“Heal! Detoxify!” John chanted, patching up another wounded civilian that The Alphabets rescued from the rubble. Some were badly burned from the fires, and others had damage to their lungs from smoke inhalation. The ones with wounds from orc weapons were already healed up as best he could; there was nothing he could do for missing eyes or amputated limbs.

He looked down at the woman he was healing, a housewife with three young children holding on to her skirts. She was better now, but her husband was not so lucky; he was the one John tried to save when they first entered the village. He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her. “You are healed, Ma’am. Listen, I know things are terrible right now, but it will work out in the end. Just stay strong for your little ones, okay?” He said, trying to give her a little hope. He wasn’t sure he said the right words; his brain was a little foggy from getting close to mana exhaustion again, but he did the best he could, considering he had been working until dawn healing people.

“Thank you, Sire. It… it will be hard, but we will pull through.” She said, placing her hand over his for a moment, then releasing it. He stood up and stretched, then made his way to his next patient. Except there wasn’t one.

“Sire, that is everyone.” A woman said beside him, her voice calm and soothing.

He turned to face her, his mind taking a few moments to place her. Looking around thirty years old, she stood around five-foot-seven, with long light brown hair, creamy white skin, and a scattering of freckles on her cheeks. She had a generous bust, modestly covered with what had been a nice cream-coloured dress, but the events of the night had tarnished it like everything else in town. “Sylvia, right? Are you sure that is everyone? Not that I have much mana left to expend at this point…” He was remembering her now; she was the baroness in charge of this area of Lordaeron and had been running the fire brigade all night. 

“Yes, Sire.” She said, smiling at him. It was a pleasant smile that reached her soft, brown eyes. “Here, have a drink of wine. I have opened my home to you and your men to rest. The fires are all but out now, so you and your people should be safe to sleep. There is a bath being drawn for you as we speak.”

He wanted to argue that now wasn’t the time to worry about a bath, but after looking around, the threat appeared to be over. Getting clean, a bite of food, then sleep seemed like the right course of action. “Very well, lead on. Bee, Frank, with me. Iron, was it? Go find Eh, and let him know where we will be.” John said, turning to the three guards. Eh made sure he had the guards with him all night after they were sure no more orcs were roaming around the village.

“Yes, Milord.” They said, then they were off. John took a few sips of the mug of wine she had poured him; it actually had quite a refreshing taste compared to other wines he had tried before. He had drunk the whole mug by the time they walked to the far side of the village; this area was nearly untouched by the orcs’ rampage. 

Sylvia led them to a large home on the hill, a nice three-story mansion in better condition than the homes around it but not ostentatious enough to say that the baroness was fleecing her populace to live beyond her station. Compared to the fragmented memories John was given, it was a downright hovel compared to what he was used to.

Once inside, she led him to a large room with a bath attached. The guards inspected it, then searched the rest of the house, just to make sure no orcs were hiding anywhere. She left John alone, saying she would be back up in a bit with a bite of food for him. John just nodded, then started to strip his armour… when he realized he couldn’t do it by himself. 

“Lady Sylvia, I hate to be a bother, but can you give me a hand with these clasps? I am afraid I cannot do them up myself.” He asked her retreating form.

“Of course. Would you rather have me fetch one of your men instead? I would hate to make you uncomfortable by having an old woman touch you.” She asked, hesitating to touch him.

He laughed. “Old woman? Where? Listen, I have been running, fighting, or healing since Noon yesterday. Why would I be uncomfortable with having a beautiful woman helping me undress?” He said, then winked at her. “If you are uncomfortable, I assure you, there are clothes on under these plates. I just need a little help to get out of them.”

She chuckled, then started working on his buckles. “Oh, you’re a charmer, aren’t you, Prince John? One wonders how you are still single after all this time. We were all sorry to hear that things didn’t work out between you and Lady Proudmoore.”

“That was a long time ago, and honestly, I forget why it didn’t work out,” John said, then pivoted the conversation to her before she asked for details he didn’t have. “What about yourself? You’re a baroness, attractive and seem to have a good head on your shoulders. Why are you single?”

“Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t know. I am a widow, my husband passed ten years ago in a hunting accident while he was visiting friends from his time fighting back in the First War. They were all getting older, but still acted like young men, and the boar got the better of him. I was only nineteen when he died, but it took a couple of years before I was ready to find a new husband. By that time, I was already considered an old spinster and used goods by the families that were even willing to marry into a house out in the countryside, so after that, I gave up.” She said, sounding a little sad.

