Chapter Seventeen #3
Maxi nodded reluctantly. He caressed her cheek and said, “Just think of it as getting an assistant. Don’t try to take on too many burdens all at once.”
She sighed in resignation. Considering how overprotective he usually was, she knew that this was a big concession for him. After all, he was a man who normally would not allow even a speck of dust to weigh her down. Maxi decided that she would be content with the arrangement for now.
After studying her face for a long time to make sure she was not displeased, Riftan urged her to wait for him tonight before leaving the infirmary.
—
Thus, Maxi was officially recognized as the resident healer of Calypse Castle. The knights had always been hesitant to approach her because of Riftan. Once the news broke, though, they waited in line to see her.
The infirmary was always full of knights requesting healing for their purpling bruises, cracked heels, and cuts on their hands sustained during training.
From time to time, craftsmen and servants also sought her services.
When she was not tending to the wounded, Maxi read through a pile of books to study magic.
The number of patients she treated each day gradually doubled—then tripled—and the remedies she prepared ran out as quickly as she made them. As her workload steadily increased, Maxi wanted to beg Riftan to find someone who could help her as soon as possible.
However, hiring a healer proved more difficult than they thought.
The mages who had arrived in Anatol to acquire materials for their various magical devices had long since left for Livadon, and even the few mercenary mages had already gone northwest after being hired or commissioned by other estates.
After searching for quite some time, Riftan was able to hire an old mage nearing seventy from the Earl of Loverne. The mage would come to Anatol in exchange for a military alliance with the earl.
“I have never been so cheated in my life,” Riftan complained, having been forced to agree to less favorable terms than he’d wanted in order to secure the mage’s services. “I just hope he isn’t as decrepit as I fear. I want him to have a long life in service to Anatol.”
Contrary to his hopes, however, the mage who arrived at Calypse Castle accompanied by six guards was actually nearing eighty.
Maxi was outside to welcome their guest, and she grew wide-eyed at the sight of the scrawny old mage.
He was so emaciated that she wondered how he had managed the trip through Anatolium.
His garments were worn, his back was crooked, his face was wrinkled, and his hair was as dry as corn silk. Looking as if he might collapse at any moment, the mage tottered into the great hall and shakily bowed to Riftan.
“Melric Aaron, at your service, my lord. I thank God for giving me the honor of”—he coughed, briefly cutting himself off—“serving the most honorable knight in all of Wedon.”
Riftan stared at him in disbelief before asking in an even voice, “How old are you?”
“I turned…sixty-eight this year, my lord.”
It seemed he was subtracting at least ten years from his actual age. Maxi and Riftan exchanged glances.
Although it was obvious that he had been hoodwinked by the Earl of Loverne, Riftan brusquely ordered the soldiers to show the mage to his room instead of venting his anger on the poor old man, then called for a messenger to be sent to the earl immediately.
“Do you…intend to c-complain to the earl?”
“Of course. No one can deceive me and get away with it,” he growled, then rubbed the back of his neck in irritation. “But it would be difficult to send the old man back. I do not think he will be able to endure the trip across the mountains again.”
“He may just be worn out from the journey. I’m sure that he will be able to p-perform his duties as a healer…once he has had some rest,” Maxi said, trying her best to reassure him.
Riftan regarded her skeptically. “All I wish is that he doesn’t become another patient for you to look after.”
Maxi laughed awkwardly.
—
Despite Riftan’s worries, Melric noticeably regained his vigor after two days of nutritious meals and a soft bed.
Once she confirmed that he was fully recovered, Maxi showed him the infirmary next to the training grounds.
The old man’s eyes sparkled with intelligence despite his pitifully gaunt face.
After thoroughly inspecting the recipes, as well as Ruth’s concoctions on the shelf, Melric untied two leather pouches hanging from his waist. “I see that the remedies available are rather limited, my lady. I have brought with me seeds for more than sixty types of herbs. Would you be able to provide me with a field nearby where I could grow them?”
“There is…an herb g-garden behind the great hall, but I am not sure…if there is enough space f-for all of them.”
