distort her young mind. I had no idea where or how the curse had come to be, but I knew I could remove it.
I closed my eyes, and began the purification spell. The words flowed fluidly, each syllable carrying the weight of my intention.
"O Light, illuminate the darkness. Purity, cleanse this innocent soul. Banish the curse and bring peace. Purification!"
As I spoke the magical words, I could feel the power of the spell surging inside me, channeling towards Yuma. The curse initially resisted like a stubborn knot in a thread, but slowly, under the power of the purification spell, it began to unravel. I imagined the shadows disappearing, drawn into nothingness, and Yuma's mind being left clear and free.
When I finished, I raised my hand. The aura around Yuma had changed; it was now lighter, brighter. The curse was gone.
"You can sleep peacefully at night now, Yuma-chan," I said, smiling at her.
"Thank you, Shinya onii-sama," she replied, looking visibly relieved.
"Thank you so much, sir. Thanks to you, our daughter can finally sleep peacefully," Yuma’s mother added, her voice filled with gratitude.
"It’s nothing. Take care of yourselves," I responded, watching them leave with a sense of satisfaction.
As the door closed behind them, I felt a wave of dizziness. For a moment, I lost my balance, but Fidelis caught me just in time.
"Are you alright, Shinya?" he asked, concern etched across his face.
"I think my mana is almost depleted," I admitted, trying to steady myself.
"There’s still one more patient, Shinya," Oscard added, a hint of smugness in his voice. It was clear he was doing everything he could to push me to the brink.
"If you heal the next patient without passing out, you’ll pass the test. But if you faint, you’ll fail." Oscard seemed to take pleasure in my struggle, his eyes gleaming with expectation and impatience. It was obvious he wanted me to fail.
Straightening my shoulders, I took a deep breath. I wouldn’t allow him to see me falter.
A short time later, the next patient arrived. A young elf man rushed in carrying an elf woman. She looked to be of middle age, though it was hard to estimate her true age given that elves lived for centuries. But what struck me the most was her appearance; she was covered in blood, with numerous knife wounds on her body.
"What happened?" I asked urgently, my voice tight with concern.
"My mother..." the young man choked out, tears streaming down his face. "She was stabbed by a group. Please, save her. She's all I have left."
When I turned to look at the patient, my heart almost stopped. For a brief moment, I saw my mother's face in hers, and that image sent chills down my spine. I understood all too well the value of family.
Despite the risk of fainting and failing the test, I had no choice but to save her. I checked her pulse—it was weak, trembling, barely there. If I didn’t act quickly, she could die from blood loss in a few minutes. Her skin was already pale, a sign of how grave her condition was.
I took a deep breath and gathered myself. I had to perform the most powerful healing spell I could. If my mana wasn’t enough, my body might not be able to handle it. Because casting magic without enough mana would cause physical damage. But I couldn’t think about that now. I had to save this elf woman, no matter what.
I closed my eyes and began the spell, focusing all my energy on her, determined to bring her back to life.
"O Light, hear my prayer,
With the warmth of your grace, let healing flow from within me.
Repair this wounded soul, heal her blood and body,
Save her from the inevitable end, restore her spirit.
In this dark moment, I call upon your might,
Transform pain into peace, reveal your holiness.
With unwavering faith, shining in every word,
May your mercy save her now, banish every fear.
Heal!"
As I began the healing spell, bright lights swirling in shades of gold and white surrounded me. The energy vibrated around my body, growing stronger with each word I spoke. However, as I pushed my limits, intense pain pierced through me. Blood dripped from my nose and eyes, my body trembling, every pulse in my temples painfully evident. A sharp pain stabbed through my head, and I couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped my lips. The sound of my suffering echoed through the room.
When the final words left my lips, a brilliant light enveloped the woman. The magic began to weave her wounds together, replenishing her blood and repairing her organs. With one final surge of energy, I collapsed to my knees, the pain overwhelming me. But then, in a way that brought me some relief, the woman stirred. Her eyes shot open, wide and filled with life as she took a deep, shaky breath.
