Feedback Isn't Blaming Others
Feedback wasn't about blaming others, but the time I'd blacked out didn't feel all that long. The sight that naturally came into my fluttering eyes was the cave ceiling, with stalactites broken off here and there. And on one side, Hanbyeol's robe wrapping her meager chest. Not that I meant to belittle her, but the image that popped into my blank mind made me think, damn, it's really flat—and no sooner had the thought crossed my mind than my senses snapped awake. They say a woman's intuition can pierce right through a man's idle fantasies.
"Unni? You awake? Thank goodness."
I flinched for no reason, and it would've been harder for her not to notice. Hanbyeol stroked my hair with a gentle voice as she asked.
"Yeah. How'd it go?"
"We got it. Chopping off the head did the trick. Looting now."
I hadn't done much in the final moments, so I felt like a freeloader, but whatever. Objectively speaking, widening the view and calling out patterns ahead was my role. Contribution-wise, I'd pulled at least half a person's weight, right?
I couldn't roll over like on a bed, so I grunted trying to sit up using just my core, but Hanbyeol pressed down on my shoulder to stop me.
"You need more rest, unni. Iris-unni said so."
"Even if I rest, I'd rather do it back home..."
"We'll let you rest there too. Just lie down for now."
"It's just... lying here hurts. And it's cold..."
It was an excuse, but the bare rock floor really was hard and icy, chilling me to the bone. Without consciousness, my body temp had dropped even more. But with a flick of her wrist, Hanbyeol conjured something. The ground beneath my back trembled faintly, warming up around me. And the hard earth softened into fluffiness, like it'd been churned to mulch.
"...Did you do this, Hanbyeol?"
"Magic's pretty convenient, huh."
Tell me about it. A bit scary, though. It went against my principle of only lying on beds, mattresses, or sofas, but since Hanbyeol had made this dust pit cozy for me, I stayed put and waited for the others to wrap up. Dirt could be Purified in one go anyway, and above all, Hanbyeol wouldn't let me up no matter what.
"Saintess, you're awake?"
Having overheard our chatter, Iris approached mid-dissection of the lizard. She swept away the fresh lizard blood splattered on her body with a hand and Purified it, returning to her usual pristine red priestess inquisitor look. Did she really need to butcher it that thoroughly? But since this game world had become reality, mobs wouldn't just drop items and vanish—I got it. Gotta skin, bone, and butcher for weapons, armor, or food yourself.
"Yeah, but Hanbyeol won't let me up..."
"Let me check your condition real quick."
"I'm really fine. Broken bones heal right up with Recovery, and passing out was just exhaustion... Mmph."
Hanbyeol pinched my lips shut. I glanced up at her with wide eyes, and she wore this suspiciously dangerous smile, like she'd make me regret saying more. So I quietly let Iris examine me.
"How many bones were broken?"
"Uh, not sure exactly... I didn't check status, but I know ribs and back were cracked or twisted. Legs probably too? They're fine now, though..."
I sneaked peeks at Hanbyeol while describing symptoms, gauging if it was okay. Every time I looked, she'd catch my gaze instantly, smirking back—scary enough that I dropped my eyes.
"'Not hurting' doesn't mean it's fine. Bruises or bleeding can be healed by any priest, but shattered bones need serious skill. If they healed misaligned and fused that way, it might not hurt now, but..."
"W-Wait, like Zeratul-walking around?"
Sudden anxiety hit; I tried lifting my waist to check my lower body. Predictably, Hanbyeol blocked it instantly. Unable to even sit up, dread washed over me. Were my legs fused wrong? Hips? Pelvis? Ribs poking through flesh?
"What's a Zeratul?"
"That was a joke—please say it's a joke, Iris. My bones aren't backward or anything, right? Hanbyeol, no way you're keeping me down to hide it...?"
"That's why I'm examining you."
Iris soothed my panic with calm words, placing warm palms on my cheeks. The heat eased my fears. Right—two healers here; if it's bad, we can fix it. Her hands trailed down my neck vertebrae, tickling slightly; I twitched and murmured slyly,
"If the bones are wrong, then...?"
"We'd rebreak that part, realign, and heal properly."
"J-Joking, right?"
"Don't worry. Hanbyeol handles telekinesis, so she'll snap 'em clean and quick."
"Unni, I'm good at control—don't stress."
"H-How could I not?!"
Was this really medical? Her hands slipped into my cleavage, probing the frame around without groping my breasts. My oblivious sensitive body heated up anyway, but bound as I was, I bit my lip and pinched my trapped forearms. If I got aroused from this, I'd be no better than an animal.
"T-Tickles... almost done?"
"Gotta check every bone and joint. You're so slim, it feels clear under my hands—won't take long. I know every inch of Ivy's body, so no worries about misdiagnosis."
