The doctor arrived shortly after.

We were in the inner court so it was expected that healers would be close by.

The old man didn't answer me when I asked him what was wrong. He kept waffling an “I need confirmation, this is beyond my expertise, wait for the doctor.” It was even more worrisome. I hated being kept out of my condition. I hadn't forgotten the look of the doctors when they were beating around the bush about my relapse and the old man had the exact same look.

“Doctors” were a rare breed in this world. There were magicians who could heal some diseases and the priests of Fusaad who were called to cure infections. So there was little room left for physicians, people who would study physiology to understand how the body works and help cure illness when magic wasn't an option.

Doctors were often low-rank magicians with some healing ability that were making up for the lack of power by relying on knowledge of disease and medicinal herbs. They were able to take care of things even powerful magicians couldn't cure: birth defects, chronic diseases, or common diseases on people who couldn't afford better healers.

I've only translated one book about medicine so far and let's just say their understanding of biology is limited. They do have a rational approach to disease and are trying to understand physiology and pathology but they just lack the tools to really make any breakthrough.

I was pleasantly amazed at their understanding of microbial life. Despite the lack of the microscope, they knew that small entities existed and were able to harm us or have a great effect on the world. They understood fermentation was the work of those microorganisms for example. Whereas Fusaad's priests relied purely on their faith and healer-magicians on their powers to solve diseases.

The court physician that entered the garden was quite young for the position he held. His black eyes were beaming with clarity and focus: this one didn't end up here through bribing or nepotisms.

He was looking around 30 years old and was the first person I ever saw wearing glasses in this world. Those were more like old spectacles than modern glasses, though. His black hair was tied in a long braid and he had one of those round strange hats officials sometimes wore.

“Who's the patient?” He asked with the poise of a professional ready for anything. Hamy, the old man, and the third princess pointed at me in answer.

“What's the matter with you kid? You seem fine.” He was a bit surprised that his patient wasn't on his deathbed nor looking sick. Not waiting for my answer, he was already sitting beside me and taking my pulse.

“Please, have a look at his Chi flow, there seems to be something... different... about it,” said the old lord with precautions.

Just like Lord Iroto did before, the court physician was taking my pulse with three fingers and he waited for a minute before wearing the same flabbergasted expression as the old man. The old lord was looking at the doctor and sharing a knowing stare that meant: See? There is a big problem here.

The physician finally uttered: “How are you still alive?” I hope it was more of a rhetorical question than his full diagnose. He was sounding more curious than worried, which was better than the fearful concern the lord had.

“Am I in that bad a shape?” I replied with a meek smile, “I don't feel sick or unwell. In fact, I'm feeling quite good today.” And it was true: I had a good night's sleep and a solid meal today.

The physician shook his astonishment away: “I don't know how to say this? You shouldn't be well.” Even muttering to himself “Or alive at all.”

The old lord intervened “We can't feel any Chi in you. You should either be dead or at death's door. This is highly unusual. Ever read anything about this doctor Nune?”

The physician shook his head in denial, his hat almost falling due to the motion, “Not with a breathing patient. Even less a kid with such a healthy complexion.” He was having a look at my eyes' sclera and pinching my cheeks to make sure I was really alive.

This triggered something in the old lord, he turned toward Shizu who just came back with a stack of papers and gave her a medallion: “Please go call the Marshall for me, tell him it is urgent.”

The Marshall was the head of the military in the Shieldom.

He was rumoured to be the strongest warrior around here. Gupta and Orzhov didn't lack praises and compliments about him, almost worshipping the man as much as their respective gods. I believe most of their stories are over-exaggerated: can a man really chop off a mountain bare-handed?

While waiting for the man, the doctor kept examining me, listening to my breathing, heartbeats, even checking how my breath smelled... Spoilers, I had some of those onions crackers today.

After getting sure I was alive and kicking, he had me perform some gymnastic movements and was simply amazed: “How can someone be that well with no Chi at all? This defies all of Pexr Nhi's theories on life's sustainability.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The marshall arrived while I was taking a breather after a round of squats. The man wasn't looking anything like the martial hero I imagined. He was fit but not overly muscular, even my father had stronger looking arms than this guy.

He was a middle aged man, maybe in his late forties, quite short and lean compared to the average. He was dressed in a martial outfit with a scale armour on but no weapon to be seen hanging at his waist. He had a severe look and his only noticeable feature was a small black moustache that was frizzed in thin curls, a bit like a less-flashy Salvador Dali.

“What was so urgent, Iroto? I hope this is not one of your pranks to make me drink with you in the middle of the day?! You know how busy I am right now?” He was in a sour mood and his tone carried no respect for the old lord.

The old lord snickered and took a sip from his flask in provocation. “When did an old man ever fool you?” Before the Marshall could get angry at him, he pointed at me: “This is serious.”

The Marshall took a look in the direction and his stare fell on the princess and then the court physician. “What's going on here? Did someone get hurt?” He asked with concern.

“No one is hurt. Rest assured.” calmed lord Iroto before coming by my side to put his hand on my shoulder. “This kid is Telerios, he is my disciple.” Excuse me, since when ?! “He has a very unique... condition... Could you please take a look at his Chi circulation?” He invited the Marshall to come examine me.

“I hope this isn't one of your tricks. What's your problem kid?” He was still wary of a trick going on but took my wrist to feel my pulse before dropping it as if it was searing embers “By Husnd broken shield! Shave my moustache like Amidea's cunt! What kind of heresy is this? Is the kid even alive?!” He blurted.