I was out of breath. My heart was pounding wildly. The pain coursing through my body intensified, each wave more unbearable than the last. I felt like I was teetering on the edge of a cliff, my consciousness slipping away slowly. Blood continued to drip from my nose and eyes, the world around me blurred. Despite my desperate attempts to stay upright, my legs failed me, and I collapsed to the ground.
"Shinya!" Fidelis shouted, but I was barely aware of him. The only thing I could focus on was the excruciating pain that had taken over my body. Paul rushed to my side and quickly knelt beside me. "Stay with me, Shinya!" He pressed his hand to my forehead and directed a healing spell into me. I felt a warm glow spread through my veins, easing the pain just enough for me to regain some awareness. He then pulled a mana potion from his bag and held it to my lips. "Drink this. It will help replenish your mana."
With trembling hands, I managed to swallow the potion, and the revitalizing energy surged through me like a shockwave. The world slowly started to come back into focus. Paul’s spell had healed my body. My breathing steadied. When I lifted my head, I saw relief etched across Paul’s face.
When I stood, I looked at Oscard seriously. His face twisted in disgust when he saw me; he couldn’t stand the thought of me succeeding.
"I think he passed the test," Paul said, his gaze firmly fixed on Oscard. Fidelis, too, looked at him with the same seriousness. The tension in the room was palpable, and Oscard finally let out a deep sigh, his resolve cracking.
"Fine, fine, he passed," he admitted, his voice laced with reluctance. "We’re done here, Shinya. I don’t want to see your face again." With that, he muttered something under his breath and stormed out of the room.
"Thank you for saving my mother’s life," the young elf said, his eyes shining with gratitude.
"How are you feeling?" I asked the elf woman.
"Thank you, my child. I’m much better now, thanks to you. If you hadn’t helped, I would have died," she replied, her voice filled with warmth and gratitude.
I felt a wave of thankfulness rise within me for being able to help her. "Here, take this." She handed me a strange amulet; its surface gently gleamed in the light, radiating a soothing aura. As I looked closer, I noticed intricate symbols etched along its edges—symbols I couldn’t decipher, though I guessed they were in the elven language.
As I took the amulet in my hand, the light dancing on it blinded me for a moment. It seemed to carry some sort of power, amplifying the sense of peace within me.
"This is a kind of loyalty amulet," the elf woman said. "If ever the elves become a threat or if you need their help, show this amulet to them."
As I drew the amulet closer to my heart, its warmth created a bond within me; it was not just an object, but a symbol of the strong friendship between us.
"Thank you so much," I said, gripping the amulet tightly in my hand. "You can be sure I’ll use it wisely."
The elf woman smiled, her eyes shining with warmth. "You have a good heart, young man. Remember, kindness often returns to you in ways you least expect."
With a final nod, I watched as the young elf helped his mother to her feet. They exchanged a few kind words before leaving the room, and I felt a sense of satisfaction fill me.
As they disappeared down the corridor, I turned to Paul and Fidelis, my heart still racing from the adrenaline. "I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day," I said, trying to catch my breath.
Paul gave me a small smile. "Indeed."
The mana potion Paul gave me had really brought me back to myself. But to fully restore my mana, I ended up drinking seventeen more potions. Now, my mana was completely replenished.
Fidelis wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "It’s evening now," he said. "You and I are going to an inn to rest. Tomorrow, we’ll explore the city. Don’t worry, no one will bother us. I’ll cover all the costs."
As he spoke, he affectionately ruffled my hair. "Stop, please! You’re messing up my hair!" I laughed, as my hair had always been a sensitive subject for me.
Just then, Fidelis upped the mischief by tickling my underarms, and I burst into uncontrollable laughter, unable to defend myself against their playful antics.
After a moment, he let me go, and we said our goodbyes to Paul. Then, we left the clinic.
"Hey, Fidelis," I began, trying to collect my thoughts.
"Is there something you want, Shinya?" he asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
"You saved a hundred people today, you pushed your limits. You deserve a reward," he continued, his words filling me with pride.
"There’s one more person I want to save," I said, my expression turning serious as I looked into his eyes. "We need to go to the slave market."
Fidelis was surprised. He nodded and we made our way toward the slave market. I knew exactly who I wanted to rescue.
to be continued...