A projection hovered in front of Mannat’s eyes when he woke up from meditation in the morning. The skill had leveled up and now stood at level nine, one step away from completion.
The Witch had finally allowed him to absorb miasma from his mother’s body yesterday, and he had done better than the first time. The key to regenerating mana with miasma was to have low to absolutely no mana inside his heart because otherwise the mana and miasma simply start fighting inside his body. He almost suffered a backlash in the process. It would not have turned into a blood-curling monster, but he would have been bedridden for a long time.
There was, however, good news. The miasma core developing in Noor’s brain decreased by a small fraction. Mannat’s hard work over the last one year had born fruit.
The night was ending.
The darkness was lifting.
His dream had come true. Soon his mother would be awake, his family complete. Yes, he would have to find a way to regenerate her roots, or device something to exchange the miasma produced in her body with mana, but that was something a long way ahead. He didn’t need to think that far.
The Witch’s voice cut his thoughts short. She had called him outside. There were guests coming.
Mannat sipped the cold wind flowing in the early morning and it exhaled out with his sleepiness. He stood up and made his way toward the hut, rotating his shoulders on the way to awaken his tender joints. He found the Witch standing at the door looking into the distance.
“What’s happening?” Mannat asked following her gaze. It was so early the birds hadn’t awakened yet, stars were still in the sky, and the moon kept a watchful eye somewhere in the west.
“Your task is coming. Get ready.” The Witch answered.
Mannat jumped up in surprise. This was a shock indeed. There had been many kinds of guests over the past year, but he had only one kind of task: to fight the monsters. Mannat didn’t know what to do at first, then a yawn told him he was still half asleep. He left the Witch’s side to get ready to receive the people. He washed his face in a hurry and by the time he got back a cart had already come to stop near the edge of the clearing.
Someone familiar jumped off the driver's seat and made its way to the back of the cart. He picked up someone and made his way toward the hut, followed by a woman in a green robe.
Kaju saw him standing next to the Witch and his eyes opened wide in both astonishment and familiarity.
His gait grew confident and he sped up, only to be stopped by the fearful woman following him. She was hesitant to meet them, but Kaju told her something that reeked of confidence and fairness and her fear faded somewhat. Her gaze traveled across the narrow path between the gardens, toward the hut, and stopped at Mannat before returning to the man Kaju carried. Mannat sensed longing from her as she nodded to Kaju.
Mannat didn’t find her hesitation and fear an act of cowardliness. He personally knew how scary the notion of meeting the Witch was, especially at night. Acting on it was another beast altogether. Yet, she had fought her fears and found enough courage in her heart to look for the Witch’s help.
He had gone through the same thing once and worried himself to death on the way. He would have also felt a lot better if there was someone familiar at the clearing to guide him through his second meeting with the Witch. Because facing her alone was not a task for the weak-hearted. All he felt was admiration for her and sadness, because if the man Kaju carried was actually suffering from miasma poisoning then they were in for bad news.
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Kaju was the retired soldier from the next village, the only one who had managed to stand his ground against Little Butcher after his transformation. The year hadn’t changed him in any way other than the dark circles under his eyes and his unkempt hair. His white beard was still thick as ever; though his grey wizened eyes couldn’t hide the worry nestled in his mind.
However, it wasn’t his condition that attracted Mannat’s attention, but the man next to him, the one he and the women had brought. The man seemed unaware of his surroundings. He was awake, but in a coma of some sort, having an uncanny resemblance to little Butcher’s situation when the butchers and they were carrying him to the Witch. His face was pale and his heartbeat was dropping, fast.
However, the man’s outer appearance was still not what facilitated Mannat to go ahead and help the two. He sensed a faint suction, a cold dreadful aura emanating from the man, and that sent him into action as a cold shiver raced down his back.
“Is he… transforming?” Mannat asked the Witch, unable to collect his thoughts.
Truth was that he hadn’t faced a challenge similar to Little butchers in the year since his death. He had killed beasts, but not met another person poisoned with miasma. Whether it was the Witch’s consideration or not wasn’t the problem. He didn’t fear the monsters but feared failing to help someone in need.
“No,” The Witch denied, allowing Mannat some relief.
However, that didn’t mean something was not wrong with the man. He was dying and miasma was the cause of his affliction.
“How will you help him?” Mannat asked the Witch, helping Kaju carry the man to the hut.
“You are asking the wrong question.” The Witch’s answered. “The question is how will you help him?”
Mannat didn’t think she was joking. She was giving him the reins and it scared him because this was not a test. A man was sick and probably dying. It was too much weight for himself, far too much in his state of mind. Anyone else would have wavered, tried to get out of the way. Mannat nodded and took command.
A calm mind; he actively meditated.
Kaju looked at Mannat for guidance once they crossed the narrow path between the gardens and arrived at the hut. The woman instead found herself staring at the Witch, vigilant of her, fear clear on her face, but there was also determination in her eyes.
The man must have been her close family because she didn’t leave his side even under the Witch’s gaze. They had received many guests over the year since the accident, but only a few of them had ever agreed to the Witch’s conditions. Most of which had never touched on the topic of slavery or apprenticeship. It was also during his stay with her that he learned she never asked more than a person could give. It was to test their determination.
If they can’t help themselves, then they don’t deserve my help. This was her favorite quote that she told anyone who tried to haggle for her help. She called it a favor, and according to her, not everyone deserved one.
Kaju tried to explain the situation only to see Mannat shaking his head.
“Bring him inside,” Mannat opened the door.
The woman held it open for them and looked at the Witch after they had entered, questioning her stance. “Are you… coming?” She asked, hesitatingly.
The Witch remained unmoved. She didn’t speak nor showed any interest in the people or the patient. She kept watch, but that was the extent of her investment. Her only motivation was to see what Mannat’s could do. The loss or gain didn’t matter to her.
The Witch’s apathy personally eased the woman, but also made her worry for her brother. She was determined to get him the best treatment, even if it meant having to work for the Witch. Mannat was just a little boy in her eyes.
“Can you help my brother?” She questioned Mannat. Her doubts were genuine and Mannat had no way to reassure her.
Kaju helped him here and reprimanded the woman. He didn’t know her very well, but she listened and grew solemn for the time being. He knew the man though only from the few days they had spent together training.
Mannat cleared the table in a hurry. “Lay him on it,” He commanded and hesitatingly the two followed.
The pale man was barely breathing, taking one breath every few seconds, but he was alive. He was clinging to life.