Vincent closed his shop earlier and headed to the general market area. He had to move away from any major areas with proper military presence soon. Getting conscripted or enlisted forcefully was something he didn't wish for. He was still young and didn't have any disillusioned thoughts of protecting his country by turning into a hero. He valued his life too much to rush headfirst into danger.

His purpose today was to purchase the things he wouldn't be able to procure once he moved away. A small village far away from any town would be the ideal choice for his new home. Getting his hands on many things would be hard when living in such an area. If possible, he would like to stock up on as much essentials as he could.

The shopping took much of his evening and he was returning to his inn when he noticed a dark alley with terrible hygiene. Few beggars were sitting there listlessly. Their dim eyes seemed lifeless and their body spoke of just how terrible of a condition they were in. Protruding ribs could be seen underneath their skin void of almost and all fat insinuating their starvation. The over sized clothes gave off pungent smell and one could not tell what the original color of the fabric was anymore.

Seeing such depressing sight made Vincent despondent. He hurried back to the inn and left the things he bought in his room. He left just as quickly as he came and headed to a baker's shop. Though people rarely went to a shop of this kind at such a late hour, the owner still had to attend to his shop till sundown. After all, business was still business even if it was past the prime hour. He had been arguing with his annoying wife when a young man entered the shop. He ignored his wife's glare and put on an amicable smile on his face.

"How can I help you, young sir?"

"Wrap up three loafs of rye bread please. No, make it six."

"Certainly. Would you also like some jam to go with it? It's made in the house. This batch is specially fresh and came out really well."

"Just the bread will do."

"That will be twelve bronze coins."

Vincent handed the money to the baker and bought some dried meat and water from a local eatery. He went back to the dark alley. A strong stench assailed him as soon as he approached the occupants. He ignored the nauseating smell and broke the bread into several pieces before handing them out to the beggars.

The tramps often received a bite or two of food from people passing by. They had grown used to it and were numbed to the point that words of gratitude and praise habitually flowed out of their mouths. They flattered the young man handing them bread, even going as far as applauding him and his ancestors till their limited vocabulary ran out when they received dried meat.

Vincent was preparing to depart from this god forsaken place when 2 hooded men came by carrying a huge burlap bag. The men showed no care for the young man staring at them as they unloaded a body from the bag and left it in the corner of the alley. The duo departed as swiftly as they came and were soon nowhere to be seen.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Vincent hesitated for quite some time before making up his mind. He took steady steps towards the unmoving body and crouched near it. Long black hair that reached halfway to the waist and a terribly mangled face came into his sight. It was hard to see in the alleyway devoid of light, but he could still make out the terrible condition of the woman with just a glance.

A long internal struggle took place in his heart as he eventually made up his mind and walked away from the dark and gloomy alley and made his way towards the street filled with light and merry atmosphere. A beggar who was licking his filthy hands to not waste any bread crumb looked at the young man's back and spoke, "A wise choice, young sir. That thing will probably be a corpse in an hour or two. There's nothing you can do about it. These men often leave a body or two here and the guards will clear it up the next morning. Nobody cares about these soon to be dead people anyways."

Hearing the harsh words of the beggar reminded Vincent of his childhood. Images of the time when his mother was sick and in pain flashed through his mind. The wish of his then childish self echoed in his mind, "If only I could save mother......"

A strange impulse took over him and he rushed back to the woman, lifted her up and walked to his shop. His mind didn't register the strange gazes of the people as he walked with steady steps while observing the patient in his arms. The lithe arm bent in an unnatural way along with countless lacerations and bruises all over her body came to his attention now that he could see her in the light.

He kicked open the door of his shop and laid her down in a surgery table. He lit a lamp and prepared his surgery kit. A strong anesthesia was applied and a magical breathing device was attached to her mouth to ensure that she would breathe properly. He cut open the swollen parts of her face above her eyes to make it so that the eyelid could be opened and closed. He drained the blood from purple bruises throughout her body and stitched the lacerations.

The arm that was bent in an awkward manner needed to be fixed and it wasn't a simple treatment that was required but a surgery to fix the torn muscles. He forcefully manipulated the dislocated bone into its position and attached a splint to her arm and shoulder.

He breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the long treatment ended. It was two past midnight and he had been working on a near lifeless body for more than 6 hours. He wiped his sweat and looked at the stitched up patient. She looked dehydrated and he wanted to give her water to drink but didn't want to risk drowning her.

Treating an unconscious patient or someone with diseases wasn't his forte. He was only familiar with surgery and basic treatments. But, if she didn't get water soon, she would probably die and all his effort would have been for naught. He ran to the Jeweled Inn and knocked on the door hard. Housen opened the door moments later and grumbled sleepily, "Which drunkard is causing trouble so late at night."

Vincent ignored the sleepy guy and ran to his room. He lit a candle and turned the pages of a book repeatedly until he found what he was looking for. It was a spell to control the flow of liquid. He read the spell formula repeatedly and rushed down the stairs. He unlocked the door Housen had just closed and sprinted all the way to his shop. Housen wanted to shout at his unruly customer but chose to remain silent after remembering his bloodshot eyes and big wallet.

Vincent crushed a few medicinal pills and mixed them with water. He practiced the liquid controlling spell a few times and got the hang of it as it was just a simplified circle-less spell that didn't require the user to even be a first circle wizard. He poured the solution into the unconscious girl's mouth who had no swallow response.

'If I mess up now and the liquid goes down her wind pipe, she will drown and die.' The thought scared him and he turned tense. He focused like never before and led the solution down her esophagus slowly. He let out a sigh of relief once he succeeded and sat down on the chair without any strength in his body. A strong drowsiness came over him and he soon fell asleep.