38 Chapter 3 (1/2)

FeralHeart YesorNo 59350K 2022-07-22

Bars of sunlight streamed in through the window, lighting the motes of dust that floated in the air. They illuminated father's face as he gazed out of the window, leaning against the headboard of the hospital bed.

As I walked towards him with a bowl of potion held in my hands, I couldn't help but study the stern visage that had shaped my childhood. Today, under the glow of the sunlight, the hard lines of his face seemed to become soft, serene.

When I placed the bowl on the table by his bedside, he turned to me and smiled. My heart clenched. The very smile I had tried my hardest to elicit from him during our training sessions together, today filled me with dread.

”What are you smiling for, you oaf!? Is it my corpse you see walking? It is but an arm. I'll have you whole in a jiffy,” scolded Mother as she walked up with another container filled with medical instruments and assorted vials filled with preserved biological materials and mana-rich minerals.

”You think that just because you lost an arm, everything's over? I'll trouble you not to lump me in with those ordinary healers who can only regenerate lost limbs, yet leave them at the stage of an ordinary man's. All those years of effort strengthening it and infusing it with mana gone in an instant.”

She set the box down with a thump, making me wince for the fragile vials inside.

”There's a reason I'm the Chief healer. Your muscle-memory might be gone for good but given enough resources, I can at least restore it to its previous intensity. A year of intense exercise and you'll be back up to speed.” She reached out and pinched his cheeks, distorting his face into weird expressions. ”So, don't give me that gormless smile. It doesn't suit you.”

Father grabbed her hands, single-handedly and brought it to his lips, causing Mother to shoot me a flustered look and blush, swiftly withdrawing her hands back to her lap.

He chuckled softly, ”Worry not, dear. I'm made of sterner stuff.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, father's injury was a serious blow for an ordinary warrior, making them lose the entirety of the effort they had poured in to the lost limb during their training. But with my mother's variant of the Gift of light that incorporated the alchemical properties of water mages, she could siphon off the mana inherent in mana rich substances and imbue them in the new arm she generated for him.

In my anxiety for him, it had slipped my mind. Though, the amount of resources required would be quite astronomical, but we had some savings and with the help of the clan, we would be able to barely scrape by with a loan.

If it was for father, going a few months without resources was nothing. I smiled as I went about setting up the medical apparatus.

After her confrontation with the Duchess, even though her words had been for her own good, Mother had held a grudge, resigning from the post of the leader of the Healing committee. Thus, it came to be that I was conscripted to work as her assistant for father's surgery as she didn't want to owe the Duchess any favours by availing of any of the medical staff.

We were currently in the most secure ward of the capital's hospital; thus, we were quite startled when the door to the ward was pushed open.

Mother's expression turned frosty when she saw the Duchess leaning against the doorframe. ”What are you doing here, interrupting my Husband's treatment?”

Covering her mouth with a tail, she narrowed her slanting eyes and chuckled, ”Ara-ara. Don't be like that, sister.” Walking over with a sinuous gait, she wrapped her arms and four of her tails around my mother from behind, despite her struggles. Placing her chin on her head, she addressed father, ”I'm not the only one who came.”

Following the direction one of her free tails was pointing at, I turned my gaze to the open door.

A gigantic shadow appeared on the wall of the corridor beyond it, growing as its owner approached.

A large hairy hand clasped the doorframe and a seven-foot-tall giant squeezed into the room, crouching to avoid hitting his head.

My first impression of the man was 'huge', the second was 'hairy'. He had a shaggy beard and hair that looked like it had fought a war with a comb and won. The backs of his hands and arms were covered with hair while a thick patch of it on his barrel-chest peeked out of his shirt which was casually unbuttoned to the third button.

My third impression of him was 'loud'. A booming laugh rang out as the hirsute man entered the room, his presence making the room seem small.

”Ha-ha. Big bro Veer. You have one such day. Its always been us lying on the stretcher while you've overlooked us. How's it feel to be on the other side for once.”

His eyes brightened when he laid his eyes on me, closing the gap between us in a single stride, he reached out for me. My instinctive dodge was an exercise in futility as his arm seemed to cut off all routes of escape, speaking of his extreme attainments in the martial arts.

He crushed me to his side with an arm around my neck and ruffled my hair with his other hand. ”Ha-ha. Is this your son? A strapping young lad. Didn't see him during the banquet or I'd introduce him to my good-for-nothing son. He's just come back from the military and would love to have a junior to brainwash. Ha-ha.”

I gave up my futile struggles and resigned myself to the fate of being manhandled by this man whom I recognized as the Marquis of the North, Theodore Ursa.

”Ya know? Me and your pa go way back. He used to be my Commander when we both served in the army and I his Lieutenant.”

Waving his free hand animatedly, he looked to the distance as he tightened his grip on me, making me look the same way.

”There we were, facing a horde of the Northern savages and as all young fellows are, I was as green as they come. They were charging at us, a tide of flesh and steel and I was too stupid to know the fear I felt for what it truly was. Ran out of the lines and charged them, I did. Stupidest thing I've ever done or will ever do.

”In war, an individual is merely a cog in the machine. Throw a cog at the opposite machine, not only will it bounce off without even scratching the opposition, it'll leave a gaping hole in your own. When I finally came off my bloodlust and fear fuelled high, I was deep in the enemy lines.”

I couldn't help but be drawn into his tale, his enthusiastic arm waving, painting a picture of blood, steel and despair in my mind.

”They were all around me and my pride, my defence and strength, but a drop against their sea. I was prepared to die there, that day. Vowed I'd take as many of the bastards with me as I could. The only regret I had was that I hadn't done my Marge's belly in a big way before coming. Knowing her, she'd come charging right after me without the restraint of a child to keep her back in the camp.”

He paused to wet his lips with his tongue. He was a fine storyteller and even Mother and the Duchess listened, enthralled.

”Then your Pa came through for me. He was one of the very few Tier 3 wind mages who could fly. I don't know what his balls are made of, but they're harder than steel. Maintaining the void in the middle of a battlefield is just about impossible but he made it seem easy as he rained blades of wind all around me, covering my retreat.

”I owe your pa a life, boy. I've come to pay a bit of that debt back.”

He turned to the door, ”Oi Donald! Marcel! How long are you chaps going to lurk outside?”

I turned to the entrance to see two men enter. No one else in the room seemed surprised to see them so I concluded that they had already detected them.

”Pipe down, Teddy, we can hear fine,” said the blue haired man while adjusting his square-rimmed glasses as he walked in with a hand in his pocket.

”We didn't want to interrupt y-your touching s-story, so we waited o-outside,” stammered the other. Other than his arms, which were longer than normal, and a long tail which he had wrapped around his waist like a belt, he looked quite similar to a Hominum, albeit with the area between his nose and upper lip raised slightly.