The demi-human was no longer injured—when he had, moments ago, definitely been severely wounded. And the only person nearby had been this girl.
“Did you just...heal him?” Zenos asked, gesturing at the second man as he turned to face Arty.
“Did you just heal this man?” Arty asked, gesturing at the first man as she turned to face Zenos.
A hint of surprise colored both their voices.
Having been taught first by an eccentric mentor and then learning through trial and error thereafter, Zenos had grown up unaware of what were considered common healing practices. He’d once believed all healers could regenerate limbs and organs, but over time, through experience, he’d realized that wasn’t the case at all. Yet somehow this girl had performed seemingly flawless treatment on a badly injured patient.
“I see. So other healers can regenerate limbs,” Zenos muttered.
“I...don’t think that’s the right conclusion,” Lily said.
The demi-humans all gasped in awe.
“Damn,” Zophia said.
“I’m shocked,” Lynga added.
“There’s a healer as good as Zenos out there?” Loewe mumbled.
Arty blinked her pale pink eyes. “I...see. So you can do this too.” She turned her gaze toward Zenos. “You’re Zenos, right? Are you an elite healer?”
“Uh, no. I’m just a back-alley healer, as you can see,” Zenos replied.
“A back-alley healer...and you can do that? No way! That’s incredible!”
“Are you an elite healer?”
“I’m...just a cute maid, as you can see.” After a moment’s hesitation, Arty gripped the hem of her apron dress and spun around. Now that she’d eaten, she seemed a bit more energetic.
“Zenos,” whispered a voice in the shadow healer’s ear.
“Yikes!” he yelped. That had to be Carmilla, whispering from the shadows into which she’d vanished. “Floaty snaaake! How many times have I asked you not to—”
“Something is not right about that female healer,” Carmilla cut in.
“What do you mean?”
“I do not think she used healing magic.”
“Huh...?” Zenos narrowed his eyes at the darkness. “But she regenerated his foot. If that wasn’t magic, what was it?”
“I know not.”
“You actually don’t know something? Wow.”
“Ugh. How humiliating for she who was once the greatest sage in all the continent!”
“You were the greatest sage in all of the continent? Really?”
“No.”
“Now’s not the time to make stuff up!”
In the end, though the means were unclear, one thing was certain: Arty had just saved the life of a young demi-human.
Zenos turned back to her. “Anyway, you saved him. Thank you.”
Arty’s pink eyes widened in surprise at the casual gratitude. “Did you...just...thank me?”
“Yeah. Is that a problem?”
“N-No...it’s fine. Honestly, I shouldn’t be healing people like that...” Arty glanced down at her own hands, then gave a small smile. “But I’m glad I could repay you for the bread.”
Still, there was the matter of what came next. Zenos didn’t know where Arty planned to go, but he couldn’t just let her cross the mountain at night. He considered suggesting she camp with them until morning, then take the safer route around the mountain in daylight.
Arty fidgeted anxiously with her fingers. “I can’t stay long. I really need to go...”
“Doc! Something’s coming again!” Zophia warned.
The rustling of bushes and the sound of heavy footsteps crushing overgrown grass echoed through the forest. But the sounds weren’t coming from the monster-infected mountains—they were coming from the direction of the city district. Torchlights dotted the distance, appearing here and there between the trees, gradually increasing in number.
A group was approaching them.
“Is that...the Royal Guard?”
Faintly visible in the glow of the flames was a flag adorned with a coat of arms showing a sword and shield flanking a sun—representing knights guarding the king.
Arty’s face suddenly grew tense. “Um, I have a request.”
“What is it?” Zenos asked.
“My...tummy hurts rather badly. Might I rest in one of your tents?”
“So you want us to hide you, basically.”
“You could put it that way.”
“What did you do?”
“How rude! I’ve only ever done good deeds!”
Arty looked genuinely desperate—she didn’t seem to be joking.
“All right. You did save that young man.” Zenos let out a sigh, then turned to Lily. “Lily, can you take Arty to a tent?”
“Okay! This way, Miss Arty!”
Lily took Arty’s hand and quickly led her into one of the tents in the camp. Shortly after, a group of Royal Guards from the capital swept into the lakeside camp to impose order.
A bearded middle-aged man looked down at the group from atop his horse.
“Slum dwellers, are you? What are you lot doing here?”
Zenos didn’t recognize the man. In turn, the man didn’t seem to recognize any of them—perhaps the dim lighting played a part, but still, Zophia was a very prominent figure in the slums. Perhaps this man was newly appointed.
“Camping, as you can see,” Zenos said nonchalantly.
“Camping?” the man echoed.
“Yes. We swam in the lake earlier, and just now we were gathered around the campfire telling some ghost stories.”
The man glanced over at the crackling fire and the tilted cauldron. “Has a girl come through here?”
“A girl?”
“Pink hair, servant’s clothing.”
“Haven’t seen anyone like that,” Zenos said with a small shrug.
The man, however, showed no signs of leaving. He fixed Zenos with an unpleasant, calculating stare.
“Is that so? I’ll have you know, hiding her comes with dire consequences. But provide useful information, and you’ll be rewarded handsomely.”
“And who do you think you are to barge in like this?” Zophia asked, looking irritated.
“She’s right! We were just having a good time,” said a young demi-human.
“Yeah, you’re ruining our camping fun,” Lynga protested.
“We’re not giving you any food,” Loewe pointed out.
“That’s right!” said another young demi-human.
The two youths who’d just been healed were still asleep on the grass, but without any visible injuries, they just looked like they’d passed out drunk. Still, the guard remained suspicious.
“I’ll check just in case,” he said.
He hopped off his horse, strode toward the nearest tent, and lifted the flap in one forceful motion. But there was nothing inside—just folded bedding in the corner.
Lily and Arty were hiding in a different tent further back. The man marched straight toward it, and just as Zenos was about to try and stop him, a sharp voice called out from behind the guard.
“Sir Seagall, we should go.”
“Why?” the man asked. “She might be hiding here.”
“They are poor. If they knew anything, they would already have said something to get the reward. Besides, if our target is trying to cross the mountains at this hour, we cannot afford to dawdle. She will be in grave danger.”
The man looked up at the mountains, looming in the dark.
“You have a point. If these rats didn’t jump at the reward, they must really not know. The mountains are dangerous—we must secure her, and quickly.”
He leaped back onto his horse, shouted “Hyah!” and led the unit off toward the mountains.
Zenos exhaled in relief, unclenching his fists. That had been close. If not for that intervention, things could’ve ended very badly for them. And the intervening voice...didn’t he know it from somewhere?
“Mr. Zenos!” cried the intervening guard who’d stayed behind in the twilight before rushing over and throwing her arms around him. Her flowing hair was the color of gold, her eyes blue, and she had a magic pistol perched on each hip.
“Krishna,” Zenos said. “It’s been a while.”
“Mr. Zenos! Oh, Mr. Zenooos!”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. You’re crushing me. Personal space, please.”
Zenos managed to push back the overly enthusiastic Krishna, who then clutched her chest as if overwhelmed with emotion.
“To think I would run into you in a place like this!” she exclaimed. “Truly, fate itself must be bringing us together!”