A Cute Healer Appears

It was the day after Ugalu had received his name.

From early morning, Lakia sat inside a small stone chamber with a sheet of leather parchment spread before her.

The power that had healed her burns in an instant the day before. The force that had soothed even a hatchling dragon's restless heart. Having witnessed both with her own eyes, she needed to understand Ugalu's ability with precision.

Countless dragons would be born in the years ahead. A child might get hurt. The orcs might suffer serious injuries while hunting or building. If she was going to avoid asking the impossible of Ugalu every time, she first had to know exactly how far his power could reach.

Lakia quietly wrote across the first line of the parchment.

Just then, the chamber door eased open a crack.

"U-ang."

Ugalu, barely awake, stumbled inside. His round belly hung so low it nearly brushed the floor, and his stubby legs wobbled left and right with every step. Still blinking sleep from his eyes, he spotted Lakia, and his tail began to wag as he toddled toward her in a hurried little scramble.

"You're up?"

"U-ang."

Lakia scooped him up into her arms. Ugalu burrowed into her embrace as if it were the most natural place in the world, pressed his belly against her chest, and narrowed his eyes contentedly.

"Still sleepy?"

"U-oong."

The drowsy reply made Lakia laugh softly as she stroked his head.

"Help me out for a little while."

"I'll give you something tasty when we're done."

Ugalu's eyes snapped wide open.

"U-ang!"

The voice was far livelier than before. Sleep had fled in an instant.

A short while later, two orc healers and several warriors entered the chamber. All of them carried light injuries from training or work. No one had hurt themselves on purpose — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lakia made certain of that first.

"None of you are badly hurt, right?"

"No, ma'am."

"Today is for confirming Ugalu's ability."

"If it becomes too much for him, we stop immediately."

Lakia nodded.

"Good."

"Then let's begin."

The first orc stepped forward. A long gash ran down his forearm. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the flesh still gaped open.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Lakia set Ugalu on her arm.

"Right here."

Ugalu stared at the wound. There was none of his usual playful expression. Carefully, he brought his nose close and sniffed. A moment later, his small tongue slowly licked across the cut.

A warm golden light spread over the wound. It was not blinding — it rippled outward as gently as sunlight skimming across water. The parted skin drew together. The raw red flesh slowly knit itself closed. The bleeding stopped completely.

Ugalu licked the same spot once more. The wound vanished without a trace.

The orc flexed his arm in disbelief, clenching ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his fist and bending his elbow. Not a shred of pain remained.

"Are you all right?" Lakia asked.

"Yes."

The orc nodded, still looking stunned.

"Even the throbbing from a moment ago is gone."

Lakia recorded it on the parchment.

She was about to finish writing when the orc carefully spoke up again.

"There's one more thing."

"What is it?"

"My mind feels strangely at ease."

Lakia lifted her gaze.

"Explain."

"I was furious with a comrade who made a mistake during training. Until just now, I felt like I'd start shouting the moment I saw his face."

The orc paused, thinking.

"But now..."

"It doesn't seem like something worth getting that angry over."

Lakia wrote again.

It was affecting not only the body, but the heart as well.

The second orc stepped forward. This time it was his palms. Hauling rough rope all day had left them covered in blisters, the skin peeled raw in places.

Ugalu slowly licked across the palm. Golden light bloomed. The burst blisters sealed over almost at once. The stripped skin recovered as if brand new.

Lakia examined the palm carefully. The calluses remained untouched. The parts that had formed to protect the body had been left alone. Ugalu's healing restored only what was needed.

She wrote that down without leaving anything out.

The third was an orc with a sprained ankle. The joint was badly swollen, and the pain twisted his face with every step.

Ugalu studied the ankle for a long time. This one did not end with a single lick. He worked slowly, over and over. The golden light seemed to sink inward rather than simply wash across the surface.

Before long, the swelling began to visibly recede. The orc carefully set his foot down. One step. Then another. A little later, he was even jogging lightly.

"It's completely healed."

Lakia looked at Ugalu. He was wagging his tail with a perfectly unbothered expression. He wasn't even out of breath. There was no sign of exhaustion.

She popped a piece of dried meat into his mouth.

"Good job."

"U-ang."

Ugalu made a happy little sound as he chewed.

The research continued. Minor burns. Bruises. Muscle aches. A cough from breathing smoke too long. A thorn lodged deep in a finger. They checked every kind of injury in turn.

The thorn had to be removed first. While it was still embedded, the wound would not fully close. Only after Lakia herself pulled it free did the healing finish. She recorded that fact as well.

As time wore on, Ugalu's movements grew gradually slower. At first he had scampered about with his tail wagging. After the sixth treatment, his breathing turned a little rough.

It was around the end of the eighth treatment that Ugalu plopped down hard. Strength drained from his short legs. His head slowly drooped.

Lakia scooped him up at once.

"Ugalu."

"U-oong."

Even his voice had no energy left. His eyes were half-closed. She checked his heartbeat, then his breathing. There was nothing wrong with his body — only that his strength had been greatly depleted.

