Chapter 122: Sixth-circle Magic
Anxiety surged within me as I surveyed the expectant faces in the crowd. Nearly five hundred strong, the assembly comprised of the crippled, the terminally ill, and an assortment of deformed individuals. My hands twitched towards the cowl of my cloak as I stood before them, but I forced them to remain at my sides. Sylvus raised his hand, commanding the attention of the gathering.
"You have been gathered here today to assist the Fate Hero in perfecting her magic. As has been explained to you, she will attempt to heal the maladies that afflict you, regardless of their severity or scale. While her powers are miraculous, we give no promise that you will be restored to full health. Those who wish to participate will be expected to treat her kindly and with respect, even if the outcome is not as you desire. Any transgressions will be dealt with severely."
The elf’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the crowd, emanating an aura of authority. Beneath that stern exterior, I sensed his concern and care, which, combined with Fyren’s reassuring presence beside me, gave me the strength to step forward.
As I moved to stand beside Sylvus, I couldn’t help but be overly conscious of my tail, which swished nervously behind me. The crowd’s gaze shifted towards me, and a heavy weight settled on my shoulders. I stood there, silent, for several agonizing moments, grappling for courage. Taking a deep breath, I harnessed my mana for extra support and forced myself to speak through the tightness in my chest.
"You’ve come here in the arms of those who have supported you throughout your lives. I may not possess the strength of the other heroes, but I am determined to do what I can. So, um, please have patience with me, and I promise to give my best so that you won’t have to be carried anywhere, ever again."
As I finished, Sylvus motioned for his attendants to organize the hundreds into smaller groups. I watched, my muscles still trembling from the anxiety of addressing such a large crowd. I had been the subject of attention before, but those instances had been thrust upon me. Even the few sentences I shared had drained me more than any spell had before.
Fyren laid a hand on my shoulder, startling me, but his confident voice soothed my jitters. "You did well. Was that your first time speaking to such a large gathering?"
I nodded, finally releasing my tight grip on my mana. As the comforting warmth left my soul, I sagged against his support, taking shallow breaths. "Never again," I whispered. I had gained a newfound respect for Soltair, who displayed such confidence and poise in front of so many.
He chuckled, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I find it hard to believe you’re this nervous about public speaking when you faced down a demon without fear. Nonetheless, I’m proud of you."