Chief Physician Exam (4)
“Hoo, how many of these bastards are crammed into this narrow cave anyway?”
Boris grumbled as he wiped sweat from his brow through the gap in his crude helmet. They had already wiped out their third goblin pack. Even with Father's Blessing of Vitality active, everyone was starting to tire.
“Any knights injured in the last fight, report to a healer immediately for treatment,” Tanya ordered.
One knight started heading toward Gis, but Boris tapped his shoulder and suggested otherwise.
“Hey, why don't you try the young master over there?”
“The young master?”
“Yeah. He put something on my shoulder earlier, and damn, it works great. Super cooling. Stings a bit when you apply it, though.”
“Really? Might as well give it a shot.”
Following Boris's recommendation, the knight came to me. I used Diagnosis right away.
…No activation.
Not even a scrape—just some goblin blood smeared on there. What a drama queen.
There are always guys like this, pretending to have some honorable wound for show. But hey, fake patients are perfect for a quack doctor like me. Welcome, customer.
“Hey, lift your shirt.”
“Like this?”
I slathered red medicine on the drama knight's belly with a brush. An orange glow flared, activating the healing effect. At least it gave a minimal stamina recovery.
“Whoa, it really cools things down. Thanks a lot.”
“See? The young master's got some real skills, huh?”
“Yeah, who would've thought.”
“'Who would've thought'? Watch it, that's rude,” Boris said, smacking the knight on the back of the head.
I tucked the red medicine back into my pocket and asked him, “Boris, you weren't exactly thrilled about me at first. What's with the sudden friendliness?”
“Aw, come on. I've seen you training with the captain every morning this week. I'm on night watch duty, remember?”
Boris laughed heartily, his shoulders shaking with the motion.
“I could tell you're dead serious about this exam. As the Gotberg heir, your skills are worth trusting.”
“Smooth talker, aren't you? I like it. I'll remember your name.”
“Haha, what do you mean? Now I get why you're so serious about it.”
“Why's that?”
Boris leaned in with a sly grin and whispered, “Well, I finally laid eyes on Her Highness the princess yesterday. Already so refined at her age—she'll be a stunning beauty when she grows up.”
Why bring up Asella out of nowhere?
“I'd want to be her personal physician too if she were my fiancée. I'd stake my life on it!”
“Don't talk like that so casually. Throwing your life around.”
You have no idea how many lives I've staked already. One or two wouldn't even register.
“Aw, no need to be shy. I've got a fiancée myself—childhood friend. Total tomboy, nothing like the princess's elegance.”
Boris got excited and started rambling on without prompting.
“Actually, after this subjugation's done, we're having a small wedding. Get this—she's already pregnant!”
Whoa, hold up.
“I hadn't saved much money yet, planned to knight it out for five more years before settling down comfortably. Talk about sudden.”
That's a death flag right there.
“You watch out too, young master. Kids are like Fenrir wolves—most dangerous when you let your guard down. They pop out when you least expect it.”
“Captain Tanya, what's with the discipline in the Gotberg Knights?”
I complained, and Tanya, who had been watching us intently, gave a slight nod.
“We're not the capital or imperial guard—just a provincial knight order. Their skills are solid, so bear with it.”
“What the—?”
I couldn't help but chuckle in disbelief. Fair enough. It was a knight order scraped together from the roughest village sword-swingers. I'd forgotten because Tanya was so composed, but knights were usually foul-mouthed types.
“Still, Boris—no chit-chat during operations.”
“What, you gonna court-martial me?”
“No, but I can dock your pay.”
“I'll shut up.”
Boris clamped his mouth shut and adjusted his helmet. Tanya knew how to handle rough men like a proper captain.
“Move to the next sector. Stay sharp.”
The squad advanced at her command. The cave grew deeper and darker. Oxygen thinned, making it hard to breathe.
“How do they even live in a place like this? Can't wait to wrap this up and get out.”
Boris griped openly. As he opened his mouth for more,
“Halt!”
Tanya shouted urgently, raising her fist. At the same moment—BOOM! Flames erupted overhead, engulfing us.
“Fall back! All units retreat!”
The rear squads retreated the way they'd come. But our forward squad was blocked.
“Magic. There's a goblin shaman after all!”
“My lord, get back!”
“Nngh…!”
The escort knights surrounded Father, prioritizing his protection. With a magic-using monster in the mix, even the rear healers had to pull back.
“We need to take out the shaman now!”
“Can't see through the smoke…!”
The knights panicked. They couldn't swing swords freely for fear of hitting allies.
“Cough, cough.”