"Um...? 'Know every inch' what?"
"We sisters were poor, so I tailored her clothes myself. Had to know her measurements and build inside out."
I scolded myself for the lewd thoughts—I'd imagined Iris groping Ivy everywhere. Sewing and fighting? Iris was a powerhouse. Meanwhile, I was just a one-trick retiree-wannabe office drone. Here, a healer purist to boot. Unemployed, I'd end up at some clinic charging pennies per heal. Not like healers were rare; maybe develop other skills? As I pondered seriously, her hands reached the tickliest spots: waist and pelvis. Holding my breath didn't help; the tickling and stimulation mixed into unintended giggles and moans.
"Ahaha, haaah, ungh, hnnng..."
"That ticklish?"
"G-Guess I'm super ticklish..."
"Heard ticklish people are perverts."
Hanbyeol tossed it casually as a joke, but it stabbed my heart like a dagger. Sure, I was a bit into it, but it hurt no one—just this body's sensitivity, and embracing it was a crime? The mental damage hit hard; I must've pouted unconsciously, 'cause Hanbyeol chuckled and stroked my cheek.
"Kidding."
"Saintess has a soft heart—jokes like that really hurt her."
"Yeah, unni's about to cry."
"...Not crying."
"Right, unni won't cry."
My face burned hot. Still, Iris's hands progressed safely to my knees. Ragged stockings with runs didn't faze her; she kneaded knees and calves, then shins to ankles.
"Gonna remove your shoes for a sec."
"O-Okay..."
Letting someone handle my feet felt weird; my cheeks warmed. Well, after pelvis and groin, what was this? No clue what gaze Hanbyeol shot me. Disdain? Grimace of disgust? If she knew I felt pleasure from a woman's touch on this borrowed body... I'd have to bite my tongue and die.
"Ahng, hnnng..."
No sooner thought than Iris's fingers pressed my soles like acupressure. The kneading brought a different tickle from thighs or pelvis.
"Unni, guys are here—don't make those noises..."
"Ahem. We're fine—keep going. Helping sis not hurt, right?"
"Yup. Think of us as butchering machines. No people here."
Aware of others, I turned my head away from the voices, holding my breath to stifle moans. They got it, but embarrassment was embarrassment. Tried pulling legs from tickles, but Iris's grip was ironclad. After thorough checks, she announced satisfyingly,
"Lucky—bones all fused normally. No idea how you aligned them so fast. Saintess, your healing's top-tier."
"Right? Took hits that'd shatter bones, tear flesh—look, pristine now."
"Range seems solid too."
I couldn't lift my head from the praise barrage after enduring. All embarrassing, but validating my efforts made me sit up beaming.
"Just did my job."
"But throwing yourself to save me too? Overkill."
The warming mood chilled. Hanbyeol's scolding hit intuition: harsh feedback time. She dissected facts point-by-point to others, undeniable blame—not.
"Iris could heal too, but you know the gap if you go down. If I hadn't held back flames for pattern practice, then what? If I were average caster?"
So she held back. Cosplay power-save for newbies' growth—reliable bus driver. Felt secure with insurance, but feedback was mine; I defended my principles.
"But you're still young..."
"Not young! 19—legal drinking abroad, adult here. I get the shield from not knowing my chant passive. Super grateful. But sacrificing yourself to save others? No next time. Better let ally drop and Resurrect. Caster steps in AoE and pillars? Let 'em die."
True. Revived players return low HP/mana/resources, refilling mid-fight. Healer down? No chance. Other classes change it, but party/raid meta prioritized healer/tank over DPS. Prioritize their recovery on wipes.
"But if you got hurt..."
"I'm not some fragile mage needing your guard. You're frailer—you need protecting. Grateful you care... but that habit saving others gets you hurt again..."
I'm the hurt one—why's she tearing up? Apologized first.
Honestly, other mage? I'd let 'em eat dive. At least dodge for super-save chance.
"Wouldn't help others like that. 'Cause it's you. Anyway, I'll be careful. Sorry."
Hated making her cry. If not her max-level kill, we'd wiped. Humility acknowledged.
After promising protection but doing zilch during my hit, her tail now stroked Hanbyeol's arm instead. Staring absurdly, she yanked me into a hug.
"Yeah—prioritize yourself. No more hurts. Got it?"
As if patterns let me choose. Fake promises no, but nodded compromise.
"I'll try."
Feedback done; she quit nagging me. Sharp analysis shifted: Jonathan good aggro/head-turn, but parry rate low burdened heals—learn tank swaps. Jimmy: curb leaps to dodge ranged projectiles. Both nodded agreement. I tried slipping from Hanbyeol as she eyed Iris, but her hug held firm. Her breaths pressed/released my chest vividly—embarrassing. She's really flat, I thought.