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Healer of Monsters
Volume 1. Chapter 14

Volume 1. Chapter 14

"Why do you need this?" Jishin finally spoke up and, anticipating Stas's response, abruptly waved his hand to stop the words ready to spill out. "This time, tell me the pure truth. If I find your response worthy, I'll answer your questions."

Stas looked at the prince seriously, then leaned in as close as propriety allowed.

"I want to become a warmaster and learn to control prana. I wish to understand all the depths of this great and alluring power."

"And why do you need me for that?" Jishin's tone was calm, devoid of the usual disdain or mockery. If he was surprised by the wish of a clanless man to master such valuable knowledge, he didn't show it.

"Because the second son of the head of a powerful and renowned warmaster clan can help me much more than almost anyone else in this world. Let me correct myself, a son of the clan head, grateful for being saved. After all, with the resources at hand, I did the almost impossible by pulling you back from the brink of death."

"Grateful for being saved?" The prince's face twisted ironically. "You saved my life only for me to rot in the cursed Sansa clan's dungeons. It would have been merciful to let me die in battle after you healed me. Remember, I told you, healer, that you know nothing about my father?"

"Yes," Stas nodded slowly.

"And I was right," Sumada leaned back on the pillow, a bitter smile lingering on his lips. "Yes, I am the son of the clan leader. But I am only the second son. My elder brother is the clan heir. He will inherit my father's place. I am... thanks to you, just a captive and shamed resource, whose price is too high, which is why I am still alive."

"Your father won't negotiate?" Ordyntsev was beginning to understand.

"No, why not. Although my father is one of the most brutal and merciless warmasters, he will most likely start bargaining. But I'm sure that whatever the Sansa want, he'll never give it to them. And when my captors realize this, then I will no longer be lying on this soft futon, but will be moved to the dirty and gloomy dungeons," the youth's voice carried a dark certainty. "The Sansa clan will have no choice but to try to force out of me the techniques and knowledge of my clan through torture. And if I don't die in the process, it will all end with a grand execution for the amusement of commoners, samurai, and nobles. So tell me, healer, what should I be grateful to you for?"

However, if the prince's gaze sought disappointment on the earthling's face, to his surprise, he found none.

"Tell me, how long do you think the negotiations for your exchange will last?" Stas asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know," Sumada shrugged. "Probably no less than two or three months. There's war everywhere. It'll take time for the first envoys to be sent and arrive, then to deliver the response, after which new terms will be sent. It's a long process, and if the envoys are intercepted by chance, that will extend the time even further."

"Good," Stas nodded to his thoughts.

"I see nothing good about it," Jishin muttered, but it would be a lie to say he wasn't intrigued by the mysterious healer's words.

Stas didn't disappoint his interlocutor.

"As you know, we will soon be heading towards Akaru City. As I've learned, it's one of the largest cities in our country, Hyugo. It's governed by the daimyo's son, Nobunoro. He was the one who ordered me to heal you, which in turn means that you will be housed inside his palace."

"And what good does that do? The cursed Sansa will still be all around!"

"They won't be," Stas shook his head. "The relationship between Nobunoro and one of the Sansa elders leaves much to be desired. In fact, they are completely and irreparably ruined. It seems that the daimyo's son neither likes nor trusts warmasters. This means that between you and an escape from the palace, there will only be the samurai and palace guards."

"You want to help me escape?" The prince looked at Ordyntsev as if he were insane. "This is the maddest idea I've ever heard! You're not a warrior, you're a mere healer, how do you plan to do this?"

"Allow me to handle this matter," Stas evaded the question. "After all, you have nothing to lose in any case. If I succeed, you gain your freedom. If not? One less audacious peasant to worry about." The man allowed himself a rare smile.

"Peasant? No," the prince mused, shaking his head thoughtfully. "You don't resemble a peasant. Maybe a merchant? Still no. I don't know who you are, but suppose you can sneak me out of the palace unnoticed. Still, what will you do when all the Sansa clan's warmasters come after us? Yes, we'll have a head start, but you know, warmasters move much faster than ordinary people. And with these shackles," Sumada tapped on the manacles, "we won't get far. They'll track us down, and then it'll be the end for you."

"I've thought about that. And here I'd like to remind you that you warmasters often receive assignments that require not only strength but also stealth. Of course, you're not ninjas, but some of you do walk the path of shadows."

