The Brilliant Healer's New Life in the Shadows: Volume 3 E-Book

Sakaku Hishikawa

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

With everything at the Royal Institute of Healing settled, Zenos, Lily and Carmilla return to their routine at the clinic in the ruined city. As Zenos reminisces about his mentor and his past, the three demi-human leaders announce the slums’ first-ever night festival to foster camaraderie and provide people with much-needed entertainment. Of course, the three of them being who they are, the festival also ends up turning into a “friendly” competition for Zenos’s heart. In a shocking turn of events, the peaceful festival is very nearly ruined by the sudden appearance of a certain underground faction of the slums...

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Prologue

Chapter 1: Night Festival in the Slums

Chapter 2: The Woman from the Black Guild

Chapter 3: Lady Liz’s Miscalculation

Chapter 4: My Childhood Friend, the Mastermind

Chapter 5: Feminine War Tactics

Chapter 6: The Confession

Chapter 7: Somewhere to Belong

Epilogue (I)

Epilogue (II)

Side Story: Bedtime Talk

Afterword

Color Illustrations

About J-Novel Club

Copyright

Landmarks

Table of Contents

Color Illustrations

Prologue

Life in a slums orphanage was notoriously harsh.

Children were seen as free labor and treated as slaves. No adults watched out for them, and they were only fed scraps once a day. Each child was assigned a task; things like meal duty and maintenance work were comparatively better, but most jobs, like begging, being sent away for hard labor, or criminal activities, were far from conducive to a child’s healthy development. Some were even abruptly sold off somewhere, and no one knew where they ended up, or what became of them.

Zenos’s task had been to loot corpses. It was a common occurrence in the slums for people to simply collapse and die; the boy’s job had been to quickly spot the bodies and steal anything that might be worth some coin. But he’d had no interest in doing so, and had often ended up burying the dead instead of looting them, only to be berated for it later.

To him, the sight of those people, dead in the street, had been like catching a glimpse of his own future. So perhaps at first he’d been driven by sympathy. Not only did these people fall over and die, they got looted too? Maybe it’d be better if he just brought them back to life, he’d thought.

And so he’d begun observing the numerous decaying corpses in the streets and learned the anatomical structure of various different species, visualizing how they functioned. Despite not knowing how to read the words, he pored obsessively over tattered books on anatomy and magic that someone from the orphanage had picked up from the roadside.

And thus, Zenos attempted to resurrect people. Every day, he’d cast spells on the dead, willing them to return to life. He lacked the know-how, but he had a mental image. Blood vessels, threadlike nerve fibers, muscles, skin. Those things would organically join together, repair themselves, and regain their original functions. He had a strange conviction that he could do it, even though he had no basis for it at all.

Over time, a white light began to envelop the corpses during his attempts. And today, at last, it seemed like it was going to work. The white light shot out, resounded, and the corpse’s fingers felt like they were about to move—

A harsh smack on his head from behind broke his concentration. The light dispersed and vanished. Turning around, he saw a dirty-looking man with a scruffy beard glaring daggers at him.

“Don’t ever use that power on the dead,” the man told him. “That’s for the living only.”

And that was how Zenos met his mentor.

***

“Zenos?” said Lily, tilting her head curiously. The afternoon sunlight pouring in through the window reflected off her blonde hair, making it sparkle and gleam.

“What is it, Lily?” Zenos replied, snapping out of his reverie and looking up at the young elven girl.

“Um, you were just spacing out, so I wondered if something’s up.”

“Huh. Was I?” he said, looking confused.

Lily glanced at the letter in the healer’s hand. “Are you reading Mr. Becker’s letter again?”

“Oh. Yeah, kinda.”

They were in a corner of a ruined part of the city that had once been decimated by a plague. Zenos was a brilliant healer but unable to obtain a formal license due to having been born in the slums, and thus had secretly set up a clinic here. His intention had been to operate quietly, away from prying eyes, but his days had turned out to be wilder than he’d imagined. Between visits from the leaders of the largest factions in the slums, a royal knight, and a rampaging golem from the Great Human-Demon War, his life had quickly become anything but on the down-low.