“My herbs grow well even in rocky soil. If you could provide me with a small field, I shall grow a magnificent herb garden for you, my lady.”
The old man’s determination made Maxi smile.
“I shall…have the servants prepare one for you. Please…do not do the work yourself.”
“I may not have the strength to plow a field, my lady, but I still have enough in me to sow seeds. If you could have the soil tilled for me, I shall cultivate the herbs myself.”
Melric was eager to prove himself useful, and he quickly set about planting his garden.
Once the servants had plowed the field and followed the mage’s instructions for the fence that they put up around it, Melric got to work. Maxi asked him questions about herbs as she watched him sow the seeds in even rows, and he answered them all with ease.
Although he was not a sorcerer of great magical ability, his knowledge of medicine was far more extensive than Ruth’s.
And Maxi soon learned that Melric also knew several illusion spells to calm panicked patients, and that he was quite an expert in healing magic.
He had even developed a spell that made plants grow more quickly.
Rather than healing people with magic all the time, he preferred to use herbs, warm compresses, and his own assortment of ointments. He did not believe in relying solely on magic.
“If the wound is not serious, it is best to allow the body to use its innate recuperative abilities.”
“Why is that so? C-Could problems arise…if one is frequently healed with magic?”
“Physically, no. It is the mind that is negatively affected. Once they believe that magic will heal them on demand, warriors tend to become reckless. They also lose their tolerance for pain and gradually become more dependent on the mages for relief. It is best to let them endure a bearable amount of pain. How else will they learn the price of getting hurt?”
Melric looked at her intently, his gaze shrewd.
“My lady, you must not heal people with magic whenever they ask. Magic is the blood of the soul. Using too much of it is bound to harm the user. You should cultivate the ability to gauge the severity of a wound, and only heal those who truly require your act of kindness. The moment a healer has it in their head that it is their duty to save everyone around them, their lives will be plagued with despair.”
Maxi found Melric’s words intriguing. Ruth had never offered her such advice. In fact, Ruth never hesitated to use magic, no matter the situation.
Melric, however, took a more cautious stance. Maxi was quick to realize that Melric’s method was a more efficient way for her to use her meager mana supply. Thus, she promptly instated him as her advisor and learned all sorts of things from him every day.
He taught her the effects of various herbs, how to treat different kinds of wounds, and conducted lessons on magic.
He was not as well versed in complex runes as Ruth, but he was an expert in manipulating mana.
With a new mentor, Maxi’s abilities improved rapidly.
She succeeded in creating a sturdy barrier by harnessing the earth and managed to accelerate the speed of her mana circulation, thereby strengthening her spells.
As she markedly improved as a mage and a healer, Anatol also went through rapid changes.
The road construction was almost over, and suntanned merchants from the south came in droves. They inspected the remaining construction and promised generous support for the port expansion. It was an investment to open the fastest route to the Western Continent.
The estate grew from a rural village to a city, and it was so bustling with energy that it was almost hard to believe that a great battle against monsters raged in the northwest. If it were not for the messengers bringing news from Livadon, Maxi would have soon forgotten about the troll army.
However, every ten days or so, they received dire news of castles falling to monsters or of villages being razed to the ground. To make matters worse, they even received reports from the allied soldiers dispatched by Wedon that the monster army was much bigger than they had initially believed.
The war was going to be a long one.
—
News of the campaign was all that the knights talked about whenever they had the chance. A myriad of speculations circulated. Why had Balto and Livadon failed to notice such a massive troll army gathering in their highlands? How had the monsters learned to work so well together?
Maxi listened to their discussions with a mix of interest and anxiety. The knights had been cautious with their words around her at first, but as she spent more time in the infirmary, they slowly lowered their guard.
Recently, they even informed her that Osiriya was likely to send more reinforcements and that Wedon might also do the same.
“Livadon sent soldiers to aid us during the Dragon Campaign. If Wedon does not repay the debt now, the rest of the Seven Kingdoms will refuse to send us military aid in the future no matter the adversity we might face.”
“But…have we not sent them enough s-soldiers already?”