Under the Oak Tree

Chapter 177

“Aw, I guess the nice show is over?” Hebaron languished on the sidelines.

The knight standing next to him punched him in the side with an elbow, warning him that his commander was staring at them shooting daggers from his eyes. Riftan’s menacing expression was so cold that the knight’s grinning faces vanished in an instant.

“By the way, whose turn is it to go out and patrol the construction site…?”

“Haha, is it already time for that? Let’s get out of here, Sir Nirta.”

The knights rushed out of the infirmary as if pushed by an invisible force and dragged Hebaron with them. Max discreetly looked at her husband’s face, wondering if she had damaged his pride in front of his men, but Riftan simply looked at the retreating knights with a blank expression. Then he turned to her and lowered his head. Warm, soft lips glided gently over her skin, leaving feather-like kisses on the way and Max’s nose turned red in embarrassment.

“Don’t k-kiss me. I’m…still angry.” Max turned to avoid it.

“You sure know how to torment a man.” He gently wrapped her closely with one hand, wearing a wry smile. A low sigh tumbled down her hair. “But really, please, end it now. You have tormented me more than enough for three days.”

Max narrowed her eyes at his ridiculousness. She only ignored him for three days, and yet there he was behaving as if she had tortured him. Max then gave him a coy look.

“I didn’t mean to i-intimidate you.I… I was angry.”

“It was really terrifying.” Riftan, who was previously being playful, suddenly had a serious glint to his eyes. “Maxi, like I said, if you really want to be a healer here, do it…But I shall soon find another healer.”

Max couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I-is it because you don’t trust me… enough?”

“I know you have talent.” As if he wasn’t happy with the fact that she was, one of his eyes wrinkled. “Everyone’s talking about how well you’re doing and that’s how it appears to me too. But you’re only been learning magic for a few months, no novice wizard can handle the healing of hundreds of men. You need someone to assist you.”

“…We won’t know that until I t-try…”

Riftan’s face hardened at her glum retort. “Don’t be stubborn. You can’t stay here all day to heal and treat people.”

Max gave him a dissatisfied expression, but Riftan was right. If a serious accident happened like last time, she would not be able to handle it alone. She had no reason to object to having another healer present, so she nodded reluctantly and Riftan stroked her cheek soothingly.

“I’ll get another healer. Don’t try to carry all the burdens on your shoulders.”

Max sighed in resignation. The fact that Riftan conceded to her that day meant a lot, it was a far step from his usual attitude. He was the kind of person who couldn’t stand still watching a grain of dust fall on her shoulders, let alone such a heavy weight, so she decided to settle for his permission as for the moment. After making sure she was no longer upset with him, Riftan left the infirmary and made her promise not to go to sleep today without waiting for him.

Thus, Max was now the official healer of Castle Calypse. With Riftan’s permission, the knights who hesitated to receive treatment from her due to their fear of the commander now came freely. They came with bruises, cracked heels and torn palms, all from training incidents. Sometimes even servants and blacksmiths passed by to get treatment. Max piled magic books in the infirmary so she could simultaneously study magic and attend to the wounded. The number of wounded gradually increased; doubling, now tripling to the point that she ran out of medicines. Max secretly begged for a healer to come soon as her work piled over.

However, finding another healer was not as easy as she thought. All the wizards who came to Anatol to purchase magical items left a long time before for Livadon. The small number of wandering wizards, who belonged to guilds or mercenaries, were also hired or commissioned by other territories and the northwest.

After running around and using his connections, Riftan was able to obtain an elderly wizard in his seventies from Count Robern, in exchange for a forced military alliance the Count had wanted.

“This is the first time in my life that I have been ripped off like this.” Riftan was disgusted by the fact that he formed an alliance with beyond unfavorable means in return for a mere wizard. “I just hope to God this wizard isn’t that old. I just need him to live long enough to serve Anatol well.”

However, contrary to his hopes, the wizard was a slim old man, who appeared to be in his eighties, escorted by six assistants. Max, who came out to greet the guest, looked at the thin old man in surprise, and was very curious how such a frail person could survive the journey through the Anatol mountain range. The old wizard’s clothing was baggy and unkempt, his back was almost bent into a question mark, his old gray face was covered in wrinkles, and his scattered beard resembled that of corn silk. He entered the great hall with slow, wobbly steps, as if he might fall at any moment and bowed politely to them in greeting. Riftan groaned in exasperation.

“My name is Medrick Aron. To be welcomed by the most renowned knight in Whedo-” The wizard was cut off by his own sporadic coughing.

“Dear Lord…” Riftan looked at him in disbelief and asked calmly. “How old are you?”

“This humble man turned… sixty-eight this year.”

Max was surprised. The wizard didn’t look his age at all; he probably subtracted at least ten years from his actual age and it seemed that Riftan was also thinking the same thing. It was clear that Count Robern had ripped them off, but instead of venting his anger out at the poor old man, Riftan ordered the men to take him to his room and immediately called for a messenger

“Are you… going to c-confront the Count about this?”