Not backing from me he instead put both hands on my bare chest like some gropper. “Hmmm, no. You're not dead.” Thanks for the good news. “But this is so bizarre. What did you do to his Chi?” He inquired at the old lord.

The old drunkard shrugged: “Nothing. That is the problem. He was like this from the start. To be honest it was the first time his Chi got tested today and we are all as surprised as you are that he has none at all.” He was looking uneasily at me.

The Marshall silenced him with a frown and moved his hand along my chest. I could feel the warmth of what I can only suspect to be his Chi pouring inside of me. “It's not that he has no Chi at all. It's just that his Chi is so... strange...”

Everyone was both relieved and worried. I had Chi but something was wrong with it. “I can't tell why but his Chi feels just neutral. I'm having a very hard time just sensing it.” He squinted his eyes and moved his hands, one on my forehead and the other on my navel. “And there is so little of it.” He was now sweeping his hands along my arms and legs, trying to get a better feel of my Chi.

“You mean neutral like raw wild chi?” Asked the princess with curiosity and fervour. Chi was one of the subjects that interested her the most and the Marshall must be her role-model.

“No, not primal Chi. This Chi is a bit like... hum, flavourless water?” He was trying to find the words to express his impression of my Chi. “It isn't raw, just turned in... something barely interacting, flowing out of your grasp as you try to take hold of it.” He looked back at me; “Where do you come from? Who trained you?”

Before I could answer the elder lord calmed the Marshall down. “He was born in this city and is a commoner. He had no prior training and his family has a little bit of normal chi. Have you ever heard of anything like this?” he probed for my stead.

The Marshall finally let me off and was fiddling with his moustache while searching his memories. “No. I've never heard of a Chi that neutral. Even I have a hard time sensing it. No wonder you were worried for his health.”

The Marshall was one of the strongest warriors in the Empire. He was rumoured to be at the gate of the fourth quarter, almost a demi god. People that became this strong did not rely on brawns only. Chi was more about understanding and mastery than raw force. He was one of the top experts on the matter in the Empire but: “I have no idea what this is,” he concluded.

The old lord asked the question that I was burning to ask: “Can he be trained?”

The Marshall choked on that “Trained? I wouldn't know where to start? No one can sense his chi or help him get familiar with it. He can't feel it and it can't interact with the rest of the flowing Chi with how neutral it is. I'm already amazed at how healthy he looks with so little, strange, Chi. I honestly don't think it can be trained, sorry kid.” He was looking sorry for both me and my self-proclaimed “master”.

This was quite the shock.

I unconsciously always took it for granted that I would have Chi. I came in a world of fantasy, my new family had Chi, I got acknowledged by the gods but I can't even have access to basic things? What is the point to get reborn in a world filled with magic?

Magic! That's the answer. If I can't become an immortal fighter, at least I can become a wise mage or wizard. This would also fit me more than a brawler. If my Chi was tasteless water, then let me become a water-bender.

“Then what about magic?” I asked full of hope.

The faces of the Marshall, the old lord, and the princess looked grim.

This was enough of an answer but seeing that no one was explaining, the princess took the lead and explained: “Magic is just another form of Chi use. While martialists gather chi inside and absorb it, magicians gather Chi outside and change its colour to turn it into something else,” she was giving me a quick explanation of what magic was. “With your neutral Chi... I have no idea how it can be used to interact with the flow of chi around us to cast spells?” She turned at the old lord, hoping for more information.

The old lord was a magician of a higher level than she was. “I don't know either,” he concluded with a worried shrug. “We can try, but magic requires the user to steer his own Chi to gather and interact with the Chi of the rest of the world. I don't know what can be done with yours since I can't even feel it,” he confessed.

“There is no harm trying,” interjected the princess before explaining what I was to do. “The easiest way to change Chi is to turn it into warmth. Try to feel the Chi surrounding us while holding the crystal and gently coax it into becoming warmth.”

I could see that the old lord, Shizu, and the Marshall were a bit unsettled that she was explaining magic to me but they didn't stop her. Instead, I was presented the lead box again to pick out another crystal.

From what I got out of her short explanation, Chi was some kind of force. Entropy should be the reason why degrading it to warmth was the easiest.

So crystal in hand I was trying to “feel the force, Luke,” and gently have it turn to infrared radiation.

I've tried for an hour before giving up. The crystal was getting warmer just because I was holding it but there were no signs of magic at play.

The princess was looking pitifully at me: “It is fine, not everyone is meant to become a magician. You are already doing great for a commoner.” That hurt more than it helped.

What was worse was that everyone else was getting it. Gel and Mel even had access to a special kind of Chi without asking for it, their crystal had changed colour.

Even Balout had it. He was tested while the Marshall was examining me and his Chi was almost as potent as Melodi's. Just that his crystal shone with a white light that wasn't inferring to any special predisposition.

I was the only one left with nothing.

The Marshall put a heavy hand on my shoulder, sinking me even more into the pit I was in. “Maybe it will come with time, boy. You're healthy and maybe with time and training you'll find a way.” I was not a Jalea's blessed one but I could tell he was lying and just trying to comfort a child. “Be happy for your friends, instead.” He even sprinkled a bit of salt on my wound.

I could tell my friends were happy and I was glad for them too. Their aptitude meant they would not become some poor workers bullied around by the blades.

Yet the stares they were giving me were hard to take on. It was a mix of guilt, joy, concern, and a hint of shame.

It was the look a football captain would have when trying to avoid picking his clumsy friend in his team. They were pitying me...

I was feeling depressed.