Chapter Thirty: Is This a Healer? Well, Sort Of...

One hit, one kill!

Colin felt the monster beneath his axe struggle a few times before dying instantly.

The combined might of “Huntress’ Moment” and “Mutant Scholar”—as long as the monster's strength didn't surpass his own—meant that almost anything he faced was felled in an instant.

“Thank you, my lord!” called out the rescued servants in unison.

Colin nodded in reply and turned his eyes to the remaining dozen or so monsters. Since the battle had begun, he couldn’t have it end in just three seconds.

He had to finish them all.

With each swing of Colin’s axe, the monsters fell swiftly, and in less than ten minutes, the battle was over.

“Congratulations, you have obtained 7ml of Tainted, Dull Blood.”

“…”

A total of over one hundred and thirty milliliters of blood.

Yet, to Colin’s surprise, something else had dropped: another Twisted Soul.

“Hm? It seems there’s something good this time!” he mused in astonishment, noticing a new, special recruitment card in his pack.

[Special Talent Recruitment Card: Allows you to recruit one individual with special abilities. There is a chance of failure in summoning.]

[Note: The new recruit’s initial loyalty is at fifty percent. They will follow your orders, but violence against them is prohibited. If loyalty drops below thirty percent, they may leave at any moment.]

“There’s a chance it’ll fail? Hm, I’m not that unlucky, but the loyalty isn’t absolute like with the regular servants.”

Colin studied the description for a moment, then decided to use the card on the spot.

Mostly, he was curious—just how special was such a “special talent”?

He used the card, and white motes of light began to gather before him, blending and shifting, elongating and changing shape.

Through the glow, a petite female figure emerged.

She wore a white priest’s robe, stood about one meter sixty, with golden hair and blue eyes, her features delicate, and in her hand she held a book emblazoned with a golden sun.

She paused upon seeing Colin’s face, then drew a circle over her chest with her right hand, bowed her head slightly, and spoke gently:

“I am Sanaa Heraka, Priestess of the Holy Light. You may call me Sanaa, my lord.”

“Hello, Miss Sanaa. You may call me ‘my lord’ or simply Colin, either is fine.” As Colin spoke, he opened her personal information.

[Priestess of the Holy Light: Sanaa Heraka.]

Identity: Priestess of the Eternal Sun Church.

Description: Compassionate, gentle, a healer who brings the light of salvation.

Strength: Stage One.

Status: Hungry.

Satiety: 22 (1-20 extreme hunger, 21-40 hungry, 41-60 average, 61-80 full, 81-100 satisfied)

Strength: 2.9 (average human is 1)

Endurance: 2.3 (average human is 1)

Stamina: 2.1 (average human is 1)

Spirit: 1.8 (average mage is 1)

Intellect: 1.5 (magical enhancement, not related to conventional wisdom)

Mana: 500/500

Skills mastered: “Robust Constitution,” “Meteor Hammer,” “Sweeping Kick,” “Straight Punch,” “Stomach Strike,” “Enhanced Knockback,” “Crippling Blow,” “Blessing of Courage,” “Holy Light Healing”…

...

“Wait... Miss Sanaa, your stats and skills seem a bit off…”

Colin glanced at the slender, fragile-looking girl with golden hair and blue eyes, and couldn’t help but mutter. The skills were listed in order of potency, which meant this girl was better at fighting than healing…

And though he couldn’t see his own stats, he suspected that even his strength during Huntress’ Moment might not necessarily surpass hers.

Of course, he kept that thought to himself, wary of being on the receiving end of her skills.

He also noticed that the tome she carried—presumably her scripture—was reinforced with steel corners.

In a sense, this girl was truly a “special” talent among special talents.

“My lord, do you require my assistance? Although my ‘Holy Light Healing’ isn’t especially advanced,” Sanaa asked gently.

“No need, no need—actually, yes, I do.”

Colin, distracted by her profile, answered reflexively, but noticing her gaze shift toward the wounded servants, he quickly corrected himself.

“Praise be to your mercy.” Sanaa approached one of the more severely injured servants and raised her holy scripture.

Seeing the pain in their faces, a trace of compassion flickered in her eyes.

“Be careful not to... overdo it,” Colin blurted out.

“Pardon?” White light began to emanate from Sanaa’s scripture, but she paused and looked back at Colin.

“Ahem, nothing—just that I’ll prepare you some food shortly…” Colin coughed, changing the subject.

You definitely weren’t saying that just now... Sanaa blinked, but, focused on her healing magic, didn’t dwell on it.

She turned back to her work.

White light radiated from her scripture, bathing the wounded. Each one felt their pain lessen, wounds easing. Even those uninjured felt a sense of peace, their breathing growing calm.

“You’re truly a messenger of the gods!” the servants exclaimed in gratitude.

“It is simply my duty,” Sanaa replied with a gentle smile. Unused to such praise, she seemed quietly pleased.

“Eat something. Once you’ve eaten, you’ll be ready to—er, ready to get back on your feet.”

Colin brought her a bowl of meat porridge.

The scent made Sanaa’s eyes light up; she was indeed hungry. But as she reached out, something made her stop. Like a startled rabbit, she drew her hand back, swallowed, and lowered her sapphire gaze to her toes, murmuring:

“There’s meat in this… Such food must be precious. It’s something that could save a life, help someone endure their pain, perhaps even survive…

“Please, keep it safe. There’s no need to waste it on me. I still have a little food left. Though I was summoned, I vaguely recall there’s something…

“My scripture… I think I still have some roots tucked inside. They’re enough to keep me going a day, two at most…”

Though her past was hazy, she knew well what these people needed now: food—especially something this nourishing.

In desperate times, a bowl of meat porridge could mean the difference between life and death.

Where Holy Light could not save, food could.

A strange emotion flickered in Sanaa’s heart, as if she were seeing the starved bodies fallen beneath her light. She could not bear to waste such precious food on herself.

She opened her steel-cornered scripture; sure enough, inside were some nameless dried roots.

What kind of life have you lived… Colin’s mouth opened, a pang of sympathy catching him off guard.

But his hands moved quickly; he took the dried roots and tucked them into his pack before she could protest, speaking first: “Listen, this isn’t a special favor. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’ll be a burden to the whole team.”

At the same time, he tried to take her hand to pass her the porridge—but to his surprise, she wouldn’t budge. He let go, a little embarrassed.

Seeing Sanaa about to protest again, Colin added, “Don’t worry, I have plenty of food—enough to last for a long time.”

“Yes! Our lord is truly generous; he just made sure everyone had meat porridge,” the others chimed in.

“That’s right, that’s right…”

With their encouragement, Sanaa hesitated. “Really? You may not know how important food like this is…”

“Don’t worry.” Colin drew a dozen loaves of bread from his pack, wrapping them in his cloak.

This time, Sanaa believed him. She accepted the porridge, saying, “May the Sun bless you, Lord Colin.”

[Sanaa Heraka, Priestess of the Holy Light, has increased her loyalty to you by ten percent. Current loyalty: sixty percent.]

The system’s voice sounded in Colin’s mind.