And last month, one of only seven elite-level healers in the whole Kingdom of Herzeth had stopped by. That man, Becker, had offered to turn a blind eye to Zenos’s illegal clinic in exchange for help with searching for a missing person from the Royal Institute of Healing. After many twists and turns, an unprecedented mass poisoning attempt, and a case finally closed, he’d returned to his clinic.

The letter in his hands was from Becker—part of the payment he’d received for his troubles—and described the man Zenos had once called his mentor.

“My mentor...” he muttered quietly.

Becker had supposedly once been close to Zenos’s mentor, yet even he couldn’t remember the man’s name or face anymore. According to the letter, this was likely due to a curse. The mentor—at the time an elite healer himself—had paid a steep price for dabbling in the forbidden arts of resurrection magic.

Zenos quietly recalled the furious expression on his mentor’s face after smacking him for trying to use resurrection magic on a corpse in the street. He still remembered the man, perhaps because the curse had activated before they’d met. Becker had written in his letter that, if Zenos wanted to know more, he should look for his mentor’s notes.

“His notes, huh...?” he murmured.

Lily peered into the letter. “Hmm. Are you friends with Mr. Becker now, Zenos?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Look, it says so right here.”

At the end of his letter, Becker had written, “Zenos, I hope your path as a healer is filled with fortune. Your friend...”

“Oh, you’re right. It does say that,” Zenos said. “I see. So we’re friends...”

“What do you mean, ‘you see’?”

“I haven’t really had friends in a while, so I’m not good at this stuff, you know.”

Aston and his other former party members most certainly weren’t his friends. And he got along with the demi-humans in the slums, yes, but they were also his patients. His mentor had been, well, a mentor, and Umin and Cress from the Royal Institute weren’t exactly his friends either.

An eerie chuckle echoed from above. “Not a single friend. What a lonely man you are,” said Carmilla, a wraith (and their housemate) clad in jet-black garb and wearing a mischievous grin.

“You say that like you have any,” Zenos pointed out.

“Of course not,” Carmilla retorted. “No one is worthy of Carmilla, the Lich Queen.”

“True. I doubt anyone can match up to a top-tier undead who’s been around for three centuries.”

“I reign upon a solitary throne. I need no friends. None can domesticate me,” she said, puffing out her chest proudly.

“Yeah, yeah...”

“Oh, right!” Lily interjected, as though she’d just remembered something. “I was thinking of baking a cake tonight. Will you be there, Carmilla?”

“Naturally.”

“Okay. I want you to eat it fresh out of the oven, so come down to the table as soon as I call, okay?”

Carmilla chuckled. “Of course. Nothing beats freshly baked. I shall be here as soon as you beckon me over.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve been thoroughly domesticated,” Zenos remarked, unable to help himself. He then propped his elbows on his desk, and his chin on his hands. “Friends, huh...” he mumbled. “I think I used to have some, long ago...”

Memories came to mind of huddling together in a dimly lit room, fending off hunger. The children he’d spent time with at the orphanage in the slums had been his friends, surely. But now he had no idea where any of them were.

Lily peered intently into Zenos’s face as he reminisced. “Hey Zenos, what am I to you?”

“Hmm? Well...” The healer crossed his arms and looked at Lily, who appeared tense. “You’re like...family, I suppose.”

“What?!”

“I mean, you know, I’ve never had any family, so I’m not sure, but...”

Lily approached him, blushing. “S-So, if I’m family, that makes me your wife, right?”

“Huh? Does it?”

“Yeah! It does! I’m your wife!”

Carmilla chuckled again. “Jumping to conclusions as usual, Lily.”

Lily grumbled. “What about Carmilla, then?” she asked Zenos.

“Uh... A guardian spirit?”

“N-N-Nonsense!” the wraith snapped. “How dare you call the Lich Queen a guardian spirit!”

“It’s a joke,” Zenos told her. “You’re family too.”

“Wh— But— I—” Carmilla stammered in confusion, then floated up, disappearing into the second floor.

“What’s her problem?”

“I think she was embarrassed,” Lily said.

As the healer and the elf exchanged glances, the clinic’s door loudly burst open, and three women—the leaders of the demi-humans in the slums—nonchalantly barged in.

“Ooh, what’s happening here? Anything fun?” asked Zophia of the lizardmen.

“I wanna join!” said Lynga of the werewolves.

“Don’t forget about me,” added Loewe of the orcs.

“So, like, why do you guys always come over together?” Zenos asked.

After the temporary closure due to Zenos’s infiltration of the Royal Institute of Healing, the clinic in the ruined city was slowly returning to its usual routine.

Chapter 1: Night Festival in the Slums

“The doc’s mentor, huh...?”

The usual gang was gathered at the clinic this afternoon, and the demi-human leaders, curious about Becker’s letter, were having a lively conversation.

“Must’ve been an impressive guy to be the doc’s mentor,” Zophia mused.

“I didn’t even know he had a mentor,” Lynga chimed in. “I was surprised.”

“He was an elite healer, yeah?” Loewe asked. “‘Impressive’ is right.”

Zenos took a sip of the tea Lily had brewed and nodded slowly. “Well, he was impressive... I think...” He’d been quite surprised to find out that his mentor, who’d looked like a dodgy old man at best, had actually been an elite healer. “He taught me to read, told me everything about the world of healing magic, all sorts of things. If I am who I am now, it’s thanks to him for sure.”

“Are you looking into this mentor of yours, doc?” Zophia asked.

“Well, I’m curious,” the healer admitted.

Lynga and Loewe both made a bit of a face at this. “I wouldn’t recommend it,” Lynga said.

“Me neither,” Loewe agreed. “I want to help you, Zenos, but I’m not too keen on that.”

“Why not?” Zenos asked.

Lynga and Loewe furrowed their brows. “I dunno much about magic,” Lynga replied, “but forbidden spells and curses? That gives me the creeps.”

“Tangible problems I can solve with my fists,” Loewe added. “But curses? I can’t punch curses.”

“Guess not,” Zenos muttered, crossing his arms behind his head.

Zophia propped her chin on her hand. “So, curses, eh... What even are they?”

Soon, all gazes turned to Carmilla, who sat at the edge of the table sipping tea. Noticing the many eyes on her, the wraith slowly raised her head and cleared her throat. “I know not the precise nature of curses,” she explained. “Some say they are a form of divine punishment, others believe them to be the whims of demons, and still others whisper of powerful contract magic from great wizards of eld. Whatever the case, one must know that meddling with the natural laws of the world incurs severe retaliation.”

“Wow,” said Lily in admiration, teapot in hand. “You know so many things, Carmilla.”

The wraith chuckled. “I have not lived for three centuries for nothing.”

“Except you’ve been dead this whole time,” Zenos pointed out as he always did, then let out a small sigh. “Well, it’s not like we can know for sure either way.”

In his letter, Becker had said to look for the man’s notes to find out more. Zenos did recall seeing a black leather notebook back when he’d traveled with his mentor. He’d innocently asked once to see it, been scowled at, and been denied. After that, he’d never seen the notebook again. His mentor had either hidden it somewhere or burned it; either way, it would be difficult to find.

There was actually one clue that came to mind, but even that was no longer a practical option. There was something I wanted to say to him... he thought, gazing out the window at the dazzling sunset.

“By the way, doc,” Zophia began, “this is kinda weird, but...”

“Hmm?” Zenos mumbled, suddenly brought back to reality. “What is it?”

“We’re planning a little event, see.”

“An event?” Lily asked eagerly. “What kind?”

The three demi-human leaders exchanged glances, and all said in unison, “A night festival!”

“A night festival?” Zenos echoed, cocking his head.

Zophia leaned in. “See, we’ve been talking, and we’re planning to hold a festival in the slums at night. There’ll be stalls, dancing, games with prizes for people who do well, stuff like that. And we want you to participate, doc.”

“Wow! That’s so cool!” Lily exclaimed excitedly. “It sounds like fun!”

“Huh. A festival,” Zenos mused. “I’ve never been to one, but it sounds interesting.” His former party had once come across a festival in a town they’d passed through; he’d seen many stalls, and dressed-up people dancing away happily. The others had told him to watch their belongings, so he’d been the only one who hadn’t participated.

“Another pitiful tale,” Carmilla remarked.

“I’m pretty confident about my pitiful past,” Zenos said.

“I don’t think that’s something to be proud of,” Lily pointed out.

Zenos scratched his cheek awkwardly as he turned to Zophia. “I mean, sure, why not? I’m looking forward to it.”

“Hells yeah!” Zophia exclaimed. “Make sure you come, all right? We’ll let you know when we’ve set the date.”

With that, the three demi-humans left the clinic with a spring in their step.

Carmilla set her teacup down. “A festival in the slums,” she said. “A place once known only for chaos and the stench of death, now hosting such a peaceful event. ’Tis all thanks to you, Zenos.”

“Thanks to me?” he echoed.

“You should come too, Carmilla,” Lily said. “It’s at night, right? So you can come!”

“Hmph! I, the Lich Queen, making merry at a festival?” The wraith cast a sidelong glare at Lily, then slowly stood, rolling up her sleeves with a chuckle. “None can best me at shooting games and scooping goldfish.”

“Yay! I’m so happy!”

“Sounds like we have one eager resident wraith,” Zenos remarked.

And so, in the slums where bloody conflicts had once raged, a peaceful night festival was soon to take place.

***

“Wow! This is amazing!” Lily exclaimed in admiration.

Six days after the festival’s announcement, on a night still warm from the day’s lingering heat, the young elf stepped onto the main street of the slums. The streets’ usual chaotic clutter was gone, replaced by the soft glow of lamps lining the roadside and the soft sounds of flutes and drums, all of which came together to create a magical atmosphere for the festival. The smell of food cooking and the sounds of lively voices rose from the various stalls.

“Festivals are great, aren’t they, Zenos?” Lily asked.

“Yeah, they are,” Zenos agreed with a nod as his gaze shifted to her. “What’s with the outfit, by the way?”

The young elf was dressed in something he’d never seen before—a polka-dotted garment with a collar that crossed at the chest and a red sash wrapped around her waist.

“That, young man, is called a yukata,” Carmilla explained close to Zenos’s ear.

“Ack! You scared the crap out of me!” Zenos yelped at the sudden voice. He couldn’t see the wraith, but she seemed to be following them, keeping her presence concealed.

“A yukata is the traditional attire for festivals in the Eastern nations,” she continued.

“Are you trying to freak me out?” he asked.

Carmilla only chuckled mischievously in response.

Lily looked up at Zenos, seeming apprehensive. “H-How do I look?”

“I think you look cute,” Zenos said, eliciting a bashful chuckle from Lily.

Carmilla, partially visible, said proudly, “Of course. I dressed her up, after all. Her cuteness was a given.”

“Thank you, Carmilla!” Lily exclaimed.

The wraith chuckled eerily. “’Tis my girl power.”

“A three-hundred-year-old is a ‘girl’ now?” Zenos retorted.

As they walked along the street amid the bustling crowd, a large stage built in the center of the festival came into view. Atop it stood the three demi-human leaders.

“Now then, it’s about time for our opening remarks,” Zophia said in a clear voice. “I don’t like long speeches, so I’ll keep it simple. First of all, thank you to everyone who helped make this festival possible, and to all of you who gathered here tonight. A festival in the slums like this was unimaginable during the era of conflict between us demi-humans.” The lizardwoman cast a sentimental look at the lizardmen, werewolves, and orcs gathered before the stage. “And it’s all thanks to one person that we can do this now.”

Her gaze shifted to Zenos, who stood at the far end of the crowd. Zophia, Lynga, and Loewe all beckoned, gesturing widely for him to step forward.

