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WORKING in the first-aid room felt like being in a school nurse’s office during an overly rambunctious Field Day or an emergency room during the holidays. Amy wondered whether first-aid rooms during tournaments were always like this. There was a constant stream of injured people.
Some of the participants walked there on their own, while others stumbled in supported by a friend or were carried in on stretchers. They even saw a referee that had taken the brunt of an intense attack and a spectator (escorted there by guards) that had gotten overly rowdy and injured themselves.
There just wasn’t enough time or magic to heal everyone perfectly.
People with minor injuries were given normal, non-magical care by the nurses—Amy and the other healing magicians prioritized severely wounded patients.
But even then, the magicians used their healing magic pragmatically on the injuries—stopping the bleeding, closing the lacerations. They didn’t waste magic on cosmetic elements, like erasing scaring.
The healing magicians may have been performing first-aid, but they were also the top healers in the kingdom. There was a marked difference between their treatments and the medical care received in town.
“My god, this is amazing! I’m sorry for underestimating you, milady!”
The middle-aged adventurer’s eyes widened, and he enthusiastically swung around the shoulder that had just been injured.
Not too long ago he had been grumbling, “I can’t be healed by a little girl!” Amy allowed a smile at his change of heart.
Amy had gotten used to those sorts of reactions—she’d been getting comments like that incessantly since the preliminary matches.
But anyone who had visited the first-aid room even once before knew first-hand how excellent of a healing magician Amy was. The man sitting before her today was a part of a team that had been exempted from the preliminary rounds, so it was his first time seeing her.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore, right?”
“No! And the bleeding’s totally stopped! I can’t believe my eyes!”
“The wound isn’t completely closed, so try to avoid strenuous exercise for two or three days.”
“Really? I feel like I could go hunting tonight if I wanted to!”
“…Surely not?” Amy asked, turning her big eyes up at him. She felt gutted that he would go get himself hurt again after everything she’d done to heal him.
“O-Okay, I get it!” the muscular adventurer said, suddenly timid. “I don’t want those guys glaring at me like that, either!”
Platinum-haired Finneas, treating a patient beside them, was shooting the man accusatory glances, and the intimidating glare Sir Dion sent him from further in the room would outmatch even the fiercest ice attack from a magical beast.
“I’ll listen to what you say, milady! I may have lost this time, but I’ll definitely be back for the next tournament! Make sure you heal me again then, okay?”
“Of course. But I’d be much happier if you won without getting hurt.”
“Hahaha! I’m on it!”
The man left noisily, his belly-laugh trailing behind him. Another patient immediately took his place, and Amy repeated the healing process. She had short breaks in between the rotations, where she tried her best to stuff her mouth with cott nuts to replenish her magic power.
I promised Ed that I’d cheer for him, but…how much time has passed?
Amy wondered what had happened during Edward, Harold, and Prince Jahal’s matches. She wanted to know how things were progressing, but simply had no time to find out.
As impatient as she felt, she couldn’t just leave the injured patients to go check.
The same thing happened with the individual matches yesterday. The more time passed, the more intense the matches became, and the worse the injuries were.
Neither Edward nor Harold had been to the first-aid room, which meant that they hadn’t received injuries serious enough to need healing. That, at least, gave her some comfort.
Amy had just seen off a group of patients who had just finished receiving treatment. She sighed, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. When she saw the next person enter the first-aid room, she stood up with such force the chair toppled over on the ground with a clatter.
“Prince Jahal?!”
“Amy! Just as I promised, I came so you could heal me.”
Jahal’s face was ghastly pale, his clothes were dirty, and he clutched at his left arm, which was oozing blood. He acted as confident and self-assured as he always did, but he seemed somewhat deflated. Amy could tell he had lost his match.
Ignoring the nurse, who tried to direct him over to Sir Dion, Jahal plopped down into the chair right in front of Amy. His two teammates had injuries that looked much worse than his, but they hurried to wait behind the prince.
“I’ll heal you right away,” Amy told Prince Jahal. “Um…” she added, looking at the other two. “You two can be treated over in those seats—”
“No. We will be taken care of afterward.”
“Our lord will be healed first.”
Although she was slightly flustered from the shock of his arrival, Amy insisted that everyone receive medical treatment, but they just shook their heads. They doubled down on their assertion that they wouldn’t get help until they were sure Jahal received proper care. The master-servant relationships in Bakr seemed to be very strong.
Seeing Sir Dion nod, Amy finally assented and reached out her hand.
“Then I’ll hurry and heal you. Put your arm there.”
“Sure thing. Thanks.”
She looked at the injury on his left arm, which seemed to be the worst of it. Pushing aside the torn sleeve, Amy examined the cut. The tendons and major blood vessels were unscathed.
“I’ll touch your arm now to stop the bleeding and close up the wound. Just relax.”
As soon as Amy touched him, Jahal hissed in pain. Healing magic flowed from her fingertips to cover up the pain of the wound.
She closed her eyes to concentrate. Against the blackness of her eyelids, Amy suddenly saw a vision of Letizia’s face, her eyes welling with tears.
It’ll be okay, Letty. I’ll heal him.
Letty always tried to act so courageously, but she really had been worried about Jahal… As Amy thought about this, her feelings blended into her magical power.
The magic that flowed from her fingertips suddenly took on a soft glow and wrapped around the injured part of his arm. The light fluctuated in intensity, like the flickering of a firefly, and the wound it surrounded healed right before their eyes. Jahal and his teammates watched with visible shock.
“This is…”
I think that should be enough.
Sensing the reaction to her treatment, Amy stopped the flow of her magic and opened her eyes. The cut had been completely healed.
Completely, totally healed.
The laceration on his arm had closed completely, and there wasn’t even the faintest hint of a scar. When Amy looked up, she saw that even the scratches on his cheek had disappeared. She could only see his smooth skin and his handsome features arranged into a shocked expression.
“…Oh,” she said.
I overdid it! I didn’t heal anyone else this well! Oh! But then again…he’s a prince, and this is probably a good thing for maintaining relations with the Kingdom of Bakr…right? Oh gosh, what should I have done?!
“I… I, uh…” Amy stammered.
“Amy,” Jahal interrupted.
“D-Does something else hurt—”
“Miss,” one of Jahal’s team members said, “what on earth was—”
“That’s enough,” said Jahal, raising his hand and silencing him. “You’re really talented, Amy. I’m very satisfied!”
“Th-Thank you. Wha—?”
Jahal suddenly stood.
“I’ll be leaving. You two stay and get healed first,” he ordered the two men standing behind him. He took hold of Amy’s arm and pulled her toward him.
“W-Wait a second!”
“Sir Dion, I’m going to borrow Amy,” Jahal said.
Sir Dion looked up at them, silent for a moment.
“…Understood.”
“P-Professor?!”
“Take a break, Amy,” Sir Dion insisted.
“But—”
Injured patients were coming in one after the other. Amy was perplexed. Sir Dion waved his hand at her impatiently to leave.
She looked to Finneas for help, but for whatever reason, he kept himself busy and didn’t meet her gaze. She knew he could hear them, but he didn’t say anything, so Amy assumed her absence wouldn’t be a problem, but…
“I will accompany you, Your Highness,” Scott quickly offered.
“There’s no need. Let’s go, Amy.”
Jahal started walking, dragging Amy along by her wrist. A guard knight could not disobey the words of a royal.
And so, Amy was dragged out of the first-aid room.