John understood. When he grew up, those views were still predominant in Western culture, though they rapidly changed over the coming decades. “That is a shame, you seem like you have a lot to give, and you genuinely seem to care for your people. I think that speaks volumes for your character over something as simple as your age.” 

“Thank you, Sire. That means a lot to me.” She said, a small smile forming on her face. John didn’t see it, though, his pauldrons blocking his view of her.

It took a few minutes, but she managed to get his straps loose enough for him to shed the larger pieces of his armour. As he thought, his leathers were underneath it all, the clothes drenched in sweat from his all-day exertions. Sylvia bid him a good evening, then left the room. John stripped the rest of the way down when she departed, then draped his leathers over a chair near an open window to dry.

Making his way into the bath, he was pleasantly surprised by the size of the tub, more than large enough for his tall frame to stretch out in. He used a nearby bucket to wipe himself down, then submerged himself in the steaming hot water. He could feel his pain slowly leaving his body, and if he hadn’t been for that last dose of Substance X, he would have fallen asleep fairly quickly. Even as he was, it probably wouldn’t be long before he nodded off.  

He started to go over the events of the day in his head, but as tired as he was, only a few things popped out to him. 

One, he didn’t really have enough information to act as the prince of this country. If he stuck around, he would need to find someone to confide in about some missing memories.

 I could blame it on that blow to the head last night.

Two, that sword was wild. While he welded it, the magic filled his body to the point he felt like he was about to explode, wanting to strike at whatever he considered his foe. It acted way more dynamically than any other time he had used it, though he had only really used it on inanimate objects before, and zombies. 

Maybe because the wolf was alive? Not sure why that would matter, but during that fight, I am positive it would have cut almost anything, from orc necks to the armour on the Phoenix Hawk. Note Three – Ask Alec more about the sword. 

Three, his magic. Why did it seem less effective? He was sure he had four or five darkness spells running in IF. And it had never actually failed before. Or did it? When he first saw the mounted orc, he cast the spell on him, but it landed on the horse.  He thought he missed, but maybe he didn’t. He would go and try to find that orc’s body tomorrow, maybe it had something on it like a magical item that reflects magic. That could be useful if he ever started fighting other magic users.

I still have more mana right now than I have had in any other world I have visited. This body has a ton of it to begin with, and I doubled it with my mana boost. That was a lot of healing I did today, not to mention the mana potions the locals kept feeding me with. That felt like about two weeks’ worth of healing I normally performed in Meritoni in a single night. If this is a common occurrence in this world, I should be able to save more people and push my healing skills to higher levels.

I need to get back to IF or TGC to get my spell tomes. I think the spells were called… Area Heal, Attack Barrier, Magic Barrier, Area Barrier, Aura Coat, Area Middle Heal, High Heal, Purification, Area High Heal, Recover, and Dispel. I would have to look at the tomes themselves to see what level of Holy magic I need to be at, or whatever DEN is calling in when I am not in TGC. I could look to learn the healing magic here, but it seems so expensive to use. That could just be a problem for Paladin magic, though… I need more information…Sigh

John closed his eyes, leaned back further and sank deeper into the tub. He wasn’t going to figure anything out right now; his brain was starting to go a little mushy. As he drifted off, his eyes snapped open!

“What if there is resurrection magic here?!?” He said, face-palming. There was obviously healing magic in this world; there was a good chance there was resurrection magic. If he found it here, he wouldn’t need to waste any tokens on paying for answers!

“What was that, Sire?” A muffled voice said through the door, bringing John out of his contemplations.

“Nothing. Who is it?” He asked.

“Sylvia, Sire. I have a plate of food for you. May I enter?” She asked.

Wait, is she… sigh.

“That is fine.” He said, wondering if his guess was right.

Sylvia walked in, wearing a blue bathrobe that was open in the front, with a thin black negligee underneath. She was carrying a plate of sliced fruit, bread, and cheeses. She smiled at him as she approached the side of the tub, a mischievous look on her face. “I hope the bath is to your liking, Sire.”

“It is quite pleasant. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He said, gesturing at her.

“Just wanting to reward my people’s saviour. Now just sit back, relax, and let this old lady take care of you.” Sylvia said, setting the plate aside and dropping her robe.

John just shook his head. 

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep