Restoration
Restoration. It's a spell similar in effect to the healing arts of divine power—literally restoring damaged parts of the body to cure them. Among spells, it's the one with the highest difficulty. The restoration spell circle is several times more complex than other spell circles.
Of course, using restoration wasn't particularly hard for me. But this was Florence Academy. If I used it, my identity as the Voodoo Cult Leader would be exposed in an instant.
Just use low-grade restoration. The risk of getting caught would be almost zero.
Sure, using low-grade restoration would drastically reduce the chance of detection. But "almost zero possibility" also meant there was still some possibility. And there were teachers here. If it were just students, maybe—but with teachers around, the risk doubled.
As long as there was even the slightest chance of exposure, I couldn't use restoration.
So what now? You can't handle healing circles or blessing circles—how do you plan to treat the injured hound?
Legba spoke curtly, his tone growing annoyed. It was a valid point. Right now, I had no way to heal the injured hound.
I'd never handled a healing circle before. But that didn't mean I couldn't now. So I started drawing one.
It was my first time ever attempting a healing circle, but it went smoother than expected. For a beginner's effort, it was coming out pretty neat. All those classes I'd paid attention to without dozing off, plus studying in my spare time, were paying off.
I'd gotten about 30% done when—
"All done."
A clear, resonant voice tickled my ears. Kim Jin-seo had finished treating her hound in less than three minutes.
The hound she'd healed wagged its tail vigorously, expressing its gratitude. I'd known since we were kids that Kim Jin-seo swept awards in martial arts and sacred combat tournaments, so her natural talent for physical techniques was no surprise. But I hadn't realized she was gifted at blessings and healing too.
God really was unfair. As if I needed another reminder.
"Phew, done!"
"Treatment complete."
"Teacher, we're finished."
And it didn't stop there. One after another, the other students succeeded, including Jeong In-ah and Gu Jun-hyeok. Meanwhile, I hadn't even hit 50%.
Then my hand started shaking. My heart pounded wildly, cold sweat beading on my forehead. I was getting anxious about falling behind.
"Five minutes remaining."
The teacher, walking among the finished students to grade them, made the announcement.
Unfortunately, time wasn't waiting for me.
You should've used restoration earlier. Too late now.
Legba chided me. Still struggling were me and four others. All the successful students were watching us.
Too many eyes now to switch to restoration. If I was going to use it, I should've done it sooner.
Pointless regret flashed through me. By then, my circle was about 75% done.
"One minute left. Wrap it up, please."
Progress slowed; time sped up. 90% to completion.
"Thirty seconds. Overtime means disqualification. Hurry!"
100%.
Light finally flowed from the healing circle. I'd somehow finished it, but it wasn't perfect—the shaking from my tension midway had ruined it.
The healing light enveloped the injured hound. Strength gradually returned to its lame leg. Thankfully, it worked.
I wiped my dry sweat, overcome with emotion. It was just a low-grade healing circle, but that was enough.
"Done."
"Yes, that student is the last one. Everyone else is disqualified."
I'd succeeded right before the 15-minute mark—around 14:59. Practice over.
The teacher walked among us with a grading sheet, checking the hounds' conditions. Once done, she headed to Kim Jin-seo.
"Good work, everyone. Let's start with Kim Jin-seo, who finished first."
The teacher stroked her hound, which wagged its tail and panted happily.
"Of course, faster healing is always better. Finishing before a major injury sets in is ideal. But haste makes waste—miss the details, and even quick healing loses meaning."
She laid the hound on its back. It rolled over, exposing its belly and wriggling playfully. The teacher gently petted it.
"This one got burns rescuing a citizen from a fire—legs, belly, and trachea. Legs and belly are visible, easy to heal. But tracheal burns? Invisible. Kim Jin-seo healed every fine detail perfectly. Textbook example."
The teacher heaped on praise. Sparse claps trickled from the students, then swelled like waves. They applauded her generously.
Kim Jin-seo's expression didn't change—blank, devoid of joy, elation, or pride. If anything, she looked bored.
"Oh, right. Charity Class had the top diagnostic scorer. Who was it? I'm looking forward to this."
She'd been lavishing praise on Kim Jin-seo, but now sought the top scorer. I'd hoped to let it pass quietly, but a few who knew me stared, forcing my hand.
"It's... me."
Late to class and barely squeaking by at 15 minutes—I felt guilty raising my hand.
"Ah, right. Do Seon-woo? Let's check your hound."
The teacher examined it closely—nodding occasionally, but frowning more, dissatisfied. I watched anxiously, like sitting on pins.
"Not bad. The dislocation is decently set, but some parts are lacking. Low-grade healing circle?"
"Yes."
I answered weakly. Confirmation kill.