Jishin's eyes narrowed as he tried to understand what the healer meant.

"It's not hard to guess that in a city as large as Akaru, which stands at the intersection of several main roads, there are people of the Sumada clan. Some gather information, others hunt down unwanted officials or merchants. Is that right?"

"Suppose," the prince's answer was brief. He clearly wasn't about to compromise his clan's people.

"Let's imagine something for a second. If your father can't come to terms with the Sansa, he'll most likely try to get you out by force, right? I bet that won't work. And he'll employ exactly those covert members of your clan who are in Akaru. But what if they knew how to act, thanks to someone leading them from the inside? The question is, do you, prince, know how to contact them?"

Jishin was slow to answer, but finally, he sighed heavily.

"Healer, you understand that I can't tell you this? You could very well be an informant for the Sansa, who sent you to me to uncover our network. How can I trust you?"

"Probably not at all," Stas chuckled. "But that's the weight of choice. You must decide once and for all whether you are ready to fight to win or meekly submit to circumstances and wait for death. I offer you life, prince, but whether you accept my help is up to you."

"If I accept your help and trust you, what do you want? I won't believe that you're driven solely by concern for a patient," Jishin snorted sarcastically. His cynicism reminded Stas of himself, which the earthling found quite appealing.

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No sooner had these words left the youth's lips than a serpentine smirk crossed the healer's face.

"I've already told you my wish. I want to become a warmaster. Is that possible for an ordinary person?"

"It's not that simple," Sumada grumbled.

"Well then, explain why. I promise I'll listen very attentively."

"I have no doubt about that," Jishin rolled his eyes. "If we forget that disclosing this information to someone outside the clan is a crime, even if you start developing your prana core, you'll never reach even an ordinary warmaster's level, let alone an advanced or, unimaginably, a supreme level."

"So, a regular person can still become a warmaster?" Stas wasn't going to give up.

"Weren't we agreed that I would only tell you this when you get me out of captivity?" the prince looked at Stas questioningly.

"No. I want to start studying these teachings now. In addition, the sooner I start, as you said, developing the prana core, the sooner the first results will come."

"You don't trust Sumada's word?" the prince tensed.

"Not at all," Stas reassured him. "We still have a lot of time, and I wouldn't want to waste it. So?"

"I've never seen someone so brazen and greedy for knowledge. You know, just a couple of weeks ago, if you had spoken to me so presumptuously, I would have ordered your tongue to be cut out."

"No doubt about that," Stas nodded, maintaining his demanding gaze.

"Ah, to have gotten such a strange healer..." The prince conceded defeat. "Fine, I'll trust you. But if you betray me," the young warmaster's voice filled with strength, "I will voluntarily give the Sansa my knowledge and techniques and ask only one favor of them. Arrange for you the most torturous and gruesome death imaginable. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal," Stas nodded seriously, impressed.

He couldn't help but compare this young man to the youths back on Earth. Could they, suffering from gut-wrenching pain and being held captive, still fiercely protect their clan's knowledge and people while trying not to compromise their principles?

"I'd like to know what you meant when you said I could never become a strong warmaster?" Stas prepared to listen with interest.

"It's all about heredity," mockery in the prince's voice was easily discernible. "Old clans carefully ensure their offsprings only marry those who can benefit the clan. For this, they even form alliances with other families. Many generations of such marriages only strengthen the prana core of the born children..."

'Amusing, there's quite a bit of savagery around here, but the locals seem to understand the principles of genetics and eugenics quite well.'

"Moreover, if several generations of warmasters used, say, acid and associated techniques, their prana naturally begins to transform more easily into that element. This is how the Sansa clan came about."

"So your clan used stone control techniques?"

"Rather earth techniques. Stone is just one part of this element. Clan warmasters are usually way stronger than loners or small families."

"Is it really true that among ordinary people there are never those who are born with a high prana reserve?" Stas doubted.

"You're right," Jishin unexpectedly agreed. "They are born. But here we come to the second reason. It is believed that the most favorable time to develop a prana core is at the age of seven. It is then that training is best for increasing prana reserves and control. How old are you? Seventeen-eighteen? You're already too old and will have to put in much more effort to make even a little progress. Moreover, the growth rate is already reduced, so you'll never catch up to a decent level of prana. Not to mention rivaling real clan warmasters."

'We'll see about that,' Stas mused, frowning. 'What the knowledge and intellect of a man from a much more advanced civilization than yours can achieve.'

