The Brilliant Healer's New Life in the Shadows: Volume 7 E-Book

Sakaku Hishikawa

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: The Brilliant Healer's New Life in the Shadows
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 237

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

With the crisis in Zagras averted and the S Rank beast defeated, Zenos returns to his life in the slums, juggling his duties at the clinic while occasionally teaching at St. Carmilla Academy. Still, these peaceful days don’t last for long. All of a sudden, a group of oddly desperate military officers pop up in Zenos’s part of town, running a mass recruitment drive to build out the nation’s border patrol. It seems they’ll conscript anyone—even children.
Around the same time, Lily goes missing. And when witnesses report seeing her forced inside a military convoy alongside a child in fancy clothing, Zenos knows what he’s got to do next—get recruited himself!
It seems once again, life is about to take an unorthodox turn.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Prologue

Chapter 1: Conscription Commotion

Chapter 2: The Western Defensive Line

Chapter 3: Savior of the Front Lines

Chapter 4: Counterattack and a Change in Personnel

Chapter 5: The Flare Maiden’s Resolve

Chapter 6: Hostage Rescue

Chapter 7: A Lesson in Pain

Epilogue I

Epilogue II

Side Story: The Night Before Departure

Afterword

Color Illustrations

About J-Novel Club

Copyright

Landmarks

Table of Contents

Color Illustrations

Prologue

The Kingdom of Herzeth, known across the continent as the Kingdom of the Sun, bordered four other nations. While it maintained friendly relations with some, with others it coexisted in a tense state of rivalry. One such rival was the Malavaar Empire to the northwest—a rising autocratic state ruled by an emperor. Recently, it had been steadily absorbing neighboring countries as vassal states.

Ignoring its expanding influence was not an option. Both Herzeth and Malavaar had built numerous fortresses along their borders where large military forces had been stationed in a mutual show of intimidation. Skirmishes persisted along the northern front lines, and the situation had long been locked in a stalemate.

But the winds of change were blowing—far from the main battlefield.

One day at dawn, in a border region located below Malavaar’s southernmost edge known as the Western Defensive Line, a sentry stretched and yawned.

“Man, I’m sleepy,” he mumbled.

The soldier beside him sighed, clearly disapproving of his comrade’s attitude. “Hey. Stay alert.”

“Huh? Aw, come on. Who cares? We’re not on the northern front. This outpost is practically for show.”

“I mean, true, but...still!”

Beyond this area lay the Yanul Marshlands, a region teeming with magical beasts. The marshlands were considered too dangerous to be claimed by any nation, and thus the likelihood of enemy forces advancing through them was slim to none. As such, the primary duty of the soldiers stationed here was dealing with stray magical beasts.

“If you keep slacking off, the commander’s gonna chew you out,” the other soldier cautioned.

“Right, the Flare Maiden or whatever. I hear she was a big shot over at the northern front. How did she end up in the middle of nowhere like this?”

“How is a grunt like me supposed to know that?”

“Well, anyhow, there’s no way Herzeth is gonna lose the war, long as we’ve got the saintess’s blessing and all. Hey, you got a smoke?”

“Ugh. Just one, all right?” the second soldier muttered with a shrug before pulling a cigarette from his pocket.

As the pair smoked in the light of the new dawn, one of them suddenly furrowed his brow.

“Hm...?”

“What? What is it?”

“That...”

The two soldiers turned their gaze to the distance, where faint wisps of smoke were rising from the sparsely wooded plain. Or was it just morning mist?

“What...is that?”

At the same time, a faint vibration rumbled underfoot. It was like an irregular heartbeat, pulsing unevenly, and seemed to be growing more intense.

One of the soldiers peered through the magical telescope hanging from his neck and told the other in a trembling voice, “Report this to the commander immediately.”

What cloaked the distant sky was not mist—it was dust. And within that dust, countless twisted silhouettes squirmed and writhed.

The soldier stumbled backward, shouting at the top of his lungs, “It’s a beast horde!”

