Wasn’t that more or less the same thing? I couldn’t get the image of a great flaming dragon out of my head. “I just can’t believe a lizard could cause that much damage.”
“Well, it’s a pretty big lizard. It’s also incredibly fast. It may not be a genuine dragon, but it’s still a high-ranking monster.”
“I see.” With Jude’s description, my mental image of a salamander changed into something like a ten-meter Komodo dragon.
In either case, since this creature could breathe fire and move at high speed, I was absolutely confident that if I ever had to stand off against one…I would freeze on the spot and give up all hope of surviving.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine how terrifying it was for the knights to have to fight such a powerful monster. At last, the cart drew to a halt in front of a building at a far corner of the royal palace grounds.
A battlefield awaited us inside.
“How awful…” I murmured.
Jude was silent.
Normally, this was a reception room, but now it was filled with the grievously injured lying on the ground while doctors and nurses rushed between them. The groans of the salamander’s wounded victims filled the air.
From the grim cacophony, I heard a doctor shout, “Are those potions here yet?!”
Until this moment, I had been so carefree about living in the palace, then the institute, and with my meticulous potion-making. Now, my mind just stopped and I became rooted to the spot, stupefied by the horror.
Johan, who had led us in, clapped his hands. “Distribute the potions! You two, over there! Jude and Sei, hand them out on that side.”
“Yes, sir!” we said in unison.
I scooped up an armful of potions and began passing them to the doctors. They were stationed by the most severely wounded, and the second I handed over a vial, they administered the contents to their patients.
On account of the shortage, the doctors began with distributing low-grade HP potions to the severely wounded. The injured knights would have been able to make complete recoveries with mid-grade HP potions, but without enough of those on hand, the doctors knew something was better than nothing. For now, they had to stabilize those on the brink of death.
“What in the world?!” a doctor cried out in surprise.
She had just applied a potion to her patient, whose skin had been shredded by the salamander’s claws and whose breath was haggard. Yet now her patient’s wounds had completely vanished. Their eyes flew open as their pain evaporated, and they gingerly checked their body. Every single scratch was gone; even the color had returned to their face.
“That was a low-grade potion, wasn’t it…?” The doctor held up the empty vial to inspect it.
It was admittedly difficult to discern the grade of a potion once you had already used it up. I knew what was going on, but I kept it to myself. The doctor had indeed used a low-grade HP potion, but it wasn’t just any brew—it was one I had made. In other words, it was fifty percent more effective and therefore behaved more like a mid-grade potion.
I scurried away to dole out more potions before the doctor could ask me anything further. As I went, I heard other doctors and nurses voice their bewilderment, but I did my best to keep my head down.
Right now, I was focused on getting my potions into the hands of those who needed them.
“Do we have any high-grade HP potions?” someone called from the back of the room.
I looked in the direction of the voice to find a huddle of doctors and knights.
Were they the ones who called out just now?
I still had a mid-grade potion, so I hurried to bring it over. As I got closer, I heard more of their nervous debate.
“This will be a challenge even with a high-grade potion. Isn’t there anyone who can use Healing Magic?”
“Even if they could, they’d have to be at least Level 4.”
“What about the Saint? Can’t she use Level 4 Healing Magic?”
“Prince Kyle forbade us from subjecting the Saint to such horrible sights,” an official apologized.
“What? That’s absurd!” snapped a knight.
By Kyle, they meant the rude, redheaded crown prince who looked like he’d go bald in the future.
I admit, the wounds of the grievously injured were gruesome to behold without anything to censor them. I had a relative tolerance for the sight from watching slasher movies, but the scene was by no means easy to look at. I did my best to avert my eyes as I passed out my potions. Sweet little Aira, though, would most likely have fainted upon seeing something like this.
The knight who lashed out at the official was undoubtedly a friend of the patient in dire need. I couldn’t tell the severity of their wounds because of the crowd, but they were clearly in an awful state if even a high-grade HP potion wouldn’t guarantee their recovery.
Once I was close, I realized Johan was among the gathered. When he noticed me, he said, “Sei! Do we have any high-grade HP potions?”
“If you do, then please, give it to the knight commander!”
When I turned in the direction of the person who had spoken, doctors and nurses burst into a flurry of movement.
It seemed the patient’s condition had taken a sudden turn for the worse. I pushed my way through the crowd to reach them.
As I drew closer, I discovered the upper-right half of the patient’s body was scorched to a crisp. He was covered in deep gashes as well, including one so broad that it was surely a miracle he was still alive. His ragged breathing began to weaken.
“Step aside!” I pushed past a doctor to get a closer look at the injured man. He clearly didn’t have many more breaths left in this world. I swiftly extracted one of the high-grade HP potions I had stuffed in my apron pocket, popped out the cork, and brought it to his lips.
“Drink!” I pleaded.
Slowly but surely, his blackened lips parted, and he gulped it down. Everyone, the doctors, nurses, knights, and officials, watched with bated breath.
I don’t know how long it took—time sort of stopped for me somewhere—but once the patient finished the whole vial, his head fell back on his pillow. There, bit by bit, his charred black skin peeled and flaked away, revealing perfectly whole and healed skin beneath. His breathing eased and didn’t stop, like I had feared—instead, he fell into a gentle sleep.
I sighed with relief from the stress of it all, and cheers broke out around me.