Oxygen was dwindling, hot smoke irritating my bronchi. They must have lured us deep into the cave for this desperate play. Typical low-intelligence monster tactic.
“Time to use some saved divine power.”
I pulled a candy from my pocket and crunched it between my teeth.
“I beseech the wretched penny-pinching goddess.”
I prayed whatever came to mind. No issue—prayers just maintain faith and lubricate divine power flow.
“Protect us from raging flames.”
But specify the goal clearly. This was from the holy skill tree including healing spells. These skills ran on faith for potency and divine power as resource. Higher faith meant stronger spells, same spell or not.
Like mana for mages—if your total divine power was low, you couldn't cast healing or holy spells.
My divine power's at 22. This skill's a one-shot limit.
One use drains it dry. But one should suffice. Good thing I'd saved it for potential magic threats.
“Blessing of Flame Protection.”
—Fwhoosh!
Holy power radiated from me, enveloping the entire squad. A subtle wave rippled out, boosting fire resistance. Heat eased, breathing cleared.
“What is this…?!”
“The young master can use blessings!”
Knights who'd been covering noses and mouths dropped their arms in shock, snapping back to combat readiness.
Against the Demon King's army, anti-evil protection blessings were key.
Unlike magic, holy and healing spells didn't need drawn circles. Think the spell, pray, and it auto-forms.
“Heat's dropping!”
“We can charge!”
“Smash that goblin's skull!”
The heat that faded from their skin ignited their hearts. Knights charged with fire in their eyes.
“A blessing? How can you use such advanced magic?!”
Gis gawked at me incredulously.
“Isn't this basic for an imperial chief physician?”
“Hah, as if…! Even I can't!”
Gis stuck out his tongue and dashed after the knights. He chanted healing spells diligently. My current skill tree had no blessings. But endless use pre-regression had burned it into my brain. Like pedaling a bike without thinking—the holy power flows, and the spell comes naturally.
Oof, dizzy.
High risk, though. My body couldn't support divine power for top-tier spells. Memories of that hellish hero party made my stomach churn.
“There it is!”
Boris yelled, leaping forward boldly. I spotted it too. Amid the goblin horde, a particularly large one waved a whittled stick like a staff.
“Puts on a sackcloth and thinks it's a wizard, the monster scum!”
Boris barreled through small goblins toward the shaman, swinging his sword to cleave it in one go.
—Grrr!!
Whoosh—crash!
But the shaman swung its arm, landing a heavy blow that sent Boris flying into the wall.
“Gaaah!”
Boris hit the ground with an undignified yelp. The shaman wielded a brutal club in its off-hand, swinging it wildly.
He'd rushed in expecting a regular goblin. Shamans cast magic, sure—but as pack leaders, their size and strength dwarfed normals. Think a weak ogre on a good day.
“Boris!”
Tanya flowed in gracefully, sword flashing.
“Knock the staff away!”
She reacted instantly, batting the staff with her sword's flat to unbalance it, then sliced its stubby body diagonally in a flawless strike.
—Grraaak!!
Other knights followed, piling on. Robbed of its casting tool, the shaman had no defense and finally perished.
“Subjugation complete!”
“We did it!”
The knights mopped up the remnants. Time for me to do my part.
“Boris.”
I rushed to him—he'd taken a solid hit.
“Ngh, tch…!”
Boris gritted his teeth against the pain, barely stifling screams.
No need for Diagnosis. His left calf was fractured—skin bulging from the break.
“Y-young master… if I don't make it, tell Ney I loved her so mu—.”
“Drama queen. Who asked you to plant a death flag?”
I smacked his forehead to shut him up and snap him out of it. Not too hard, but the wall impact angle was bad.
“I'll heal him!”
Gis rushed over, shoving past my shoulder. Big injury meant big points—he wouldn't miss the chance.
Gis cast a healing spell, and it took effect right away. Light particles gathered at Boris's wound.
But.
“Argh, aaagh!!”
Boris couldn't endure and screamed. Obvious why—the healing was bending his broken bone the wrong way. Shattered edges stabbing inside? Pure agony.
“Can't take it, can't! Stop!!”
Boris shoved Gis away and collapsed. I caught his shoulder. Breathing ragged, forehead drenched.
“It's the goddess's grace. Pain comes with healing—bear it!”
Gis scolded him instead. Thwack—I stuck the candy stick to Gis's forehead.
“Huh? What's this?”
Remnant of the one I'd just sucked.
“I'll take it from here. Patients have the right to refuse treatment.”
“Hah, like it'll be different with you? That red stuff stung too…”
“I've got something better.”
I pulled a different vial from my pocket.
Effect: Nearly eliminates pain for 5 minutes.