***

“What’s the situation?”

It was evening, and an emergency Council of the Seven was being held in the royal capital. Six of the nation’s most influential nobles were seated around a magnificent, gleaming round table made of marble.

“The report states that approximately two hundred magical beasts, primarily smaller variants, have been sighted,” a military officer reported in a hurried tone.

A stern-looking man with narrow eyes asked, “Where’s Lord Vamillus?”

“He hasn’t returned from his diplomatic tour yet,” replied a government official standing in the corner of the room, his tone apologetic.

The narrow-eyed man scoffed. “A diplomatic tour? A self-indulgent vacation, more like.”

“Lord Giesz, we must focus on the matter at hand for now,” gently interjected Lord Fennel, who was known to be a moderate. “So, what happened to the two hundred beasts?”

“Under the guidance of their commander, the soldiers managed to drive back the magical beasts by evening,” the military officer replied. “However, because the Western Defensive Line is sparsely manned, the damage was significant. Furthermore, a new wave attacked the following day. The soldiers stationed at the fortress are being pushed to their limits day and night.”

Lord Fennel hummed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “So the Flare Maiden managed to hold the line. Truly she is a capable woman. Still, we must act swiftly.”

It was no surprise that magical beasts had emerged from the Yanul Marshlands. The area, located near the border between Herzeth and southern Malavaar, was a known breeding ground for such creatures. Still, something felt off.

“Does this sort of thing happen often?” Lord Fennel asked.

“No, my lord. Stray beasts occasionally wander into our territory, but they’re usually alone or in small groups at most. A group of this size is unprecedented.”

“Do we know the cause?”

“We’re still investigating.”

“Let us hope this is an isolated incident, then.”

“I would caution against blithe optimism, Lord Fennel,” said Albert Baycladd, the handsome young man who was heir to the prestigious House Baycladd, foremost of the seven great noble houses. As he uncrossed his long legs, his sharp gaze swept over the room. “Rot could strike from anywhere, at any time.”

“Rot,” Lord Fennel echoed. “Are you referring to the saintess’s prophecy?”

The month prior, a prophetic warning of “most severe rot” looming over the horizon had been delivered to the Council of the Seven. In the past, prophecies regarding severe rot had foretold devastating pandemics and natural disasters. “Most” severe rot went beyond that and had the potential to threaten the very survival of the nation.

After the initial prophecy, a catastrophe-level S Rank magical beast had appeared in the Zagras region. The beast, thought to be the source of the prophesied threat, had been defeated by a Black Class adventurer known as the Sword Saint. Yet the ominous star that heralded incoming calamity still shone eerily in the sky.

“Could this unyielding evil star represent the Malavaar Empire?” asked one of the nobles at the table in a grave tone.

The Malavaar Empire’s influence was expanding rapidly, and pressure along the northern front grew with each passing day. Still, the magical beasts had emerged away from the empire’s southernmost border, making it difficult to draw any definitive conclusions.

“We cannot say for certain. Without solid evidence, pointing fingers would be reckless. A poorly thought out accusation could stoke the flames of a much larger conflict.” Silence briefly fell upon the room. Albert’s sharp gaze turned to Lord Giesz, whose narrow eyes and features were reminiscent of those of a cunning bird. “What would you propose we do, Lord Giesz?”

Lord Giesz crossed his arms, his expression remaining the same as he spoke. “I have already arranged for reinforcements.”

“Acting promptly as always. Commendable,” Albert replied. “But allocating military strength takes a careful hand under the current circumstances.”

“Hmph. You don’t need to tell me that,” Lord Giesz scoffed, his brows furrowing slightly.

The northern front lines were the most volatile point between Herzeth and Malavaar, locked in a precarious standoff. With both main forces entrenched there, glaring at each other, diverting troops to another battlefield was a risky gamble indeed.

“The main forces stationed on the northern front cannot be moved,” Lord Giesz said. “Reinforcements will be dispatched from the royal capital.”