"Joint fusion's incomplete—could dislocate again soon. A shame. But good effort. No need to feel down."
Her moderate encouragement didn't help. My morale was already shredded.
She moved to Jeong In-ah next, explaining her precise healing. But it fell on deaf ears.
Wait. That's not a blessing circle. It's a pentagram!
Legba's voice pierced my daze.
"Huh?"
I snapped alert at "pentagram." I whipped my head around. Far in the barn's corner, someone was drawing a magic circle. Not a blessing, healing, or spell circle.
A black magic circle. Ritual for black magic. All start with a pentagram—hence the name. And Satanists use black magic.
The one drawing it in the corner was the Satanist infiltrator at Florence.
"Kyaaack!!"
Before I could speak, a scream echoed through the barn. Ear-splitting, world-shattering.
A military hound was tearing into some Patience Class girl's arm. No innocence in its eyes now—just bloodshot madness and hunger.
"Agh, aaagh! Aaack—!"
"Help! Teacher, save me...!"
The screams didn't stop. Black magic turned the hounds into demonic beasts, attacking students en masse.
The once-quiet barn, with its earthy scent, now reeked of blood and cries.
Students with zero combat experience crumpled helplessly before 200 beasts. Chaos stripped everyone's calm.
Everyone but three.
"Stay calm. Huddle up. I'll handle it somehow."
First: Kim Jin-seo. She gathered the panicking kids. Following protocol—don't scatter against beasts, clump up.
She herded them, then shielded with strength blessings and more.
Second: me. I sought Jeong In-ah and Gu Jun-hyeok first. Planned to take them down one by one.
If we stayed calm, doable. But Jeong In-ah was panicking, hidden but useless. Gu Jun-hyeok, though...
His eyes analyzed coolly, unshaken.
"Gu Jun-hyeok!"
I called for help.
"Stick with me. We'll thin them out one by one!"
He looked at me sadly.
"Seon-woo. Sorryyy—!"
Then bolted like mad.
No chance of winning, so flee to survive. Rational, logical.
From his view. To me, he was just...
"You fucking traitor—!"
No curses or yells fazed him; he sprinted on without looking back. Damn, he was fast—track star material when running away.
Third: Gu Jun-hyeok. He chose flight rationally. Hate to admit it, but he was the calmest.
So cruel. Who would do this? Why?
I watched from my spot. Kim Jin-seo smashed beast skulls with punches and kicks—low lethality without weapons, stamina waning.
Bae Seong-hyeon had an ear torn off. Heavy bleeding, agony—no fighting.
The healing teacher, tending wounded, had her ankle bitten—immobile.
No one unscathed. Beasts? Still ~180.
Thicker legs trampling, sharper teeth ripping flesh. Barks and screams mingled.
Tragedy. Endless despair.
Gu Jun-hyeok fled; others panicked or wounded. Just me left.
But I couldn't solo 180 beasts. If someone else were unscathed, maybe. But me? No hope.
These ~200 students would be beast chow, dying miserably.
Hmm.
Legba murmured low, disagreeing.
I get your feelings. But don't lie to yourself.
"...Hah."
Pierced, I laughed hollowly. Truth: I had a way. Just didn't want to use it.
It'd save 200 lives. But I'd die. Or might.
Too risky. But worth it—no guarantee of death.
In the chaos, I called a Loa.
"Granbwa."
Loa of plants, forests, nature.
Granbwa responds to the call.
Her power activated; brilliant green light wrapped my fingertips. I pressed my hand to the floor, listening beyond.
Weeds, flowers, tree roots, countless plants in the barn screamed. I heard via power, spoke via power.
Crack, crunch—!
Earth twisted, cracks formed. Weeds and roots erupted skyward.
Like living things, they surged at the beasts.
Whoosh!
Drooling, rampaging beasts bound one by one. No escape, no bite or claw worked.
Futile struggles. But Granbwa's rapidly grown plants weren't frail.
The barn changed. Beasts wriggled, plant-bound. Students gaped.
Still tragic, but now with hope.
They fled while beasts were tied.
"Cough!"
Binding them pushed me to my limit.
You'll die! Prophet, stop! Enough! Cease the power!
Granbwa urged desperately. I couldn't stop. Not optional.
Nosebleed, blood tears, coughing blood—still binding, buying time.
Most students escaped. I bled everywhere, sustaining.
No one noticed my sacrifice. Too busy surviving.
Never expected thanks anyway.
Consciousness fading, collapsing imminent—but enough to save them with my life force.
"Ah..."
~40 left. Power failing. Consciousness flickering.
Body tilting back. I'd done enough. Time to rest.
I let go, falling.
Thud. But no ground.
"Good work."
Someone caught me. Weary voice.
(To be continued)