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Just then, a staff member approached. They delicately placed a warmed teacup before filling it with fragrant tea. Without a sound, the teapot was set down, and they discreetly withdrew.
“Do you know why Stan despises slaves?” Lorelai asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Hay simply shook his head.
Lorelai’s gaze did not rest on Hay. Though she appeared to be admiring the garden scenery, her eyes seemed fixed on some distant, unseen horizon. A faint smile graced her lips, yet it held no warmth of genuine amusement.
“As you might have guessed,” she murmured, “it’s all because of me.”
There were three common paths to becoming enslaved.
One could be a criminal reduced to slavery, the offspring of such a criminal, or, though innocent, forcibly trafficked and sold into bondage.
“It’s a tragically common tale, really,” Lorelai continued, “of selling one’s wife and children to human trafficking rings or s*ave traders to settle gambling debts.”
Such human trafficking was distressingly frequent in the Eastern Continent. Lorelai, herself, had been a victim.
“Dragged away by my own father, I was sold like a mere object,” she recounted, her voice level. “Four days later, a certain noble lady took a fancy to me and bought me. I was nineteen at the time, so that was already eight years ago. A year after that, Stan managed to find me. I fled from that noblewoman, but knowing I could never truly escape her with the s*ave mark, I had it removed. That, you see, is why my legs are broken.”
Lorelai set her teacup down; it was already half empty. Hay, observing this, took the teapot and refilled her cup with warm tea. Lorelai offered a grateful smile.
“So, your legs… were they a side effect of the mark removal?”
To attempt such a feat, one had to wager their very life.
Eradicating a master-s*ave mark was an inherently perilous undertaking. Failure meant certain death. Yet Lorelai, seated across from him, had successfully undergone the procedure.
However, a cost had been exacted.
“Yes. The trap magic embedded in my mark was designed to shatter bones—arms, legs, ribs, spine, skull, everything. Fortunately, Stan performed the removal ritual while simultaneously applying restoration magic, saving me from death. But my legs, alas, could not be salvaged.”
Lorelai’s voice, as she laid bare her past, remained remarkably devoid of emotion.
“The instant I realized my bones were fracturing, I truly believed I was dying,” she stated. “Yet, I survived. It was nothing short of a miracle.”
Even while recounting such a harrowing past, her eyes betrayed no hint of suffering.
A faint smile still played upon her lips. Hay couldn’t fathom how she could remain so composed.
‘Had Lorelai been conscious during that agonizing ordeal? Or had she mercifully lost consciousness?’
“Are your legs paralyzed, then?”
“No, not at all. I still have sensation,” she clarified. “It’s simply that the pain prevents me from walking. When I try to stand, it feels as though I’m being carved up by knives, from the soles of my feet all the way to my waist. It’s an agony like hundreds of holes being pierced by an awl. The pain itself renders me unable to walk. I simply cannot stand.”
“And now?”
“The pain, you mean?”
“Yes. You appear quite alright.”
“Ah, well, at the moment, I simply don’t feel the pain thanks to the analgesic potion Stan concocts for me. However, if I miss a dose, the agony inevitably returns.”
“Is there no cure, then?”
“It appears not,” Lorelai replied with a shrug. “I paid a fortune to consult a priest, but even they couldn’t cure nerve pain. In fact, their remedies were even less effective than Stan’s potion.”
Lorelai spoke with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
Hay’s gaze grew heavy, his thoughts sinking into a somber reflection. Looking at Lorelai, he couldn’t help but think of Renki.
Renki’s full-body burns, those horrific, fire-scorched wounds.
‘Human trafficking,’ he mused with a grimace.
‘How could a man, a father no less, don the guise of humanity and commit such an atrocity?’
“There is, however, one way to heal it,” Lorelai murmured, her voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial whisper.
Hay snapped out of his thoughts and lifted his head.