“Of course, we should complain. There is nobody in this world who should dare deceive me and get away with it so easily.” Riftan growled like a beast, then rubbed his neck in annoyance. “But it will be difficult to send that old man back. From the looks of it, I don’t think he can handle the journey through Anatol again.”

“He may be so tired from traveling… that he appears more haggard t-than usual. After he rests and regains his energy… I’m sure he will be a fine healer.”

Riftan looked at Max who was trying to console him and herself. “I hope I didn’t add more patients to your list.”

Max laughed awkwardly at his words, not sure whether it was meant to be a joke or truth. But contrary to Riftan’s concerns, Medrick was visibly rejuvenated after a good meal and two days of sleep in a soft, luxurious bed. After confirming that he was healthy enough, Max guided him through the infirmary located at the training ground. The old man looked pitiful and frail, but his eyes glittered with decades of extensive knowledge in the healing arts.

After examining the medicines in the infirmary, Ruth’s salves and potions, he untied the leather pouches wrapped around his waist.

“The variety of medicinal herbs here is limited. I have over 60 herb seeds here for medicinal uses. Could the servants prepare a nearby field to plant these?”

“There’s an h-herb field… behind the great hall, but there may not be enough room for… more than 60 seeds…”

“My herbs will grow well even in a rough soul. If I could have a small field that I can plow and prepare, it would be great.”

Max smiled at the old man’s ambition and motivated attitude. “I’ll tell the servants… to prepare it. Please d-don’t do it yourself.”

“I may not have the strength to plow the fields myself, but I can still sow the seeds. As long as the soil is taken care of, I can cultivate the harvest myself.”

Eager to prove his worth at the castle, Medrick began his work on the new herb garden immediately. With the help of the servants, a new field was plowed, and fences were erected according to his instructions. And as the magician said, he personally planted each seed.

Max stood next to him and asked questions about each herb and he answered each of her questions patiently. From her brief interaction with the old man, she learned that while Medrick did not possess strong magical abilities, his medicinal knowledge far exceeded Ruth’s. Additionally, he developed his own psychedelic magic to calm psychiatric conditions and various other magic to accelerate the growth and health of vegetation.

Max soon learned that Medrick was also knowledgeable with the use of illusory magic to calm patients, had mastered healing magic and had developed magic formulas that made plants grow faster and healthier. However, he was not interested in treating wounds with magic. He enjoyed applying herbs, poultices, and plasters that he made himself. The reasoning was because the excessive use of healing magic could lead to dependency.

“If the wound is not serious, it is better to let the body heal itself. After all, the human body is built to rejuvenate itself.”

“Why? P-perhaps… are there any… side effects from receiving long-term treatments using healing magic?”

“There are no physical effects, but eventually, the human mind will become dependent; they will lose their rationality and self-awareness, that as long as magic exists to heal them, they will believe they are capable of anything. Their pain tolerance will wear down and they will be increasingly dependent on wizards. The best thing for men is to endure pain and learn from their wounds.”

Medrick looked at her carefully as he advised. “M’lady, you must not cast magic for everyone who prompts for it. Mana is a part of our soul. Consuming too much mana has long-term effects on the body. Train your eyes to capture the severity of injuries so you can judge who needs what kind of treatment. The moment you fall into the well of healing everyone in sight, your life as a healer will be filled with frustration and suffering.”

Medrick’s teachings were very different from Ruth’s and Max was immensely fascinated with this new way of thinking. Ruth would never give her such advice. He was an avid admirer of magic and he never hesitated to use his powers at any time. Compared to him, Max noted that Medrick was more cautious and wiser, and she immediately recognized that the man’s healing method suited his feeble magic abilities much more.

He immediately earned their respect and became her second advisor. From him, she learned the efficacy of various herbs, how to deal with different types of injuries, and tips on magic. While Medrick was not as good with complex magic as Ruth was, his knowledge of magic was still valuable. Under the direction of a new teacher, Max’s skills also improved remarkably. Now she could successfully launch barriers using the earth as her medium. She was also able to improve her mana acceleration. Now, unknowingly, she was reborn as a much more competent wizard and healer.

Anatol’s prosperity was also increasing. With the construction of the road almost completed, ranks of merchants from the south visited Anatol with their priceless cargoes. Seeing that the road construction was promising, they generously offered their endless support for the next project with the goal of expanding the port. It was a considerable investment for the fastest path to the western continent, the payoff would be great. Their territory rapidly evolved into a city from a small rural town. It was bustling so busily that it was unbelievable that a huge battle against monsters transpired in the northwest.

If it weren’t for Livadon’s messengers, Max might have completely forgotten about the countless armies of trolls. However, once every ten days, such terrible news arrived; castles were capsized by monsters and villages were devastatingly ransacked. To make matters even worse, the extremity of the situation and the magnitude of the monster army against the reinforcements dispatched from Whedon was much larger than they had expected. It would most-likely ensue to a longer battle.