novelbin Chapter 358: Assault
Chapter 358: Assault
Alaric pushed the door open. The bell chimed softly.
The interior was... professional. Clean white walls lined with shelves holding countless glass bottles, potions in every color imaginable, organized by purpose and potency.
Dried herbs hung from ceiling beams, their scent mixing into something medicinal but not unpleasant.
A workspace dominated the center, table covered with mortars, pestles, essence-infused tools for grinding and mixing.
Natural light streamed through large windows, supplemented by essence crystals providing steady illumination.
And then, a woman emerged from the back room. She looked to be in her mid-thirties in appearance.
Grey hair pulled back in practical braid. Sharp grey eyes that immediately assessed Alaric with professional scrutiny. She wore healer’s robes, white with green trim marking her as licensed practitioner.
Her expression shifted. Eyes narrowing slightly, a frown creasing her forehead. "Who are you?"
Her tone wasn’t hostile. Just wary.
Protective of her space and time.
"I’m Azra," Alaric said. "Lady Vanessia said you could heal me."
The woman’s face relaxed immediately. The wariness disappeared, replaced by understanding.
"Ah. So you’re the lad Valcieri told me about." She gestured toward a stool near her workspace. "Come. Sit."
Alaric moved to the indicated seat. Sat down carefully.
The healer—Kyra, based on the name carved into the wooden sign outside—stood before him.
Her hands moved in practiced gestures. Healing essence began to flow from her palms, soft green light that felt warm and probing as it passed through his body.
She was silent for perhaps thirty seconds. Just channeling. Assessing. Reading his condition through essence resonance.
Then she stopped. Her hands dropped.
And she sighed.
"Your essence reserves are greatly damaged."
Alaric’s jaw tightened. "I know."
"No, I don’t think you do." Kyra moved to her workspace. Began pulling bottles and ingredients while she spoke.
"This isn’t simple depletion. Your channels aren’t just empty... they’re eroded. Like someone took sandpaper to the inside of pipes. Every time you circulate essence, you’re scraping against raw tissue."
She ground something in a mortar. The sound filled the space.
"Normally, I’d prescribe high-grade restoration potions. Force-feed your system the essence it needs to rebuild. But in your case..."
She shook her head.
"Those would do more harm than good. The potions are too concentrated and aggressive. Your damaged channels can’t process them properly. You’d get maybe ten percent benefit and the rest would just... leak out. Cause inflammation. Possibly make things worse."
Alaric absorbed this. "So what do I do?"
"Give it time." Her tone was blunt.
"Let it recover naturally. Your body will heal itself if you give it the space to do so. I can provide mild essence supplements." She gestured to bottles she was preparing.
"Things that support natural regeneration without overwhelming damaged tissue. But the actual repair? That’s all you."
She looked at him directly. "Most with damage like this would require months. Some even years, depending on how badly they pushed themselves."
Alaric’s expression became grim.
Months... I don’t have months.
Kyra must have read something in his face.
"But," she continued, "these things are unpredictable. They depend entirely on the individual’s essence structure. Bloodline. Natural recovery rate. I’ve seen people heal in weeks what should have taken half a year. And I’ve seen others take twice as long as expected."
She mixed the final ingredients. Poured the result into several small vials. "You’re young. Your body wants to heal. That works in your favor. And whatever bloodline you’re carrying..." Her eyes flickered to his crimson irises. "Seems potent. That might accelerate things."
She lined up the vials on the counter. "Take one of these each morning with food. Don’t skip. Don’t take extra thinking it’ll speed things up, it won’t. Just maintains steady support for natural recovery."
Alaric nodded. "How long do you estimate? Best guess."
Kyra paused. Calculated mentally. "Given your age and apparent constitution... three to four weeks for basic functionality. Maybe six for full recovery." She met his eyes.
"And come back in three days for a check-up. I want to monitor your progress. Make sure things are healing correctly."
Three to four weeks. Better than months. But still—
"Understood." Alaric stood. Gathered the vials carefully. "Thank you."
"Don’t thank me yet." Kyra’s expression was serious. "Thank me when you’re actually healed. Until then, rest. Don’t push yourself. Don’t try to train aggressively. Let your body do what it needs to do."
"I’ll try."
"Don’t try. Do." She walked him to the door. "I mean it. Push too hard now and you’ll set yourself back weeks. Possibly cause permanent damage."
The warning hung heavy in the air.
Alaric nodded once more and stepped out into the street.
The door closed behind him with soft click.
And when he gone out, he saw...
Henry wasn’t there.
Alaric looked up and down the street. No sign of the merchant. Just normal foot traffic, people going about their business, uninterested in one injured teenager standing outside a healer’s shop.
He sighed.
"Where is he now?"
And just stood there, waiting a few minutes. Shifted his weight. Checked the vials Kyra had given him, making sure they were secure in his pockets.
Still no Henry.
Probably got caught up at the market. Could take hours.
Alaric’s patience ran out. "I’ll just walk back."
He remembered the route.
Henry had led them here through relatively straightforward path.
Should be fine.
He started walking. Retracing steps from memory.
His mind wandered as he walked.
I need to be careful. Can’t afford to—
Then suddenly!
Someone slammed into him from the side.
Hard enough to knock him off balance. He stumbled and caught himself against a wall.
"Watch where you’re—" He started to say.
But the person who’d hit him was a woman carrying a basket.
Which had already dropped half her goods. Apples and other stuff rolling across cobblestones.
And she was staring at him with expression of absolute fury.
"YOU!" Her voice carried across the street. Drew attention. "You just... you made me drop... do you have ANY idea how much—"
"I didn’t." Alaric tried. "You walked into—"
"Don’t you DARE blame me!" The woman’s face was flushed.
"You were standing in the middle of the walkway like some idiot—"
I was walking normally. She came from the side without looking. This is ridiculous.
But a crowd was forming. People stopping to watch the confrontation.
This is going to escalate.
Before he could defuse it—
Another woman appeared. Wearing expensive clothes, silk dress, jewelry that caught the light. She moved through the crowd like it should part for her.
And it did.
She looked at the scattered produce. At the angry woman. Then at Alaric.
Her expression became cold.
"How did a barbarian like you dare to talk back to a citizen of Ashfeld?" Her voice was cultured, dripping with disdain. "Lyssa. Capture him."
A hooded figure stepped forward from behind the wealthy woman and gave a slight bow. "Yes, Mistress Revna."
Then they moved toward Alaric.
Wonderful. Just wonderful.