Chapter 74: The Price of Healing Water

Once, a mercenary he had worked with posed a pointed question.

‘It seems like you wouldn’t have to worry about making a living if you just sold healing water, so why are you a mercenary?’

It wasn’t as if Hay hadn’t considered that very thought. In fact, he had even tried to sustain himself solely by selling healing water. However, not only had he failed spectacularly, but a particularly harsh experience had left him with no desire to ever attempt it again.

That harrowing summer, he had been only fifteen. It was about a year after he had left his hometown with merely a handful of coins.

He was working as a mere errand boy for a solo mercenary he had met in his hometown. Though he had initially hoped to learn the mercenary trade from him, the man taught him absolutely nothing of value.

It was no different from his days as a servant at an inn; in fact, it seemed even worse. The solo mercenary, realizing Hay possessed healing abilities, ruthlessly exploited his gift.

He sold the healing water to their fellow mercenaries, pocketing all the earnings. While Hay understood then that healing water was a valuable commodity, not a single coin from the sale of his own ability ever reached him.

Realizing he had nothing to learn from this mercenary and would only continue to be exploited, Hay began to ponder how he might escape. The mercenary, who was enjoying a lucrative income from Hay’s exploited abilities, was unlikely to simply let him go.

Fortunately, Hay’s dilemma was resolved sooner than he expected. During a mission, they encountered a band of brigands. One of the bandits’ axes struck the mercenary’s head, killing him instantly.

Upon arriving in the next town, Hay contemplated his future before deciding to try his hand at selling healing water. Around that town, there was a region frequently plagued by monster appearances.

This made it an ideal location for his venture, as many mercenaries passed through, often bearing wounds both minor and severe. Hay set up a makeshift stall in the alley beside the mercenary guild.

Using money he had discreetly taken from the deceased mercenary, he bought empty bottles, filled them with water, and displayed them. He then advertised his wares to injured mercenaries, claiming to sell healing water created with spirit magic.

Initially, his business did not flourish. Few people knew that a spirit user could possess healing abilities, and unlike proven healing potions, no one was eager to purchase his unverified healing water.

From a buyer’s perspective, Hay’s healing water suffered from numerous drawbacks. Firstly, it was an unproven potion. Secondly, its effects were fleeting, requiring immediate consumption upon purchase, as it could not be stored for long.

Thirdly, no matter how much one drank, its healing properties could only be utilized once per person.

After much deliberation, Hay decided to lower the price, hoping to attract customers. He set the cost of one bottle of healing water at 30 silver. To his surprise, a mercenary soon showed interest in his wares.

‘You’re saying this offers the same efficacy as a low-grade potion?’

The mercenary had unkempt brown hair and a visible injury on his arm. Hay didn’t truly expect him to buy it.

Several times before, mercenaries had approached out of curiosity, asked a few questions, and then simply walked away.

‘Yes, it’s a potion made with spirit magic. I call it healing water.’

‘I’ve never heard of a spirit user making potions before.’

Hay considered explaining about Elkynon’s spring water but ultimately decided against it. He figured the man wasn’t going to buy it anyway.

‘Give it to me for free. If it works well, I’ll spread the word around. Who knows? I might bring you a lot of customers.’

Hay didn’t trust the man’s words, but after four days with no sales, he figured he had nothing to lose and accepted the offer. The man, too, seemed to have low expectations at first. However, after he had finished the entire bottle, his expression completely changed.

‘Could I have another bottle?’

‘My healing water only works once a day. If you need more, come back tomorrow—and be prepared to pay then.’

‘That’s a shame. Alright, I’ll spread the word among my friends. A lot of folks get injured coming here, and the healers are always swamped.’

Hay hadn’t truly believed the man would keep his promise. He closed his stall for the day after giving away that one free bottle. Yet, the very next day, the man returned, accompanied by several other mercenaries.

‘See? I told you I’d spread the word!’

The unkempt man declared triumphantly. The mercenaries he had brought with him asked a few questions about the healing water.

Some turned away, disappointed by its inability to be stored. Others, however, perhaps desperate to treat their infected wounds, purchased Hay’s healing water and drank it on the spot.

From that moment, Hay’s healing water began to gain renown among mercenaries, and his customer base steadily grew. However, it was precisely then that problems began to emerge.

As his clientele expanded, so too did the number of people who resented Hay’s success. One particular merchant, who also sold healing potions to mercenaries, began to relentlessly harass Hay.

Initially, the harassment was childish—like ‘accidentally’ breaking his bottles of water or spreading malicious rumors. But as time wore on, the torment grew increasingly severe.

On the tenth day of his business, the merchant finally reported him to the city guards. The accusation was that Hay had been operating without a license and failing to pay taxes.

To avoid imprisonment, he was forced to hand over more than half of his earnings to cover the fines and taxes.

Concluding that he could no longer conduct business there, Hay decided to leave the next day with his remaining money. However, people suddenly appeared, dragged him out of the inn, and forced him to his knees.

‘You! What exactly did you sell us? Are you even sure what you sold was a potion?’

‘I drank your healing water, and now my illness is worse!’