“But it’s been so incredibly difficult to acquire that I haven’t been able to undergo treatment until now. Simply finding someone with the power to help is a challenge in itself.”
“A medicinal herb, perhaps?”
“No, it’s not a medicine. But it no longer matters, as I won’t have to search for it anymore.”
Lorelai extended a hand and lightly tapped the tabletop.
“It’s the
Hay’s expression immediately hardened.
‘How did she know about that?’
“Mr. Styles, they say you have healing water, don’t they? That’s precisely what I need.”
“Stan must have informed you.”
“Yes, there was a mention of ‘healing water’ on your mercenary tag, so Stan inferred it and told me.”
“Not many spirit users, even among their own, know that it’s spring water.”
“My master was capable of wielding the Spirit King’s authority. That’s how I came to know about such powers.”
“You mentioned you were a spirit user, Lorelai. How did you come to lose your spirit magic?”
“My mana road was damaged, perhaps as a side effect of removing the s*ave mark.”
Hay’s hand, still clutching his teacup, gave an involuntary tremor.
He had suspected as much when Lorelai spoke in the past tense, yet he hadn’t truly believed her mana road was broken.
Such a thing was not easily shattered; for mages and spirit users alike, it was akin to their very life force.
“To mend my mana road, I need the
Hay composed his ruffled expression, straightening his posture. He now understood why she sought the spring water, but one significant issue remained.
“Selling it is no trouble at all,” Hay stated. “However, whether the
“It’s fine,” Lorelai insisted. “It can be mended. Isn’t the
Indeed, it was a panacea. Yet, that didn’t automatically mean it could heal a mana road.
“Mr. Styles, you seem to believe it’s beyond repair?” Lorelai observed, as if reading his very thoughts from his expression.
“It is likely impossible,” Hay stated firmly. “Healing your legs would be a worthwhile endeavor, but a mana road is an entirely different matter. The spring water can treat physical ailments, yet a mana road falls within the spiritual domain. Even a dragon would be powerless to mend it.”
“Perhaps, as you say, Mr. Styles, it cannot be treated. Stan searched tirelessly, but he found no method to repair a mana road anywhere.”
Lorelai lifted her teacup and took a slow sip of the slightly cooled jasmine tea.
Her gaze remained steadfastly fixed on Hay. All traces of amusement had vanished from Lorelai’s face, leaving an expression so serious it bordered on solemnity.
“Mr. Styles, you told Stan, didn’t you?” she pressed, her voice sharp. “That you would remove Renki’s mark, and that you would find a safe method to do so. What if the method you eventually discover proves unsafe and ends up debilitating Renki? Even if Renki loses his magic, would you tell him the same thing? ‘A mana road cannot be mended; abandon magic’?”
She set down her half-empty teacup.
“Of course, it might indeed be beyond repair.”
She then pushed a stack of gold coins across the table towards Hay.
“But shouldn’t we at least make an effort?”
Hay offered no reply. He quietly lowered his gaze, lost in contemplation. After a moment, he sipped his cooling tea, gathering his thoughts, then lifted his head.
She was only nineteen.
A young woman, small yet cunning.
And she was consumed by an intense tenacity, an unwavering obsession.
The fervent desire to reclaim what was lost, what seemed impossible, was a sentiment Hay understood well. He knew that even if he told her it was futile, she wouldn’t listen, nor would she even try to.
Hay eventually gave up trying to reason with her.
In any case, he had nothing to lose.
This presented an excellent opportunity to test whether nerve pain could truly be cured. Moreover, it was a chance to ascertain if a mana road could be mended, just as Lorelai so confidently believed.
And he could earn money besides. There was no downside.
“Very well,” Hay conceded. “But let’s be absolutely clear. There will be no refunds, regardless of whether your nerve pain or mana road is cured. Do not harbor excessive expectations of a complete recovery. And do not, under any circumstances, come complaining to me later.”
“I won’t,” Lorelai promised.
A wide smile bloomed across Lorelai’s face.
