I stared at the people around me being treated for their wounds. Some of them were covered in glass shards, and a few others suffered burns on their skin. Doctors and nurses rushed in and out of the room carrying tools and glass vials as they struggled to treat the injured.
It took time for me to piece together just how big of an impact this attack would have. The only ones invited to the First Prince’s birthday party were nobles who had earned the Royal Family’s trust. I suspected they did this to reduce the chances of an unruly noble attacking from the inside, but it also meant that the kingdom’s most valued families were all in one place at one time.
I swept my gaze across the infirmary, looking at the injuries they had sustained. I was certain that those who had stood by the windows when the attack happened would suffer permanent scars at the very least. Some would be lucky to walk away with nothing more than a few scratches, but others… others might not wake up at all.
If any of them would die in the aftermath, the situation would spiral downwards rapidly.
Things would get messy politically from here on out. Depending on the attacker’s identity—which I, as Feyt, was determined to find out—it could even lead to a civil war. And since I, as Carine, was one of the invitees, I would inevitably be part of that drama.
Ugh, why did this have to happen the moment I had my foot in the door?
As I waited patiently, the infirmary doors burst open, the heavy wooden panels crashing against the stone walls. A group of castle knights marched inside in a line before stopping. They stepped aside to allow a single figure to enter.
A young girl.
For a moment, I was stunned. looked like she had stepped right out of a fantasy romance novel. Her appearance was simple, with shoulder-length brown hair neatly styled and a modest dark green uniform that looked both formal and practical. But there was this sort of soft enveloping aura around her that made me feel like she was something more.
She walked inside the room, her eyes scanning all of us with a soft worried look. She turned to one of the knights and asked, “Is this all of them?”
The knight nodded. “Yes, Lady Clara. They are the ones hurt by the attack outside of the Royal Family.”
“O-Okay, I’ll try my best,” the girl said timidly before turning towards us.
Is this the Saint that knight told me about? Judging from everything, it seemed so. That knight that escorted her called her “Lady Clara” instead of “Saint”, which really meant that the title wasn’t official and was more of a nickname.
Also, Clara sounded like a first name, at least in this world’s standard. That meant she had no family name. Was she a commoner then?
A small iron badge was pinned to her chest, etched with the emblem of a sword and crown. I recognized it from my reading sessions in the past, that emblem meant she attends the Royal Knights Academy, the very place Father intends to send me to in a few years.
I sat up straighter, watching closely as she moved toward one of the wounded nobles.
“A-Are you the ‘Saint’ they told me about?” the bearded noble asked, trying to mask the pain in his voice.
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“No, no! Please, I’m not a Saint at all!” the girl replied, not out of humbleness, but out of panic. “P-Please, just call me Clara. Please, lay back and allow me to heal you.”
The noble complied with her words and lay back down. The girl, Clara, walked to his side and raised her hands. She closed her eyes as she began to mumble under her breath.
Without Feyt’s ears, I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I was certain she was preparing a spell with a chant the same way the robed man chanted his Fireball spell.
Finally, I could see what healing magic would be like. Would it be able to heal everything? Would it be as grotesque as I imagined?
As the girl continued to mumble to herself, I began to see a small glowing light emitted from her hands. It was barely noticeable due to how weak it was. Then, in no time at all, the girl opened her eyes back up and said in a firm tone, “[Heal]!”
I watched as a bright white light covered the wounds left by the glass shards on the injured. It lingered for a moment, sparkling as if it were an item in a video game, before dissipating. The wound, was as if he had never been injured in the first place.
The noble gasped, sitting up abruptly. “No way!” He stared at his woundless skin, then winced as he clutched his leg. “Ow, ow, ow! It still hurts!”
“I-I’m sorry… This is the best I could do right now!” The girl bowed profusely.
So… That was it?
Don’t get me wrong, seeing healing magic firsthand was something. But after witnessing a simple fireball spell decimating an entire room of a castle, I expected something with the same impact for that heal spell…
But, I didn’t have any right to complain. After all, I myself had no magic. The fact that this Clara girl was able to close wounds that fast was already amazing. What would I do for that power, I wondered.
Clara went on to the other injured nobles. She did the same routine as she did with the first one: properly telling them to lay down and then mending their wounds with her [Heal] spell. Each time, the nobles who were healed would still wince in pain from their wounds despite the spell.
She continued to attend to each noble in the area. I saw in real-time the ones I thought wouldn’t make it, but now I felt they had a chance. Sure, her magic wouldn’t heal every single thing on someone, but the fact it made a change was enough.
Finally, she reached my bed.
Clara hesitated for a moment, looking at me as if unsure whether to speak or not. I expected her to tell me to lie down, but instead, she stood there, silently watching me. Her round green eyes eyed me up and down. I grew a bit restless under her gaze.
“Are you alright?” I asked her.
My question seemed to pull her out of her trance before she shook her head slightly. “N-No, of course not. It’s just that… I noticed you’re… a lot younger than the rest.”
Ah, so that’s her concern… Wait, why is it her concern?
“Is that a problem?” I asked, meaning to use a worried tone, but it came out cold like always.
She shook her head and raised her hands. “N-No! Not at all! P-Please! Allow me to heal you!”
I nodded, watching her carefully as she raised her hands once again. She repeated the same steps. First, she closed her eyes. Then, she mumbled under her breath again.
But this time, I could actually hear her chant… somewhat.
The words all sounded strange like it was of a different language altogether. Weird. I was able to hear that robed man’s chant clear as day as Feyt, what was up with her chant?
Before I could think about it further, Clara opened her eyes and said, “[Heal].”
I felt warmth enveloping my body, more specifically my legs and back. It felt soft and smooth, almost comforting. I tried to move, and then.
Ouch.
Yep, the pain’s still there.
I looked up at Clara, who was watching me anxiously, probably waiting for my reaction. She seemed nervous, almost like she was expecting me to complain.
Instead, I gave her a small nod. “Thank you.”
“A-Ah! Yes, I’m glad…”
I leaned back slightly, exhaling. Clara left my side as fast as she approached. I still had so many questions, like how much healing she could do before she got tired, or if there was a way she could make her healing stronger. But, I decided not to hold her off for too long. She still had a few more people who needed her healing.
Besides, there was another important thing in front of me.
I, Feyt, had arrived at the entrance of that robed man’s hideout.
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image [https://i.imgur.com/RdC5Gde.png]