‘Look at my wound! It festered even more after I used your concoction! They say I might need an amputation! How will you take responsibility for this?’

‘You damn fraud! Give me back my money right now, or I’ll break both your legs!’

Naturally, it was all a malicious setup. They hadn’t even purchased Hay’s healing water to begin with.

Hay pleaded his innocence, but the crowd refused to listen. No one around offered him any help.

As they cursed and struck him, he had no choice but to defend himself. All he did was cry out for them to stop and deploy his shield.

At that, they deliberately slammed into his shield, then screamed that he had tried to kill them. In the moment of his shock, when he faltered, the crowd knocked Hay to the ground and brutally beat him.

He was kicked and stomped, and when he finally regained consciousness, he found himself abandoned on a desolate plain outside the city, with only a meager pack beside him.

Not a single coin remained in his pocket. Hay couldn’t comprehend why he had suffered such an ordeal.

Even if his unlicensed business was frowned upon, he wondered if it truly warranted such extreme retaliation. He felt both wronged and infuriated.

After enduring such an experience, any thoughts of selling healing water vanished completely. There was no guarantee that the same tragic events wouldn’t repeat themselves.

‘Wait!’

Lorelai raised a hand. She was submerged in the fishbowl, only her head visible, her hand grasping Nix’s horn, who was also inside.

Hay, who had been calmly explaining ‘why he didn’t sell healing water’ in a monotonous voice, now looked up.

‘I roughly understand why you stopped selling. But did you get revenge on the people who tormented you, Mr. Styles? You didn’t just let it go, did you?’

At Lorelai’s question, Hay’s lips parted, then he simply shrugged.

‘That’s ridiculous! You didn’t actually leave those bastards alone, did you? Even as a low-grade spirit user, you must have had the ability to get revenge back then, Mr. Styles. Why did you just let it be?’

‘Revenge is for those with the courage and resolve to face the consequences. I was young then, and simply lacked that audacity.’

‘If it were me, I would’ve chased them down and burned everything to the ground!’

Lorelai, her face etched with indignation, slapped the surface of the water. Splash, went the spring water, leaping upwards.

‘So? What happened next?’

‘Nothing much after that. I decided against seriously pursuing the healing water business, became a mercenary, and here I am now. I only sell healing water to the injured when I’m working. Let’s stop here; our time is up.’

‘Already?’

Lorelai’s eyes widened in surprise. Hay nodded, then pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. He had purchased it just a few days prior from the only clock shop in the area.

Exactly thirty minutes had passed since the water in Lorelai’s fishbowl had been transformed into spring water. After reaching the intermediate rank, the spring water’s duration had become precisely thirty-two minutes, neither thirty nor thirty-five.

‘One minute left.’

‘My goodness, time flies so quickly.’

Lorelai murmured. Nix circled the fishbowl. Hay rose from his seat, his gaze sweeping over Lorelai’s body.

The flames still clung to her, unextinguished, though slightly diminished. Whether due to the cold magic maintained by the three mages or the spring water, it seemed to be having some effect.

‘Nix.’

At Hay’s call, Nix emerged from the fishbowl. Having shrunk his body to the size of Kelpie in his snake form, Nix coiled around Hay’s neck.

A chill ran through Hay, causing him to shiver, but it was momentary.

‘It’s a shame. I wanted to talk more.’

‘Then I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Yes. Goodbye. Goodbye, Nix!’

[“Good night, Lorelai Demonic.”]

Nix waved his short arm. Lorelai waved back, smiling brightly. Just then, the spring water’s effect faded, and the water in the fishbowl lost its glow.

Hay gave a casual nod of farewell and exited the cavern. As he carefully ascended the dark stairs, he heard Lorelai’s voice drifting from the cavern below.

Bored, she was striking up a conversation with the three mages.

[“Hay Styles, why did you lie?”]

“What lie?”

[“You did get revenge on them back then.”]

“Ah, I didn’t want the story to drag on, and we were short on time.”

Nix was right; Hay had indeed taken his revenge.

He hadn’t been confident about facing the consequences then, nor had he possessed particular courage. He had simply wanted to return what he had received.

It was called revenge, but it wasn’t a grand, bloody affair. Using spirit magic, he secretly re-entered the city and sought out each person one by one.

Without revealing himself, he broke one man’s ankle, caused another to fall backward and injure his head. He pushed one into a well and framed another for theft. That was how he exacted his rather petty revenge.

All except for one.

[“That rat-faced merchant should have been punished more. It shouldn’t have ended so easily.”]

Nix seethed, recalling the incident. Hay scratched his head, looking abashed.

“I don’t think I let him off easy?”

The ‘rat-faced merchant’ Nix was cursing was the one who had spearheaded the plot against Hay. He was the one who had reported Hay to the guards, incited the crowd to assault him, and stolen his money.

“Taking his money and collapsing his shop was enough, wasn’t it?”

Hay had used Thea’s power to shake the shop’s foundation, causing the building to utterly collapse. Unfortunately, that madman had dashed into the store to collect his belongings just before it crumbled, only to be buried beneath the debris.

Honestly, Hay had thought it would be fine if he died.

He remembered feeling a slight pang of disappointment when the man emerged alive.