A crowd had already gathered—a small ring of murmuring people, faces half-hidden behind scarves and winter hoods. Their whispers buzzed like insects in Kana’s ears as she sat propped against a stone bench, Suri and Boris crouched close on either side.

  “I’m alright,” Kana muttered, though her voice wavered.

  Suri grimaced. “Did you look at your hand?”

  Kana attempted to turn her head, but pain flared up her neck like white fire. She gave up and rolled her eyes downward instead.

  Her breath hitched.

  Her hand was… wrong—bent at angles that flesh shouldn’t allow. Swollen. Darkening. Bone pushing unnaturally against skin.

  “Damn…” Kana breathed, a weak, trembling exhale. “This hurts like hell.”

  A shadow fell across them.

  When Kana looked up, the apothecary lady—the same one who helped her once before—was already kneeling beside her, worry tightening her expression.

  “Bring her to my shop,” the woman said firmly. “Now! Before it gets worse.”

  Boris didn’t hesitate. He scooped Kana up as if she weighed nothing, holding her steady, careful not to jostle her broken hand.

  The walk was slow and tense. People parted for them, whispering as Kana passed—some worried, some curious, some terrified after witnessing Ruvel’s strike. Kana kept her eyes half-lidded, every step jostling through Boris’s arms sending shards of pain down her arm. She tasted iron. Her vision blurred.

  They reached the familiar wooden door of the apothecary.

  Boris paused, frowning faintly. “It feels like this happened before.”

  Suri sighed dramatically. “Kana is officially a regular patient here.”

  They stepped into the same small room where Kana once fought poison with sheer will. The air smelled of mint, crushed herbs, and something metallic.

  “Drink this,” the apothecary lady said, handing her a small cup. The liquid inside was dark and smelled bitter enough to curl hair. “It’ll numb you. Because the next part… will be painful.”

  Kana didn’t argue. She swallowed it in one quick motion. The bitterness hit immediately, crawling over her tongue and sliding down her throat like cold tar.

  The woman nodded. “Let it settle for a moment. I need to prepare.”

  Soft clinks of glass and metal filled the small room as she gathered tools and salves.

  Suri leaned close and whispered, the worry leaking through her forced humor.

  “Hey, Kana. What did you do this time? You almost died.”

  Kana stared at her bent fingers, now slowly numbing.

  “I don’t know…” she whispered back. “This is the first time I’ve ever even met the guildmaster.”

  Her heartbeat thudded.

  The world blurred faintly from the numbing medicine.

  But her thoughts sharpened.

  Why did his skill mark me?

  What did he sense?

  …..

  [Lesser Heal]

  A faint green glow pulsed from the apothecary lady’s hands as she pressed them against Kana’s ruined arm.

  Kana’s body jolted. She groaned, breath catching in her throat. The numbing brew dulled the edges of pain, but the healing skill still sent sharp, twitching sensations racing up her bones—like needles of ice stabbing from the inside out.

  “Worse than I thought,” the woman muttered.

  She reached for a pair of broad, waxy leaves and laid them carefully along Kana’s forearms. They were cool—soothing at first—before the woman pressed blocks of smooth wood over them and tied everything tightly with braided cloth.

  The pressure made Kana wince, teeth clenched. Even numbed, she felt the tug of bone grinding faintly back toward alignment.

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  “This isn’t a permanent fix,” the lady said, tightening the last knot. “But it’ll keep your bones from shifting further. You’ll need someone with a proper [Full Heal] to fully recover.”

  Suri, Boris, and Kana said the same name at once, voices overlapping.

  “Elle!”

  Suri nodded eagerly. “We have a friend with that skill. She can heal this—easy.”

  Kana exhaled in relief, though her arm still throbbed. “For the payment—”

  The apothecary cut her off with a raised hand. “For the payment, this will all be covered by the guildmaster.”

  Kana blinked. “All of it?”

  “Your healing,” the lady clarified, “the damaged stall outside, the disruption in the district—every coin. All on him.”

  Boris snapped his fingers. “Oh. THAT’S why you helped her.”

  The apothecary woman snorted in annoyance. “There’s no such thing as free. But I don’t want my dear customers walking around with permanent damage. That would be a waste.” She gestured vaguely to Kana. “So yes—this benefits both of us. Win–win.”

  Kana managed a small smile. “You’re… quite good at calculating things.”

  “Thank you for the compliment,” the woman said, genuinely pleased.

  Kana didn’t bother clarifying that she hadn’t meant it as one.

  She simply lay there, arm bound, feeling the faint thrum of lingering magic under her skin. The room smelled of crushed leaves, herbs, and something metallic from the healing instruments. Suri hovered protectively. Boris paced near the window, glaring at anyone who peeked inside.

  Outside, the murmurs of the crowd continued—fear, curiosity, and rumors spreading like wildfire.

  Kana closed her eyes.

  Ruvel’s voice echoed in her mind—

  “My skill says she’s dangerous.”

  But he is probably at a higher level than me. Doesn’t make sense.

