As Ethan, Lirael, and Sylvie strolled through the bustling streets, silence lingered—until Lirael finally broke it with a sharp tsk.

"You just had to show off, didn't you?" she snapped, eyes narrowing as she looked up at him. "Seven soldier summons would've been more than enough, but no—you had to go all out. Ten soldiers and the wolves too?! Are you trying to put a target on your back? What if someone starts cooking up countermeasures now?"

Sylvie, who almost never took her Lirael's side in these little arguments, nodded firmly. "I agree with sister Lirael, Master. You revealed too much." Her voice trembled just slightly, as if she was nervous to oppose him.

Ethan raised a brow, lips tugging into a smirk. "What? If I was going to summon, then why not summon at full strength? Half-measures don't suit me."

"That's the kind of answer that makes you an idiot." Lirael huffed, folding her arms. "You use your full strength when your life is on the line, not when you're flaunting in front of some desk clerk."

"Yes, Master," Sylvie chimed in more softly. "You should keep your cards hidden. Even I could tell… it wasn't wise."

Ethan gave a dramatic sigh, running a hand down his face. "Haah… even my cute Sylvie thinks I was wrong. Looks like I really need to rethink my actions."

"You'd better," Lirael muttered, her long ears twitching in irritation.

"Yeah, sure, my stingy elf," Ethan teased with a crooked grin.

"Stingy?!" she bristled, cheeks coloring, but before their banter could escalate, the atmosphere shifted.

Up ahead, the adventurers' guild loomed at the end of the street. Instead of the usual lively flow of men and women heading in and out with tankards, maps, or contracts in hand, there was chaos. A small crowd was gathered outside, murmuring anxiously. Some bore bloodied bandages, others leaned on comrades for support.

Lirael's narrowed her eyes "What in the hell…?"

Ethan straightened, scanning the crowd. "No idea. But we'll find out when we head inside"

They moved quickly, slipping past the anxious adventurers outside. The heavy doors creaked open, and the moment they stepped inside, the stench of blood struck their noses. The once-rowdy guildhall was now filled with groans, curses, and hurried footsteps. Tables had been shoved aside, replaced by makeshift cots. Adventurers lay sprawled across benches and floors, some clutching limbs bent at unnatural angles, others drenched in crimson-stained bandages.

Sylvie froze, hand flying to her lips. Her eyes wide with astonishment

"They're not dying," he murmured, tone low but firm. "Don't draw attention to us."

She looked at Ethan confused. "What attention you are talking about master?"

"Hmm? You want to heal them right?" Ethan asked.

"Ehh? No. I only like healing Master, sister Lirael and people related to you...I don't care about others...I don't wanna..."

Lirael almost laughed "I think we got a corrupted Saintess in our team...not that I am complaining"

Both Lirael and Sylvie were surprisingly unaffected by the scene in front of them.

I think I underestimated the experiences they had went through.

Ethan just shrugged...It was better for him this way. Since he too didn't like showing unnecessary kindness. These people clearly overestimated their strenght and poked their noses where they shouldn't.

The three of them stood in the doorway, absorbing the scene.

Then, cutting through the chaos, a female voice rang out from deeper inside the guild.

The voice belonged to someone familiar. Ethan turned and saw the receptionist they had dealt with before—the same woman who had handled their serpent and orc subjugation missions. She hurried toward them, panting from exertion, then straightened, forcing composure into her strained face.

"Sir Ethan from Arkhaval Eternal Eclipse, right?" she asked quickly. "You have a healer in your team, correct?"

Ethan nodded once, gesturing toward Sylvie.

Relief surged across the woman's expression, her eyes brightening with desperate hope. "Please—some of the adventurers are on the verge of death. Our healers are completely drained of mana. If you could… heal just a few, we'll compensate you generously!"

Ethan just nodded his head. "Lead the way."

Denying now would only put him in bad light.

The receptionist turned sharply and led them deeper into the guild hall. The further they went, the thicker the stench of iron became. The chatter and clamor of a normal guildhall were gone, replaced by groans, hurried whispers, and the rustle of bandages.

The sight awaiting them was grim. Adventurers lay scattered across benches, tables, even the floor. Many clutched bloody stumps where arms or legs had been, others gasped for breath through crushed ribs or open wounds that refused to close. Pools of red had seeped into the floorboards despite the frantic efforts of attendants trying to stem the bleeding.

Among them lay exhausted healers, still in their white robes, their faces pale and eyes dull. Some had collapsed mid-casting, slumped against walls with trembling fingers. Dozens of empty potion bottles—mana and health both—littered the ground. They had been used past their limits, their effects dulled, their harm beginning to outweigh their aid. When potions are used in excess in short amount of time, it does more harm and good.

Sylvie's spoke in Ethan mind.

"Master, we could make some more money if I heal them...should I?

she still looked at Ethan first. He gave her a single nod.

"Yeah...extra coins don't hurt."

She stepped forward. "I'll begin."

Ethan also had the class abilities of Saint. But he couldn't risk exposing this ability of his. The safety of him and people close to him came first.

Golden greenish light flared between Sylvie's fingers.

[Luminuos Mend]

The glow spread across a man with a deep gash running across his chest. His breathing steadied almost instantly, color seeping back into his face. Relief swept through those nearby.

The passive effect of Saintess class also activated.

Her aura burst forth, flooding the hall with warmth and radiance. The receptionist blinked against the sudden brilliance. When Sylvie placed her hands over a young adventurer's severed arm, the impossible began—flesh, bone, and muscle knitted together. Before their eyes, the limb regenerated.

Gasps rippled through the hall.

Lirael pressed a hand to her face with a groan. "Ahh… she actually did it."

Ethan grimaced. Damn. Regenerating limbs… only high-tier healers can pull that off. I need to bring up some excuse. Now everyone knows.

The receptionist froze, staring with wide eyes. "She… she can regenerate? But… that's can only be achieved by high-" Her words trailed off, disbelief warring with awe.

Isn't she that mans slave? How did...

Across the room, adventurers who had given up on their futures began to stir. Men missing legs or arms stared at Sylvie as if she had dragged them back from a cliff they'd already fallen from. Hope sparked in their eyes again.

Ethan didn't interfere now. The secret was already out, and stopping her would only make it worse. Instead, when Sylvie began to falter, he quietly handed her a glittering, high-tier mana potion which he bought for 25,000SP, its liquid glowing faintly.

"Here, Sylvie drink it."

She obeyed without hesitation, her aura swelling once more. One by one, she moved through the wounded, restoring what was thought lost. A leg here, an arm there, wounds that would have crippled others for life erased in golden light. The guild hall, once filled with groans, now erupted with startled cries, choked sobs, and murmurs of astonishment. Sylvie then proceeded to to go outside and heal others when people inside were completely healed.

Even the healers lying pale on the ground watched with wide eyes. One whispered hoarsely, "Her mana… how much does she have?"

Another let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "That girl… she's on the level of a court healer at least. Maybe higher…"

The words spread like wildfire. High-level healer. No one knew who Sylvie really was, but she was a life saver.

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