Chapter 1:
Attack of the Killer Bees
SUNLIGHT POURED THROUGH THE SWAYING CURTAINS, filling the white room of the clinic.
The voices of cheerful children could be heard from outside the window, and although they were a little rowdy, they were a sign of peace. Not a bad sound to wake up to.
He opened his eyes, feeling strange about sleeping through the sunrise but disinclined to say anything about it. The white ceiling filled his gaze. He never stuck around in the same place for too long, so unfamiliar ceilings were the norm for him. However, he had finally gotten used to the one in the inn he had been staying at ever since he arrived on the continent.
Hospitalization left one with a lot of free time. His attending physician scolded him like a demon after he said he wanted to start swinging his sword again. He thought that he could also sneak some sets of push-ups secretly when he wasn’t looking. But then the doctor started doing paperwork in his room, seemingly having seen through his ploy.
He protested, asking the doctor what he would do if a patient came along. The doctor replied, “I have someone manning the reception desk. Besides, my small clinic doesn’t get many visitors.”
That was the end of that.
The doctor had a point; people’s prevailing situations prohibited most of them from going to the doctor every time they had a cold. Their finances wouldn’t allow it. The patient felt a little bad about thinking this, but the clinic was too small to provide services for a wealthy clientele too.
Zig sighed, sinking into his bed, resigned to being prohibited from moving his body.
The bed in the clinic was softer than the one at the inn. This caused Zig some discomfort, since he was used to camping out and cheap accommodations.
“Is business doing okay?” Zig asked, unable to resist his curiosity. He wasn’t exactly worried, he was just trying to kill time.
Dorea was quite the nag despite his peaceful clinic, but he also had a portly stomach. He probably wasn’t poor. Maybe he was the son of a wealthy man who ran a clinic as a hobby, but he was too wise for it to be true.
Dorea pushed his small spectacles up and wrote something in his medical chart.
“Oh, that. It’s practically impossible for doctors to go hungry in a town with a thriving adventuring industry. Not with the constant flow of patients.”
Dorea scratched his cheek, not sure whether to take pleasure in or lament the fact that there would always be people who needed his services, revealing the integrity of his character. The constant flow of injured adventurers turned out to be a steadier stream of income for the doctor than Zig thought.
“My clinic is small and isn’t in the best of locations, but it’s perfect for people who have been turned away everywhere else.”
Dorea stopped and Zig noticed his conflicted smile.
“Besides, I’ve had many chances to work lately. It all started with some adventurers from the Wadatsumi clan who got beat up. Then more people came in after they got injured chasing a bounty. Finally, I had to take care of a certain someone who almost died. It has been terribly busy.”
Dorea winked at him as if to say “Even doctors need a day off at some point, no?”
Zig didn’t object and only pulled the covers over his body, reminding himself that this physician was not to be messed with.
Zig continued to be hospitalized… At least when he wasn’t attempting to leave, slipping through his observers when he got the chance. He ended up getting an earful after that, but for the most part, his recovery was going well.
While Siasha watched over him, Zig sighed as his final medical examination came to a close. He felt strangely exhausted for some reason.
“Your recovery capacity is as amazing as always. Your injuries were so dire that it would’ve killed an ordinary person twice over. But here you are, able to move normally.”
“Indeed. You really looked like you were going to die back then. I should know, after killing a lot of people in my time.”
Dorea looked amazed as Siasha nodded in agreement. Even Dorea considered Zig’s regenerative capabilities astounding, and he had been a physician to many adventurers who were proud of their physical toughness.
The combination of Zig’s natural physical robustness and training, coupled with the healing magic unique to this continent, made it something of a miracle. They made his recovery all but normal. An unexpected advantage as long as you turned a blind eye to the one drawback: copious amounts of food.
“You would make an excellent adventurer if you had more mana,” Dorea lamented.
The two factors couldn’t coexist, though Dorea was kept in the dark about it. Perhaps it was because one individual couldn’t possibly possess so many talents, but Zig’s physical makeup and the people of his home continent were different. Their prowess was a product of training because they didn’t have magic where Zig came from. On the flip side, the people of this continent were physically weaker because they relied on magic.
This was Siasha’s theory about Zig’s recovery, but he found it very convincing after experiencing it himself.
“No point in wanting something I can’t have,” Zig said nonchalantly, brushing the subject away. He couldn’t exactly tell Dorea that he came from another continent, after all. He wasn’t about to let the doctor run some tests on him like a science experiment either. Being strapped to a bed this long was bad enough. He needed to get moving again, and soon.
“But your companion has so much magic in comparison. I guess women really are different.”
Zig stopped just as he was about to get up, hankering to get a sword in his hands again. The conversation had taken an interesting turn.
“What does being a woman have to do with magic?” Siasha wondered, her thoughts lining up with Zig’s.
Zig had heard of this before but had dismissed it, considering it hearsay. However, Dorea didn’t seem to be the type to believe in rumors, so there must be some kernel of truth in the saying.
“Well, let me preface by saying there isn’t a definitive explanation for it yet.”
With that disclaimer out of the way, Dorea started his explanation as he cleared his medical tools…
“Research has found that women have higher average and median mana values than men, taking into account individual differences. The difference is around 30 percent.”
“That’s pretty significant…”
Zig and Siasha were surprised at the gap.
That difference made sense when you really thought about it. The disparity of muscle mass between men and women was undeniable. There was no contest when it came to muscular density between the sexes even among those who were in the same weight class. That was why there were no female mercenaries on Zig’s continent. At most, they were relegated to being medics and weren’t found on the front lines. Some took up swordsmanship for self-defense, but only so they could have a chance to escape.
“Yet, the male-female ratio is still six to four—no, seven to three. Quite extraordinary.”
“Why is there such a big difference?”
Siasha was asking the right questions, but were witches even comparable to human women? Granted, there were no male witches, but the difference between a witch’s mana and a human’s was astronomical to the point that comparing the two seemed comical.
Dorea mused on the question seriously, seeming to have little grasp on the details of the subject himself.
“Some posit that the body compensates for the lack of muscle mass by piling on mana. But, my personal theory is that the difference lies in one’s ability to host life. To give birth, in short.”
“Ooh.”
“People take it for granted, but creating life is a momentous and amazing task. And women are the only ones capable of doing it. Perhaps this is the source of their mana!”
“I see!”