  ……

  After nearly an hour, the trio stepped back onto the street. The chaos from earlier had faded—vendors reset their stalls, people walked with hurried steps, and the capital’s rhythm slowly reclaimed the area as if nothing had happened. Only a cracked piece of wood from the ruined stand remained as a reminder.

  Noa, the vice–guildmaster, rushed toward them, panting hard. His dark ears twitched anxiously.

  “I heard what happened,” he said between breaths. “I’m very sorry. Will you… would it be alright if you could come with me to the Adventurer Guild?”

  Kana raised her bandaged forearms, eyeing him skeptically. “As long as you promise the guildmaster won’t attack me again.”

  Noa exhaled heavily, shoulders slumping. “It’s a long story… but I already explained your identity to him. It was a misunderstanding. This is the first time he’s seen more than a handful of people at once in nine years.”

  Kana blinked.

  Nine years?

  What kind of place—or what kind of training—turned a man into something strong enough to send her flying like a rag doll?

  Curiosity overtook caution.

  “Alright,” she said.

  The Adventurer Guild was conveniently right beside the apothecary shop. As they followed Noa inside, whispers spread instantly. Adventurers stared, murmuring at the sight of Kana’s splinted arms.

  Suri tugged Kana’s sleeve. “Are you sure about this?” Her voice dropped low, sharp with concern.

  Kana only grinned. “I’m more curious than scared.”

  Noa’s ear twitched again. “I promise. The guildmaster won’t lay a finger on you.”

  He led them upstairs, stopping at a sturdy wooden door. Noa knocked twice and pushed it open.

  Ruvel looked up from a stack of papers. Up close, he looked older—deep lines around his eyes, his shoulders shaped like boulders from years of strain. His massive sword leaned against the wall behind him. When he saw Kana, he immediately rose from his chair and bowed deeply.

  “I apologize,” he said, voice oddly gentle compared to the earlier chaos. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a lot of people. I’ve spent nine years in a dangerous region. Every time my [Danger Detection] appeared, it meant someone was attempting to kill me. Now, it became a bad habit this time around.”

  He paused, lifting the stump of his left arm. The sleeve was neatly folded and pinned.

  “And if my reaction was even a moment too slow… this was the consequence.”

  There was no bitterness in his tone—only a quiet, weary acceptance.

  Ruvel sat down, then gestured to the seats opposite him.

  “Please. Have a seat.”

  His smile was calm. Almost fatherly.

  But his eyes—those sharp, experienced eyes—still held the memory of how close he had come to killing her.

  “This is ten gold coins.” Noa placed a coin on the table, the soft clink far louder than it should’ve been in the quiet room.

  Ruvel leaned back in his chair. “You can hire adventurers below to fully heal you—or go to the church.” His expression tightened, guilt flickering behind his eyes. “And consider the rest as compensation for scaring you.”

  Boris gave a low whistle. Ten? Two gold coins were already more than enough to hire someone with a [Full Heal]

  “To show my sincerity,” Ruvel continued, “I’ll give you one dungeon item from my collection. I’ll invite you again once all of them are fully appraised.”

  Kana didn’t hesitate. “I accept.”

  Ruvel cleared his throat after a moment of silence, “I heard you two are from the academy. Gold badge holders, yes?”

  Boris straightened immediately. “Three of us, actually. I’m from the academy as well. Silver badge.”

  Ruvel’s gaze slid toward him. A beat. “Right. Three.”

  He exhaled, then said casually, “I am also from the academy. Gold badge.”

  All three of them froze. Then—almost in unison—they sprang up, practically tripping over each other as they bowed.

  “It’s an honor to meet a Gold Badge holder, Senior!”

  Ruvel laughed softly, a nostalgic sound. “That tradition still lives? Good. I always found it charming.”

  “Senior… may I ask something?” Kana said.

  Ruvel nodded. “Go on.”

  “What is your class?”

  “I used to be a [Swordsman],” he said then paused for a moment, “But now my class is [Great Vagabond].”

  Kana’s heart thudded. She was right. A class promotion existed. But what triggered it?

  “Do you remember when your class changed?” she asked.

  Ruvel tapped his chin, thinking. “Somewhere in my late thirties.”

  “And… the text of god? The one that appeared when it changed—do you remember what it said?”

  Ruvel hesitated. His fingers tightened slightly around the armrest.

  Kana noticed her excitement. “Sorry—I’m studying class. I’m very interested in them. If it’s uncomfortable to talk about, you don’t have to answer.”

  Ruvel blinked, then smiled. “Didn’t expect you to be the scholarly type. You remind me of Light.”

  He pulled out a blank parchment, fetched a quill, and carefully drew the words as best as memory allowed.

  “I’m not completely certain,” he admitted, “but it should be close to this. The moment it appeared… the text of god asked me a lot of questions.”

  Kana leaned in—and couldn’t help the grin stretching across her face as she read the parchment.

  [Lvl 30]

  [Class: Great Vagabond]