Hay, however, felt a peculiar sense of unease.
“My healing water provides an effect comparable to a mid-grade potion once a day,” Hay explained. “I intend to remain here only until the end of Water-Rising Month, after the training concludes. So, counting from today… that’s 103 days. Since I sell my healing water for 80 silver per dose, you will owe me precisely 82 gold and 40 silver.”
“Spring water that’s almost as effective as a mid-grade potion—frankly, I believe it’s superior to most potions—yet you seem to be selling it at an incredibly low price.”
Lorelai placed two bundles of fifty gold coins onto the table.
This was the exact sum Hay had paid Stan for the training fee.
“Here’s 100 gold. Keep the change.”
Hay gazed at the stack of gold coins for a moment before retrieving his own pouch and carefully counting out the change.
“There’s a reason I sell it cheaper than potions. The lower the price, the more people buy it. Besides, its effect is short-lived, so it must be used immediately upon purchase.”
Seventeen gold coins, and a bundle of silver coins with ten more.
“Above all, calculations must be meticulous. Taking more than what’s due always leads to trouble.”
Hay reached for Lorelai’s teacup.
A pale blue light emanated from his palm, seeping into Lorelai’s jasmine tea and altering the water’s properties. Even after he withdrew his hand, the tea shimmered with a faint glow.
Lorelai smiled, clearly pleased.
Hay did not return the smile.
“I explicitly told you not to expect too much,” he reiterated.
“I look forward to tomorrow as well.”
Lorelai drank the healing water.
****
Finally back in his room, Hay collapsed onto his bed. The long night of training until dawn had made him incredibly sleepy, but he fought off the drowsiness, intent on organizing his thoughts.
Seeing Lorelai, he realized he couldn’t take the mark removal procedure lightly. He hadn’t even considered such severe side effects.
‘What if the method you eventually discover proves unsafe and ends up debilitating Renki?’
He was teaching Renki magic to provide him a livelihood after the mark was removed, but if Renki’s mana road were to be destroyed, all that effort would be for naught.
Thinking he could simply take his time to find a safe method was also dangerously complacent. He needed to investigate thoroughly, whenever he had a spare moment.
In other news, if the spring water could indeed mend a mana road, this could become a means to earn a fortune. Providing the spring water for three months to ten people, at 100 gold per person, would amount to approximately 1 billion Korean Won in three months.
Of course, that was assuming there was sufficient demand.
Hay rose from the bed and opened his wardrobe door. Rummaging through the travel bag inside, he pulled out a few flame message scrolls he had bought just in case he might need them.
He intended to contact those he knew who might have information on whether the spring water could be effective in repairing a mana road. Though, in truth, there were only three such people.
The first was a fairy he had once been indebted to, long ago.
As it was his first time sending a flame message, he penned a polite greeting and burned the scroll with a candlelight. The scroll vanished without leaving a trace of ash.
The second was Lexa, a mage from Arcavia.
He recalled her hinting at knowing something about the spring water back on Mount Senugel. Perhaps she held some knowledge.
The third was Hellheim.
He held little expectation, as Hellheim had never responded to any previous flame messages. Still, being an elf and a top-tier spirit user, Hay sent one just in case.
The replies arrived in the order they were sent.
From the fairy, a lengthy greeting expressing how long it had been, followed by a response indicating they weren’t entirely sure but would inquire among their acquaintances.
A long letter arrived from Lexa.
It spoke of how long it had been, asking where he was and what he was doing, stating that she was doing well, that Adel’s funeral had concluded successfully, that Chen had remained in Arcavia, and what she was currently doing. She mentioned that she had never seen any information in any book about the spring water being able to mend a mana road, but she would look into it. She also asked about Renki’s well-being and rambled about the air quality in the Southern Continent, where she currently was.
As for the third, Hellheim, there was, as expected, no reply.
Perhaps the old geezer had finally kicked the bucket.
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