She took out a piece of dried meat and held it near his nose. He gave a small snort. His eyes slowly opened.

"So you can still eat."

"U-ang."

Lakia tore the meat into small pieces and fed them to him one by one. After a few bites, his tail started moving again. A little more, and the light returned to his eyes.

An orc healer watching them spoke.

"It seems he uses his own power when he heals."

"I think so too."

Lakia gently stroked Ugalu's back.

"The more wounds there are, the faster he tires."

"And eating or resting seems to restore him."

She wrote the final entries.

When she finished recording, Lakia held the sleeping Ugalu tightly against her. His round belly was warm, and his tiny breaths rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

He was still a young dragon. He carried a power that could save many lives. Protecting that power for as long as possible, she realized, was part of her role as well.

Lakia added one last line to the parchment.

Beneath that sentence, she slowly drew two underlines.

And so the first study of the divine healing came to an end.

Quiet air settled over the stone chamber once more. The orcs had all gone home, and Lakia, finished with her notes, began stacking the leather sheets neatly one by one.

Bandages. Herbs. A small water flask. Needle and thread. A jar of ointment. The table was piled high with everything used for the treatments.

"I have to carry all of this back."

Lakia let out a small sigh and lifted the box with both hands. It was heavier than she expected. Before she had taken more than a few steps, she had no choice but to set it back down.

That was when it happened.

Ugalu, who had been dozing against her, slowly opened his eyes.

"U-oong..."

He blinked sleepily around the room, then fixed his gaze on the wooden box sitting on the table. Lakia followed his eyes.

"What is it?"

Without a word, Ugalu toddled toward the box. On his short legs he crawled right up to it and plopped down in front of the wooden crate.

Lakia thought he meant to lick it. Why would he do that? It's not even injured.

Ugalu tilted his head, then tapped the corner of the box with a front paw. And slowly, he opened his mouth.

"U-ang."

His mouth was as small as ever — barely big enough for a single apple. He stared at the box a moment longer, then opened a little wider.

Lakia snorted a laugh.

"You can't eat that."

Ugalu looked back at the box as if he hadn't understood a word. His tail swayed slowly. He wore the expression of a child who had just thought of a very fun game.

A moment later, he stretched his head toward the box.

Lakia watched, half dazed. She couldn't say why. There was no rational reason for it. And yet, strangely, she could not look away. She felt, with absolute certainty, that Ugalu was about to do something.

"Ugalu..."

The instant she spoke his name, a faint golden light flickered inside his mouth. Then Ugalu gave a small cry.

"U-wang."

In that moment, his tiny mouth began to open wider. At first Lakia thought he was yawning. It opened further. And further still. The mouth that had barely fit an apple was suddenly as wide as a human head.

Lakia's eyes went round.

"...Huh?"

Ugalu's face was perfectly calm. His chubby body was unchanged. His short legs were unchanged. The only thing different was his mouth.

The inside was unnaturally dark. Where a throat should have been, there was only a black space with no end in sight — a deep, silent darkness that seemed to swallow even light.

Without thinking, Lakia took a step closer and peered into Ugalu's mouth. There was nothing. No tongue. No teeth. No throat. Only endless black space stretching on and on.

"……."

In that brief instant, Ugalu nudged the wooden box with a front paw. It slid toward his mouth.

Lakia reached out too late.

"Wait—"

It was already over. Ugalu dipped his head slightly, and that enormous mouth swallowed the box whole.

Clunk.

The wooden crate vanished completely into his mouth. And yet, for all that a box that size had gone in, Ugalu's neck did not swell at all. His belly stayed the same. His body did not change. There was not even the motion of something going down. The box simply disappeared into the black space.

Ugalu slowly closed his mouth. In an instant, the enlarged jaws shrank back to their original size as if nothing had happened. Round face. Tiny snout. Chubby cheeks. It was the usual Ugalu.

He flicked out his tongue, looked up at Lakia, and wagged his tail.

"U-ang."

He looked exactly like a child waiting to be praised.

Lakia could not speak for a long while. She replayed what she had just seen over and over in her mind.

Did he eat it?

That was the first thought. She shook her head at once. If he had eaten it, his belly would have swollen. There should have been the sound of wood being chewed. And more than anything, a box that size could never have fit inside that tiny body.

She scooped Ugalu up and felt his stomach. Soft and squishy, same as always. She pressed here and there with her hands. Not a single edge of the box could be felt.

"Ugalu."

"U-ang?"

"Where did you put that box just now?"

Ugalu tilted his head. Then he opened his mouth a little to show her. An entirely ordinary mouth. A pink tongue. Tiny teeth. Of the endless black space from moments before, not a trace remained.

Lakia looked back at the table. The box was definitely gone.

Every gaze in the room settled on Ugalu — but Ugalu alone, as if nothing at all had happened, licked Lakia's finger and swished his tail back and forth.

"Uu-ing-ing..."