“Doc, we want you to say a few words for the opening,” Zophia said.

“Sir Zenos, you should come to the stage,” Lynga added.

“Indeed. If anyone should make opening remarks, it’s Zenos,” Loewe agreed.

“Huh? Me?” Zenos asked, pointing at himself in shock as people around him began to cheer. “Man... I’m not a big fan of being the center of attention, though...”

“It’s a special occasion,” Lily pointed out. “Maybe you should go.”

With Lily’s encouragement, Zenos walked to the stage with resigned steps. After a grand round of cheering and applause from the attendees, he cleared his throat. “Uhh...” Well. Crap. He hadn’t been expecting this, and so he couldn’t think of anything to say. “Let’s see. Try not to get hurt—” He stopped midsentence, then shook his head slightly. With a deep breath, he continued, “Never mind. I’ll heal any minor injuries, so knock yourselves out!”

The audience erupted into thunderous cheers.

Afterward, Lynga went on to briefly explain the festival. There were games at several booths, and the winner would be decided based on their total score, with the first-place prize being an item of the winner’s choice.

“Have fun, drink, eat!” Loewe said. “Dance the night away. Game to your hearts’ content. Enjoy yourselves however you want!”

With that, the attendees dispersed to do as they pleased, and the first night festival of the slums had officially begun.

“Phew. We managed to get it started,” Zophia said, relieved.

“Now all we can do is pray it all ends smoothly,” Loewe remarked, similarly relieved.

“Hey, Zophia, Loewe,” Lynga interjected. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?” the lizardwoman replied.

“Oh, this must be good,” the orc said.

The werewolf nodded slowly, then said solemnly, “Winners in the games get to pick their prize. How about we make the right to confess to Sir Zenos the prize?” Zophia and Loewe stared wide-eyed at Lynga, who narrowed her gaze. “It’s about time we decide who gets to have Sir Zenos. He would likely not appreciate a series of duels, but he wouldn’t object to us competing at games, right?”

After a moment of silence, Zophia and Loewe spoke up. “Huh. That’s a surprisingly good idea, Lynga,” the lizardwoman said, licking her lips. “Sounds fun. I’m in.”

“Ha!” Loewe then exclaimed, cracking her knuckles. “I’ll show you two what I’m made of.”

“O-Oh no,” stammered Lily, who happened to pass by the stage. “This won’t be easy...” She hurriedly rushed over to Zenos and the translucent Carmilla.

“Well, then,” the healer said with a carefree expression, “let’s just relax and enjoy the night.”

Lily shook her head vigorously. “Sorry, Zenos. I can’t just relax and enjoy myself anymore.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t afford to lose this battle,” she declared. With a deep breath, she crouched down and stalked off, on the prowl for game booths with the stealthy steps of a skilled assassin.

“What even is happening?”

Carmilla chuckled. “I could not say, but I have a feeling this will be great fun.”

Suddenly, the festival’s cheerful atmosphere shifted, and a secret battle between the women ignited quietly.

***

The first stall Zenos’s group and the demi-human leaders went to was an archery booth, manned by lizardmen. Using a small bow and arrow, players aimed at a target, scoring more points the closer the arrow landed to the bull’s-eye. Each player had three shots, and the player with the highest total score won.

“Hey, there,” Zophia said. “Mind if I borrow a bow?”

“You’re playing, boss?” the lizardman at the front asked.

“Yeah. Things happened, and I can’t afford to lose, see.” Deftly, she nocked the arrows, took aim, and released them with precision. All three of the arrows whooshed through the air and struck the center of the target. Her subordinates all cheered loudly at their boss’s incredible display of skill. “Ha! Easy.”

“I won’t lose to the likes of you!” Lynga said with a grunt, stepping forward for her turn. Despite her bravado, however, only two of the arrows hit the center, the third missing the bull’s-eye. The werewolf slumped to her knees in disappointment. “Ugh! I’m just not used to bows! Making a game like this is unfair, Zophia!”

