The Forsaken Hero

At Captain Bethiv’s command, the soldier saluted smartly. "Sir!" he exclaimed, hurrying off. While the captain redirected his attention to me, several other men dispersed, each heading in different directions, calling for Rebecca.

"It’ll be alright," Bethiv said, patting my cheek gently. "Rebecca will get here in a second. She’s the best healer we’ve got."

Despite his attempt to reassure me, the strain on the captain’s face and the fear in his eyes was evident. I coughed again, tasting blood, questioning the severity of my wounds. I’d lost track of time purifying the wolf, but it couldn’t have been less than half an hour. I felt fine then, so shouldn’t I only be better now?

But strangely, as we waited for the healer, my strength ebbed away. My soul trembled, straining against the threads, trying to break apart until black spots clouded my vision. Desperately, I summoned what little mana I could and cast a few Life Dews, yet the Life Magic only provided a brief reprieve from the agony.

The world seemed to flicker in and out, each scene introducing a new face or location. There was the Captain, then a worried girl, followed by a white tent. Finally, everything stilled in familiar darkness, and I slipped into unconsciousness.

I awoke rather suddenly, completely disoriented. Had I even slept at all?

The young woman from before, pretty but too plain to be beautiful, hovered over me with an anxious expression. I tilted my head, eyes searching, and I found myself in a white tent. The instant I opened my eyes, her face lit up with excitement.

"You’re awake!" she exclaimed. "I’m actually the best!"

"The hero’s awake?"

"Finally!"

"Someone fetch the captain!"