Dian Cecht Treatment Room, Orario.
Charles lay on the couch, staring despairingly at the ceiling.
Before him stood an old man with white hair and beard, stroking his long whiskers. A fleshy lump between his eyebrows twitched as his two mustaches quivered up and down.
This was Dian Cecht, the God of Medicine.
He paced beside the bed, examining Charles's injuries with a critical eye.
"Ah, with wounds like these, it's strange he's still alive. Fascinating!" He smiled mercilessly, then gently prodded Charles's arm. "Well, the meat's burnt beyond use. To prevent infection, it's best to amputate. If you're willing to donate your severed limb, I'll give you a discount on the prosthetic — I'll buy it for exactly 8,935w vali."
Charles rolled his eyes. "With exact decimals? Might as well not bother with a discount."
Dian Cecht hummed thoughtfully. "The chest wound's no better — that curse is nasty. Easy fix, though. Just chop it off for 500,000. The penetrating wounds? Tsk tsk, pricey — 1 million per hole. Let me count how many there are…"
Did he want to pull out a calculator too?
He trailed off, eyeing Charles's torn pants. "And with those burns, you can't keep your trousers. Why not…"
"Cut—no, no, that's forbidden!" Charles interrupted, blocking the old man's hand.
"You're a terrible old man! What do you want to do to my baby?" Charles protested.
Dian Cecht's expression turned serious. "This is about your life. If we don't cut clean, dead cells breed bacteria. Then amputation won't be enough! But you wouldn't understand—just pay up!"
"Get lost, quack! Remove the incurable curse and clean out the necrotic muscle. The rest? Not necessary!"
This old man was evil enough to ruin Charles's perfect plan of "licking his sister-in-law"!
"Hmph, you don't know how to appreciate a good deed." Dian Cecht snorted, took out a scalpel, and slashed Charles's arm — peeling off a large chunk of blackened flesh instantly.
"Uhhhhhhh! Old man! Anesthesia! Anesthesia!"
"Get lost! Anesthetics cost money! Shut up and bite down!"
"Wuwuwuwu—"
Just wait, you're going to die!
…
Ghostly howls echoed in the treatment room.
Outside, a 12-year-old girl with silver hair, dressed in a blue-and-white nurse uniform, frowned sharply. Her delicate doll-like face was tense as she scolded the Astraea family members who'd brought Charles.
"You moved the patient so roughly, I half expected a crime scene."
A rare sternness darkened her features. "With injuries like his, the usual recommendation is the cemetery."
"Don't say that, Airmid-chan, that's too harsh. She could have walked here herself." Alise scratched her head.
"That's exactly the problem!" Young Airmid put hands on hips, trying to look serious despite her doll-like calm. "At least use a stretcher and do emergency treatment to avoid secondary injuries."
Ryuu lowered his head, ashamed, then glanced at Lyra leaning against the door with arms folded.
"Lyra… did you hit him that hard?"
Lyra's face dropped. "How should I know? At least those penetrating wounds and burns aren't from me!"
Kaguya sat in the living room, sipping tea leisurely. "Most likely the Hyena did it. Rumor says he has a habit of eating corpses."
"Well… lucky he's not dead yet."
Lyra shrugged, surprised by Kaguya's insight.
"I still think something's off," Lyra mused, stroking her chin. "For example, the bag he refused to show us."
Kaguya interrupted. "Iska already investigated. The victims were ordinary adventurers from the Soma clan. Their bodies were found in the Pantry. The fatal injury was a burn…"
"Although the injuries make it hard to be certain, the benefactor behind that kid is indeed from the Soma clan."
Alise clapped her fists. "Got it, got it. That makes sense!"
Do you get it now?
Lyra glanced at Alise, dressed as a detective, smoking a pipe.
"The survivors, with unyielding will, crossed death's abyss, endured hardship, and avenged their fallen! This is the song of death! The birth of a hero's tale!
"And we, the ones who saved the boy! Especially the flawless, beautiful girl herself! The righteous family will be his guiding light forward! The one and only heroine! Congratulations, congratulations!"
Alise puffed out her chest, proud.
Doesn't seem to have anything to do with you…
Kaguya pouted. "Where did this fantasy come from? Lyra stabbed that guy over a dozen times! She's called the heroine? More like the enemy! Besides, that guy's not qualified to be a hero."
Lyra nodded. "Yeah, my thief's intuition says he's dangerous. He reeks of his hometown."
Her eyes darkened as memories of Bergen, the city of sinners, flashed before her.
If not for Ryuulu, would I—born there—still bear the banner of justice? Probably stuck in that quagmire.
Yes, that boy's look was what I used to have.
If I had to describe it…
He's got the first half—no choice before. I've got the second half—wanting to be good now.
Lyra opened her mouth to say more.
Ryuu interrupted, eyes righteous, as the others fussed over Charles.
"That's too much. No matter what, it's a fact: Lyra nearly killed him. We should apologize."
Ryuu's thoughts were naive. Imagine the despair of a young man who just surpassed his limits, only to be scorched by the light of justice he believed was his last hope.
At least Ryuu no longer believed in justice.
A few smiled at the blushing mysophobic girl refuting them.
"Ah, Lyon, you really can't tolerate even a speck on your body."
"That's natural—it only hurts you in the end."
"Orario's people aren't innocent. Who knows? That boy might be the one who killed his comrades and embezzled their property! That package he hid could be evidence."
Kaguya and Lyra teased Ryu like always. The seniors wanted the youngest to grow up, teaching her how to handle people.
But this was unbearable to Ryuu, obsessed with cleanliness even among elves.
Seeing Ryuu about to explode, Alise hugged her from behind.
"Okay, Lyon. Kaguya and Lyra didn't mean it. As an apology, let's pay for the boy's medical bills—together. Deal?"
"Um, Alise!"
Ryu sniffled, opened Alise's eyes, and nodded.
At that moment…
A voice came from behind the girls:
"Um, um… can I get a discount on the treatment costs?"