“The booth guys decided what the game would be, not me,” Zophia pointed out. “Besides, archery is a pretty standard festival game, no?”

Loewe laughed heartily as she stepped forward. “That’s too bad, Lynga. My turn.” The bowstring, however, readily snapped under her excessive strength. “Ngh! What the...?!”

“Oh, dear,” Zophia said. “How unfortunate, Loewe. You can’t shoot without a bowstring.”

Lynga snickered. “Loewe gets zero points! Looks like I still have a big lead!”

“What did you say?!” Loewe bellowed in frustration. She grabbed the arrows directly and hurled them at the target. Two of them loudly crashed straight through the bull’s-eye, the impressive feat of strength drawing surprised gasps from the onlookers.

“Hmph. You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that,” Zophia grumbled before posing triumphantly. “But I’m still in the lead!”

“Not so fast,” Lynga interjected, gnashing her teeth. “This fight isn’t over yet.”

“That’s right,” Loewe said, clenching her jaw. “I’ll turn the tables in no time.”

“Why are they all going so hard at it?” asked Zenos, standing behind the trio with his arms crossed.

Carmilla chuckled. “Why indeed, I wonder?”

“M-My turn!” Nervously, Lily stepped forward. However, despite pulling the bowstring with all her might, she couldn’t get the arrow to even reach the target, and her first shot scored no points. She clenched her fists, grumbling in frustration.

“Uh, Lily?” Zenos said. “You know you don’t have to push yourself, right?”

“I can’t afford to lose this battle,” the girl repeated.

“Hello? Are you listening?”

“O heavens, O earth, heed the whispers of the wind... All ye elements of the air...” she chanted under her breath, her words making the air around her swirl slightly.

“Oh? Wind magic?” Carmilla said, grinning wickedly. “Elves are known to possess immense magical powers from birth, after all. Hee hee... Truly this is a heated conflict of clashing skills and pride!”

“This is a festival game, right?” Zenos asked, cocking his head.

As Lily finished casting Gust, her arrows, carried by the wind, hit the bull’s-eye. “Hi-yah!”

“Uh... Lily?”

“Look at that,” Zophia said. “Nice going, Lily.”

“I see,” Lynga mused. “She must’ve overheard us.”

Loewe scoffed. “That makes her our rival, then.”

The three demi-humans and one elf, now the center of attention, strode confidently to the next game booth.

“Sorry, but I’m winning this,” the lizardwoman said.

“Oh, please,” the werewolf retorted. “Sir Zenos clearly would want me to win.”

“Ha!” the orc scoffed. “This is getting interesting!”

“I will put you in your place,” Lily growled.

“Lily, why are you talking like that?” Zenos asked as the others left him and Carmilla behind.

The wraith once again chuckled. “Ah, the fine scent of a rom-com.”

“Am I the only one out of the loop here?”

All four women vying for the right to confess to Zenos arrived at the next booth, manned by the orcs.

“Hey boss. You playing too?” asked the orc at the front.

“I am,” Loewe confirmed as she stepped forward, cracking her neck. “I can’t afford to lose, no matter what.”

Before her was a rock large enough one would need both arms to carry it. Crossing her arms, Zophia looked at the rock and asked, “What’s the orcs’ game, again?”

“Ha! You’ll see,” Loewe replied confidently, cracking her knuckles. “It’s about breaking this rock with as few hand chops as possible.”

“What the—? What kind of game is that?” Zophia said, baffled.

“Who the heck thinks that’s easy?” Lynga asked, astounded.

“Th-That’s...” Lily stammered, confounded.

“Oh? You guys can’t do this much?” Loewe asked casually. “It’s one of the fundamentals of maidenhood.”

“What the hells kind of maiden smashes a rock?!” Zophia interjected.

Slowly, Loewe raised her right hand, and with a loud shout, brought it down in a swift chop. Her hand crashed loudly against the rock, shattering it into pieces. “Ha ha ha! Behold, true girl power!”