Before long, a cracking sound echoed from his leg bones. Then, under his disbelieving gaze, the deformed joint slowly aligned itself, and the withered muscles began to swell once more.
Healed? It was actually healed?!
His right leg, which had once been as twisted as a withered branch, now stretched out perfectly straight, his foot planting firmly on the ground. For the first time in five years, he could feel his toes.
He tried to wiggle them—
They moved. All five toes wiggled.
His leg was truly healed.
He would be able to do heavy labor now. He would no longer face discrimination. He could earn more money and give his child a much better future...
His destiny had completely changed at this very moment.
Only... was all of this a dream?
Perhaps this was merely a dream before death.
Perhaps he had never even stood up from that corner. Perhaps he was still crouching there, face buried in his knees, tears dripping onto the ground one by one. Perhaps all of this was just a hallucination born of his despair-induced madness.
“It is not a dream.”
The young girl saw right through him, her voice drifting over once more like a gentle breeze brushing past his heart.
“Your leg was just a minor ailment. You do not need to pay money for its treatment. You only need to tell me some secrets about this territory that you know of.”
Wint wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and took deep gulps of air, as if confirming he was still alive.
“Secrets about the territory?” His voice was still trembling.
“Yes.” The girl tilted her head, a few stray locks of hair brushing against her cheek. “Preferably anything related to the mist and the legends of the sea god.”
Was that really the only price for his healing?
Wint felt more and more as if he were dreaming, but the night breeze blowing against him told him that all of this was real.
As he spoke of every rumor and secret he knew, the girl listened in silence, a constant smile playing on her lips. Wint only had to look at her once, and those eyes, which seemed to hold the starry sky, made him lose himself in them.
A moment later, having shared all the secrets he knew, the girl bid him farewell and turned to leave.
Her silver hair draped softly, and her fragrance gradually faded. Her retreating figure was like a beautiful white petal caught in a gentle breeze, drifting across one's vision before vanishing in the blink of an eye, leaving no trace to follow.
Watching her about to disappear from his sight, Wint was startled. An inexplicable courage surged within him, suppressing his deep-seated self-deprecation.
He thought of a question—one he should have asked from the very beginning.
“By the way, I still don't know your name!”
When he asked, his voice did not tremble, because he knew there was no need to fear such a gentle girl.
The girl turned around, slightly tilting her chin. She stood on her tiptoes and waved to him, her voice carrying over on the night wind.
“Lovene.”
Lovene?
Wint murmured the name, finding it somewhat familiar.
Then, his eyes widened as her identity clicked.
The Church's Saintess...
Only now did he realize with a jolt—
He had truly met the goddess of salvation.
...
After leaving, Lovene's brow furrowed slightly.
Under the power of Holy Light healing, let alone a leg crippled for five years, even a mangled, bloody stump could regenerate flesh and bone within the golden glow.
Wint's minor ailment was no different from a common cold in her eyes.
Ultimately, her healing him had nothing to do with any compassionate sentiment.
Kindness and gentleness were merely the persona she adopted to play the role of the Church's Saintess.
She needed the secrets of the territory from his mouth.
Elena had repeatedly claimed that Marcus was dead, that his funeral had been held a month ago, and that even his tombstone had been carved. Yet when Dorothy spoke of her father, her tone was not that of someone mourning the deceased.
There was definitely a secret hidden here.
Unfortunately, the rumors Wint knew were of little use.
Lovene walked through the night, constantly recalling every word and expression of Elena's.
Elena's attempt to drive them away might not have been out of baseless hostility. She likely believed that the people sent by the Church were there to kill Marcus, and that "purification" was merely the Church's excuse.
However, children did not lie, and Dorothy's behavior had raised her suspicions.
Lovene stopped and looked up at the outline of the lord's manor looming in the night distance.
Was Marcus actually dead? If not, where was he hiding? Why had Elena spun this lie? Was it to protect him, or to cover up an even greater secret?
The truth might be gleaned from the mouths of these residents.
These people, crushed by life until they had barely a breath left, only needed to receive a tiny bit of kindness to spill every single thing hidden in their hearts.
Perhaps very soon, she would discover what exactly had happened in this territory.
...
Vera stood at the clinic's entrance with her arms crossed, her gaze behind her wire-rimmed glasses as gloomy as the night sky outside.
Normally at this hour, the benches in the clinic lobby would be packed with people, filled with groans and weeping. Now, however, the benches were completely empty, save for an old man sitting in the corner with a bandaged leg.
This patient was one she had admitted yesterday; he was unable to walk.
After a long silence, she finally could not hold back and turned to ask the nurse inside the clinic:
“What is going on? Where are all the usual patients? Did they all die of their illnesses?”
Standing by the window with a rag clutched in her hand, the nurse glanced at Vera before quickly lowering her head, her voice timid.
“Doctor Vera, they... they all went to the slums in the west.”
Vera raised an eyebrow. “What are they doing there? Is there treasure in the slums?”
“I heard that the Church's Saintess is treating illnesses there for free. She doesn't charge anything, and she doesn't even use medicine.”
“Didn't we hear about that yesterday? They didn't actually believe in prayer, did they? If that stuff actually worked, would there still be so many sick people in this world?”
Vera sneered, a mocking curve playing on her lips.
The nurse bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, and spoke up anyway.
“It's not prayer. It's... it's the Holy Light.”
“They say that the Church's Saintess really knows healing magic. With her Holy Light, there hasn't been a single disease she couldn't cure so far. She can even heal physical disabilities...”
Vera glared at the nurse, her eyes behind her wire-rimmed glasses filled with utter disbelief.
“Impossible! How could she heal disabilities? Dead flesh and blood cannot regenerate!”
She was the territory's physician. Though young, she was well-read in medical theory, and limb regeneration was completely impossible in her eyes!
This violated medical theory!
Besides, she had never heard of severed limbs regenerating!
The nurse shrank back and said, “Doctor, I wouldn't dare lie to you. Why don't you go see for yourself?”
With a cold snort, Vera took off her glasses, slipped them into her breast pocket, and turned to grab her cloak hanging on the wall.
“Let's go!”
Limb regeneration?
Hah. She would see for herself if this Church's Saintess was as amazing as the rumors claimed.
If not, and she was just getting in the way of the clinic making money...
...she would wait to see her reputation thoroughly ruined!
Rate on N.U.
