LTTH C4

Chapter 4

 

“…If that’s what you want, by all means.”

A heavy voice broke the brief silence, and the soldiers who had been standing quietly resumed their movements. Their eyes still looked at him as if he were something strange, but fewer stares gathered than before. Letting out a sigh inwardly, Hansol turned to go. If he said one more time that he wanted to keep healing here, he would suffocate under the gazes.

“Healer! The wounded are over here…!”

A soldier with a still-boyish face mustered his courage and, wearing a stiff expression, guided Hansol’s gaze to one side. Tents were set up in various spots, and among them a white-clothed one stood out prominently. The unspoken rules of the battlefield seemed to apply here as well. Hearing faint groans, Hansol moved there.

As expected, the tent was packed with the wounded. Some had received simple first aid, while others had eyes devoid of life, as if already resigned. After scanning the scene once, Hansol checked his status window.

“About 500 mana left.”

His only skills were Heal, Healing Light, and Prayer of Healing. He would have to choose the most efficient among them. It would be ideal if they could be cast simultaneously.

Keeping Prayer of Healing active while repeatedly invoking Healing Light would be best… but generally, a healer’s sustained skill and a single-use skill could not be used together. At least, that had been the common knowledge Hansol knew until now.

“Should I try it…?”

So the decision to gamble could be chalked up to simple curiosity. His frozen level had risen, and he had acquired new skills. The soaring elation led naturally to a certain arrogant thought.

“Prayer of Healing, Healing Light.”

The two skills spilled from his lips with not a hair’s breadth between them. They shouldn’t activate, of course. Contrary to Hansol’s expectation, however, as mana drained away, the softly spreading pink motes were accompanied by a far wider halo of light.

“It works?”

The unexpected gain added a touch more confidence. Was there a hidden secret among healers, or was he special? He didn’t know, but in that moment, he felt as though he truly might be someone special.

“Healer…?”

A faint voice threaded through the spreading glow. Eyes gone round. The same look—the same blend of shock and confusion he’d received when he had first dropped onto the battlefield.

Judging by the use of the word “healer,” this dimension did have healers. Even so, the way they were startled at every turn suggested that healers here were treated as even rarer nobles than in Korea—or that relations with them were extremely poor. Either way, it felt like he wouldn’t be killed on the spot, and Hansol quietly exhaled in relief.

“Just one month. I only have to endure one month.”

If he could survive one month in another dimension, the pocket watch’s magic would fully recharge. Then he could return to his original world. That was the purpose of the artifact he’d been given. So there was only one task here: keep a low profile and stay alive for a month. That was all.

Watching the light ripple outward from him, Hansol shifted his gaze. If many needed more healing, he would use Healing Light; otherwise, he would use Heal. Conserving mana was always the right choice, no matter when or where.

“Huh?”

While surveying injuries and their severity, a familiar face caught his eye. The half-corpse. The one who had, at last, regained a little color along with a hope of extended life.

“It bothered me anyway…”

He had intended to check on him even if the mood hadn’t been so heavy; he hadn’t expected to run into him like this.

Hansol moved to the spot beside the man who had been a half-corpse. About 300 mana remained. It wasn’t exactly abundant, but it would do for now. After invoking Healing Light a couple more times and keeping Prayer of Healing rolling, Hansol reached out a hand to the man.

“Heal.”

A pure white radiance shot solely toward the man. Perhaps because his level had risen, the healing seemed different—no longer a weak glow, but a vivid, bright white. The unhelpful skill description still read, “Slightly restores the injuries of one target,” but perhaps the degree of that “slightly” had shifted along with his level.

“Has it… changed a lot?”

Even to the naked eye, his severe injuries were knitting together at a remarkable pace. It was the most basic heal. There was no way mere Heal should do this. If it had always been like this, healers wouldn’t struggle so hard to level up, and Hansol wouldn’t have been scorned.

“What’s different?”

Could the other dimension itself have brought some change? He pondered, but no easy answer emerged.

“Um, Healer.”

“Yes?”

“Is there any chance you can save my arm?”

When he turned at the approach of someone else, a young man missing an arm was mumbling with his head deeply bowed.

“I don’t want to die. I want to live. On this battlefield.”

At his small movement, the cloth wrapped around his left side fluttered emptily. With the thick smell of blood, tears streamed down his cheeks. Despite losing an arm and the clouded expression on his face, what had made this young man so desperate?

“And if I can’t work, my family will starve.”

Family. It was a word that had nothing to do with Hansol. On the day the Great Catastrophe began, he had lost everything.

A new quest has arrived.

“…?”

The young man before him has a heartbreaking family situation. Of course, if you comb this entire dimension, you’ll find countless others with even more tragic circumstances. But why not start by saving the one before you, eyes filled with despair right now? Regenerate his left arm. With your current power, you can do it!

Reward on success: ???

Penalty on failure: Disappointment of ???

The system message was the same color as his status window. Hansol blinked dumbly. A quest window? …Had he gone mad? He rubbed his eyes at the absurdity. The window floating in the air showed no intention of vanishing.

“Is it real?”

In all his years as a hunter, he had never seen or heard of a quest appearing. Of course, someone could have hidden it intentionally. But it had been five whole years since he became a healer. Not once in that time had a quest window appeared. And now, like this?

“Healer?”

With the young man’s anxious eyes, numbers appeared on the quest window. 10, 9, 8, 7… He didn’t need to think hard to know what the steadily decreasing number meant. Even if there was a penalty, it was only the disappointment of who-knew-who. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Hansol accepted without hesitation.

Quest accepted.

With that brief line, the quest window vanished.

“What am I supposed to do?”

In place of the vanished quest window, the young man’s tearful face filled his view. Unhelpful. Just as unhelpful as the skill descriptions.

“Let’s try something first.”

“Thank you!”

He didn’t know how to proceed, but a quest had appeared for the first time in his life. He had to try something.

“Heal.”

He began with the most basic skill, but nothing changed. Or rather, aside from the man’s other wounds closing a bit cleaner, there was no sign that the missing arm would return.

“Healing Light.”

A gentle white glow spread from Hansol. The young man’s face gained a bit more color, but the severed arm remained the same.

“If only I had a regeneration skill…”

A limb-regenerating skill could be learned at level 30. Naturally, it was a distant goal for Hansol, who had just touched level 15. His experience gain, unlike before, was now creeping up at an ant’s pace. At this rate, the man would likely be expelled from the battlefield long before he reached level 30.

Hansol looked at the young man’s remaining right arm. The arm of someone who had worked hard—a map of scars and dense muscle that told the story of a life far from easy.

“I—is it impossible…?”

After several waves of light, the young man’s face darkened further, and his head drooped. Hansol’s head sank with it. It was his lack of ability, plain and simple. No excuse needed.

“…I’m sorry.”

Hansol cast one last Heal and stepped back slightly. As expected, it couldn’t be done. Regeneration was a level-30 skill, and he wasn’t there yet. The quest window must have been a hallucination. A well-made hallucination.

“H-huh?”

“…?”

“It—it’s back! It’s back, Healer!”

“What?”

“That can’t be…?”