But an important question remained to be asked.

"What's the difference between you, warmasters, and samurai? I've seen their swords glowing green, and then your shackles flared with the same energy. Do you all use prana?"

"Samurai," the prince's voice easily conveyed disdain. "Yes, both we and they use prana. But you might as well compare an ashigaru and a samurai. They're both warriors, but how many ashigaru would it take to kill one samurai? It's the same here. Samurai concentrated all their attention on strengthening and speeding up the body, plus infusing their swords with prana. And even so, they lose to us even in these two arts. We warmasters, besides this, also study other branches of the great art."

"The great art?" Stas suddenly felt the urge to take notes on what was being told to him.

"Yes," Jishin squirmed, apparently once again having lain on his back for too long. "The great art is a collection of all known combat magic directions to humankind. It consists of ten lesser arts."

The prince's speech wasn't always coherent, so Stas often had to piece together various facts on his own.

And here's what he came up with:

1. The art of poisons – the creation of poisons and antidotes. Partially connected with medicine, namely with medicinal herbs and tinctures. But it's not all straightforward. The same Sansa clan managed to transform this art into the next type.

2. The art of destruction – encompasses the entire variety of long-range and even close-range elemental techniques. Earth plates burying foes or all-consuming fire waves – this is the art of destruction. It again divides into the art of controlling earth, fire, water, air, poison, and other, much rarer elements.

3. The art of seals – Stas witnessed it in person when the prince's shackles were activated. With this art, one can not only create artifacts but also fight. The prince knew little about it. Apparently, there were a couple of clans that chose this path. The Sumada didn't develop this direction much.

4. The art of healing – a set of techniques aimed not to let the patient die from the other arts, and then to successfully restore them. Obviously, this one attracted the earthling's attention the most.

Unfortunately, according to Jishin, the art of healing developed much worse and slower. Medics were often at a disadvantage against the art of destruction. After all, the art of healing required lengthy training and very good control of prana. And although healers were protected, it didn't always work out.

5. The art of illusions - Sumada didn't dwell on this particular art, but if Stas understood him correctly, a precisely prepared thin stream of prana was sent point-blank into the enemy's brain, causing it to see what wasn't there. The strongest illusionists are capable of so complexly deceiving the human brain that their enemies literally go insane, dying in a fabricated reality.

6. The art of close combat – the little in which samurai and warmasters were similar. This art included an entire complex of different techniques to enhance or strengthen the body and schools of close combat.

Each clan had its own training techniques, secrets, and combat styles.

7. The art of weapon mastery – the second art related to both samurai and warmasters. It included infusing weapons with prana to increase their attacking properties, as well as schools of using this very cold weapon.

Here, the prince had to admit that samurai do surpass warmasters. Trying to fight samurai with swords without an overwhelming advantage in speed or strength is deadly dangerous.

8. The art of sensorics – the ability to sense, hear, feel, or see prana at a distance. Quite a rare gift, according to the prince. Therefore, valued by clans.

9. The art of summoning and subjugation - simultaneously rare and widespread. On the one hand, there are clans like Kiatto, which build their tactics on tamed magical creatures. On the other, there are warmasters capable of summoning monsters. Though the latter is a perilous business. Why so, Jishin didn't explain, and Stas didn't insist.

From all this, it wasn't hard to understand that certain arts could unite, giving rise to something new, capable of entering several categories at once.

"Wait," Stas repeated the points in his head so as not to forget and noticed an inconsistency. "The tenth point is missing."

"Oh yes," the youth grimaced. "The tenth point is forbidden arts. When used, they harm not only enemies but also the warmaster themselves. And besides, they can violate the laws of nature, cause deep harm to the world, and sometimes require real sacrifices. Even the same elemental techniques can fall under the tenth point if they require, for example, a life. Their use is condemned everywhere, and for this, one can even be killed."

"What is it, for example?" Stas was very curious about what even the ruthless locals considered too dangerous to use.

"For example, the art of raising the dead," the prince's tone was serious. "The clan of Deathbringers has the worst reputation of all warmasters. Many of the commoners' horror stories about warmasters came from this clan. They rarely spare anyone, so they're only called during the most terrible wars and fights."

Ordyntsev understood from the tone that it was better not to delve into this area. Even now, Sumada started squinting suspiciously at Stas's interest in this topic.