Chương 18: Memory

Fuck. He should have followed Lira and not gotten himself involved in this. What a bother. He frowned.

"I need to check them individually to know," Adolin said. Eldritch nodded.

"Go ahead." Two small glass bottles appeared in his hand, red liquid swirling inside. Adolin went to the closest injured and crouched next to him. The man was in his late twenties. His body was mauled and cut. Every wound was already covered in bandages. The villagers did a good job keeping him alive. He glanced at his eyes. The spark was fading. The man had less than four hours left. Adolin clicked his tongue. He was beyond saving with a potion. The potion would be wasted, but… he still had his life ahead of him.

Adolin struggled. His family stood quiet, looking at him with hope in their eyes. He cursed.

"So?" Eldritch asked. Adolin extended his hand.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Let's get this over with." Eldritch nodded and handed him a potion. The family leaned closer.

"Thank you," one of them said. Adolin slid his hand under the man, touching his back, and cast Growth. A spell that flooded lifeforce into plants or creatures. He glanced toward Eldritch, and he moved, stepping beside him and lifting the man just enough so they wouldn't spill the potion. Adolin pulled the cork and poured the potion into his mouth, making sure it all went down. The woman next to them, who Adolin thought was his wife, put her hands over her face. Her expression was grim, but hopeful.

The potion worked fast, the additional lifeforce helping it along. His pale face regained some color. The wounds not covered by bandages healed in moments. What followed was a rough cough. His body shook. Eldritch held him down so he wouldn't worsen his injuries. A few seconds later, he calmed down and opened his eyes. Eldritch let him go and stepped back. Adolin did the same. His wife rushed to him, hugging him, crying even more than before. She kept repeating, "Thank you," over and over.

Adolin felt awkward and moved to the next wounded.

"Will he be okay?" The woman asked. Eldritch kept reassuring her. He kept his gaze down. Too many people were looking at him. The whole square. It felt awful. He kept cursing in his mind as he checked the wounded next to him. It was a woman. She had quite a few injuries, but she would survive. The worst one was a bite on her back. Infection could spread from it. Toxin Removal would be enough to get rid of any chance of infection. It would also give her lifeforce and rejuvenate her.

She would be fine after a week or two of rest. The people around him started asking questions. He just nodded when they asked if she would survive. He cast Toxin Removal the same way he did with the man, hoping no one would notice. Then moved to the next wounded. He skipped the one with the worst injuries. The good thing for him was that almost all of the worst injuries were already dead. He didn't need to take any unnecessary risks.

Eldritch noticed he didn't want to talk and came with him, reassuring the families while Adolin checked the injured. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Most of the wounded in the square needed just Toxin Removal, so the bites wouldn't become their deaths. Four of them needed additional lifeforce to recover, and he supplied it to all of them. The people started getting nervous, trying to pressure him into using the last potion on their loved ones.

But he ignored them and moved from injured to injured. It took him an hour to get through all of them. His mana was almost gone. He skipped a few who could survive without his help, so he would have enough for the man with the worst injuries. The same one he skipped at the beginning.

"You sure they will be fine?" Eldritch kept asking, doubt creeping into his voice. But just like he ignored everyone else, he ignored him too. He felt overwhelmed, wanted to disappear from the square. But there was one more. The last one. The one he had to use the potion on. A small boy was sitting next to him, but as he got closer, someone pulled the boy away. He crouched next to the man and inspected his eyes. The spark was dimmer. A lot dimmer than when he first saw him. It shouldn't be this bad.

A small hope flickered in the eyes of the people around him. He checked his wounds. Four bite marks. Multiple cuts. And… poison. He needed to use Analyze to be sure, but he didn't have enough mana. Damn it. He went over his spells, but not even one would be enough to save him. He didn't have enough mana. If he had noticed the poison earlier, he could have used Toxin Removal and Growth. With the potion, he would have been healed. He kept cursing in his mind. There was no time to wait for his mana to recover.

No mana potions either. The man would die, and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt sick in his stomach. The only thing he could do for the man was ease his pain. He cast Burden Transfer. Pain hit him immediately. His whole body screamed. It felt like flesh was being torn from the spots where the man had been bitten. His breath caught. A cold sweat broke out. His face went pale. He swayed, barely keeping himself steady. Next to him, the man's breathing slowed. The tension left his face.

He let out a weak breath. Adolin clenched his teeth and endured. It took him a few seconds to steady himself. He clicked his tongue and stood up. It would have been a lot worse if he had enough mana for the full spell, he only managed to take half of the pain. It was all he could do. He gritted his teeth and endured. He hated pain. Looking at Eldritch, he shook his head and pointed toward the woman the potion should be used on. She could survive without it, but with the potion there wouldn't be any ill effects.

So he chose her. The hope from the people around him was gone. A small boy rushed to the wounded and hugged him.

"Don't go…" His voice broke. He buried his face into him, shaking. Eldritch nodded and moved toward the woman.

"Tell Revel I'll join them tomorrow." He didn't look back. He walked through the village, searching for an inn or someone from the caravan. The village was still the same. He just hoped there wouldn't be another attack tonight. He was out of mana.

"Status," he muttered. He glanced at his mana. Mana: 1/210. Then closed the screen. He had leveled up from healing the people in the square, but it felt bitter. He had never felt this powerless before. Even when he was a mundane, he had his family and master to rely on. If he hadn't tried to hide his healing, he could have saved the man. Because of the damned church, he left him to die. He spat, bitterness building on his tongue. It was already pitch dark. He followed where the light was.

The pain was still there, but he ignored it. It would last until the man died, and he didn't have much time left. An hour, maybe a bit more. His breathing was shallow, but he was getting used to it. He found a guard from the caravan, and he led him toward the tavern where they had rooms. Along the way, he noticed the villagers were still hard at work. Fortifying the walls. Adding more defenses. He guessed they would be working through the night. Fear lingered in every face he passed. He entered his room.

It was a double bed. He didn't know who he'd be sharing it with, and didn't care. He dropped onto the bed and closed his eyes. Memories surfaced. Every building in front of him burned. Bodies lay dead all around him. It was the massacre of his village. He ran from body to body, hoping to see a spark. However dim. But there was no one left alive. His house drew closer, but he didn't want to reach it. His heart was racing, his mouth dry. Adolin swallowed and crossed the last house before his.

The house appeared in front of him, burning like the rest of the village. Half of it was gone—the half with his room. With shaky legs, he took a step. Then another. Three bodies lay in front of the house. Unrecognizable. But he recognized them nonetheless. It was his family. He fell to his knees in front of them. His mother. His father. His little sister. Their bodies burned. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His hands shook as he reached out. On the day he became an official archmage, his family was gone. Murdered.

The mana around him stirred. It gathered around him. Then burst outward. The buildings around him crumbled, the flames in the village went out. The mana continued to stir. Lightning split the sky. The wind surged, cutting through the flames. The ground trembled beneath him. The air grew heavy. He had become an archmage, and couldn't save his own family. The ground trembled. Cracks spread beneath him. In front of the bodies stood a golden symbol. The symbol of the church, of the pantheon. He let out a crazed laugh.

The ground gave way. It collapsed into a crater. Everything else sank. His house stood alone at the center. He kept laughing. It grew louder. A hand touched his shoulder. He didn't turn.

"Adolin," his mentor said.

"Let it out." They stood like that for a long time. His mentor's hand tightened on his shoulder.

"We'll burn it all down."