Thus, Sansui emerged victorious from his battle with Locomo Lloyd. However, having suffered the grave injury of losing his right hand, he was promptly taken for treatment.
Laid upon a bed in a small hut near the central mountain, Sansui first underwent the stitching of his wound. The one performing the procedure was a young female Tengu—not “young” merely in appearance, but likely close to Sansui in age.
“So we won’t be using Divine Ginseng?” she confirmed.
“That’s right. I understand they’re part of your precious reserves.”
“That is appreciated. They’re not really something to be used casually, especially not for the aftermath of celebratory displays.”
For ordinary humans, Divine Ginseng was an exceedingly rare and valuable treasure, which was why so many sought it. But even for Immortals and Tengu, it was not something to be used lightly.
The reason Suiboku had been able to gift such a large quantity to the Arcana Kingdom was because he had drawn upon Immortal energy he had stored within the forest for fifteen hundred years. In other words, without such accumulated Immortal energy, mass production was impossible. They were ordinarily made regularly but only in small amounts.
“Honestly...what a reckless thing to do.”
The Tengu stitching the wound looked exasperated by its severity. Had it been an accident, that would be one thing—but this injury had been sustained in a friendly exchange match, which made it all the more absurd. A warrior might view it as acceptable, but to someone involved in medicine, it was nothing short of outrageous.
“By the way, I never introduced myself. I’m Tengu Fusabis. My studies focus on healing, particularly the Medicinal Arts.”
“Th-Thank you... I’ve trained mainly in swordsmanship, along with the Arts of Flash Step and Inner Body Techniques.”
Unlike his master or himself—with their black hair and black eyes, the so-called ‘Eastern’ look—this Tengu had neither that nor the dark complexion of someone from Magyan. Instead, she had vividly colored hair and eyes, more typical of those living near the Arcana Kingdom. Dressed in mountain ascetic garb, she looked like a “Tengu” in two different senses—at least from a Japanese perspective.
“I’ve heard you’re five hundred years old, but you’re already close to returning to nature. As expected of the world’s strongest all-round Immortal, acknowledged by the Great Tengu—your training is truly top-tier.”
“Y-You flatter me...”
“You’re far too proper—I mean to say you underestimate yourself. To a worldly Tengu like me, it’s painful to watch. Take better care of yourself.”
A girl who felt not much different from himself spoke to him as an equal, despite the fact that he himself had lived for five hundred years. The experience felt strangely refreshing.
After all, until now, everyone around him had either been over a thousand years older, like his master or the Eight Sacred Treasures, or nearly five hundred years younger. He had rarely met anyone who was truly his contemporary.
“Lady Fusabis, the alcoholic mix is ready.”
“Why are you bringing alcohol?!”
“Just kidding—it’s a medicinal tonic.”
The one carrying the decoction of herbs was a woman trained in the way of the Consecrated Maidens. She wore the appropriate robes as well, but her Western facial features made the sight slightly disorienting.
“Now then, drink up.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s poison to ordinary people, but medicine for Tengu and Immortals. Drink it, then sleep. You Immortals are good at staying still, right? Ah—but don’t go and return to nature while you’re at it.”
Something that was ‘poison to normal humans yet medicine to Immortals’ was a little unsettling—but Sansui drained the medicinal tonic from the small ceramic vessel resembling a sake cup without hesitation. The warmth was just right, seeping through his entire body. If anything, it only made the loss of his right hand all the more astute.
“How is he doing, Rose?”
“Good. He’s improving.”
Rose appeared to be measuring Sansui’s condition using a Consecrated Maiden technique, and at her brisk reply, Fusabis visibly relaxed.
Sansui watched her with mild surprise. For himself and Suiboku, simply sensing another’s presence was enough to grasp their physical condition—so it struck him as strange that a physician like her could not do the same.
“Is there something you would like to say?” Fusabis asked.
“Wouldn’t an Immortal or a Tengu be able to tell someone’s condition just by reading their aura?”
“Well, I can do it to some extent, but practitioners of the Consecrated Maiden path are far better at it. That’s why I leave it to them.”
So it was simply a matter of division of labor—perhaps like the relationship between a doctor and an X-ray technician.
“More importantly—you’re a swordsman, not a physician. How can you understand physical conditions in such detail? For Lord Suiboku to train you to that level... I can’t comprehend it.”
Taking the empty cup from Sansui’s hand, Fusabis spoke sharply. There was nothing but seriousness in her eyes.
“You said you trained mainly in Flash Step and Inner Body Techniques... You do know those are entirely separate systems, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
From the perspective of Fusabis, an ordinary “Tengu” like Sansui having mastered both must have seemed like an anomaly.
“I can’t even use Feather Step, which is the foundation of Inner Body Arts. In fact, most Immortals and Tengu are the same. Beyond the bare minimum techniques, we usually master only a single line of study. The only exceptions are your master—and perhaps Lord Fukei.”
In other words, Suiboku—who had mastered every art—was an anomaly, and Fukei, who followed in his footsteps, was likewise an anomaly. Even Immortals, despite their limitless time, would not normally bother attempting such a thing.
“When you spread yourself across multiple systems, you end up incomplete and half-baked. Even the Great Tengu has mastered Void Arts—but that’s only because of his extraordinary lifespan. His true profession is treasure crafting...for better or worse.”
Having said that, she retrieved a wooden forearm from a large box in the room. It was a wooden limb crafted to human proportions. To an ordinary person it might have seemed like mere decoration, but Sansui immediately understood what it was.
“That’s a noble treasure as well?”
“Yes—a wooden prosthetic arm. I’ll adjust the length, so I’ll need to move your posture a bit.”
She guided him to hold both arms—his wounded right and intact left—straight out in front of him, aligning them to check the lengths. She marked the wood to match the left arm precisely, cut it down, then filed it smooth. Once finished, she attached the arm to Sansui.