“You’re sending out the capital’s defense forces?” Albert asked. “Will they be able to handle such an unexpected crisis?”

“That’s why we’ll be reinforcing our shields.”

“Shields?”

“The poor,” Lord Giesz said flatly, as though stating the obvious.

It was common knowledge that a significant number of poor folk were being sent to guard various frontiers, paid in meager meals and pittances for wages. One of their primary roles on the front lines was to act as a buffer during enemy attacks.

“Ah. The poor,” Albert echoed.

“Yes. If nothing else, they must serve as shields. That’s the only reason we allow those vermin to live in the shadows of the royal capital in the first place.”

“Vermin, you say...”

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” Albert smiled faintly, resting a hand against his cheek. “I expect great things.”

“My army will deliver results regardless of your expectations,” Lord Giesz retorted with a frown.

“Your army, is it?”

“Do you object? Military affairs are under my jurisdiction presently.”

Each of the seven great noble houses oversaw different aspects of the kingdom, politics, the military, diplomacy, and trade among them. To prevent the concentration of power, these responsibilities were rotated every few years. Currently, House Giesz held control over the kingdom’s military forces.

“Ah, no, I have no objections. My expectations lie elsewhere,” Albert muttered softly, his smile remaining unchanged as he gazed out the window at the clear blue sky.

Chapter One: Conscription Commotion

“All right, everyone! Are you ready?” the elf girl Lily asked.

“Yes, Miss Lily!”

“Always!”

“I’m so excited!”

After the children’s energetic replies, Lily continued, “Okay, we have three rules! One, let’s all behave. Two, we can’t ru— Hey! Oh, they’re already running!”

Lily clutched her head in exasperation as she watched the children scatter at full speed in every direction.

They were at the black market on the outskirts of the slums—a chaotic trading hub vital to the residents of the area. Food, daily necessities, clothing, entertainment goods, and everything in between, from simple junk to hidden treasures, could be found here. As for the children, they were students from St. Carmilla Academy, a school built for the poor, on a field trip meant to put their arithmetic lessons into practice through shopping.

“I can’t even finish saying the rules... They don’t respect my authority at all...” Lily muttered dejectedly.

“Well, it’s a good thing for kids to have that much energy. My mentor used to say that a place full of bright kids is a good place indeed,” said Zenos, a shadow healer and one of the founders of the school.

Since the other teacher—Zonde, a lizardman—was absent, Zenos had closed his clandestine clinic for the morning to accompany Lily and the children. It was late summer, and the harsh sunlight had softened somewhat. Zenos’s well-worn pitch-black cloak fluttered in the breeze as usual.

Lily sighed and looked up at him. “Were you like that when you were little, Zenos?”

“During my time with my mentor, probably, yeah,” he replied.

“And the rest of the time?”

“Back in the orphanage, if we ever said anything other than ‘yes, sir’ or ‘yes, ma’am,’ we’d get a lashing or a smacking. Everyone was silent as the grave.”

“That...doesn’t sound healthy at all,” Lily remarked before turning her attention back to the children running around the market. “Does everyone remember what they need to buy? It’s stationery and snacks! Don’t forget to calculate your change!”

A chorus of cheerful cries of “Yes, Miss Lily!” echoed from all over.

“Your story made me realize kids don’t always have to follow the rules perfectly,” Lily said. “I’m teaching them right!”

“Yeah,” Zenos agreed. He scratched his head as he watched the children, now split into small groups, merrily browsing the various goods. “But you know, I feel bad for you, Lily.”

“Huh? How come?” Lily tilted her head in confusion.

Zenos gave her a small smile. “I mean, don’t you want to play and have fun with kids your age? Instead, here you are, acting as their teacher on my request.”

Lily worked as both a receptionist and nurse at Zenos’s clinic as well as a teacher alongside Zonde at St. Carmilla. The bright young elf had gotten basic education from Ilya, a student at the aristocratic Ledelucia Academy—and she’d learned quickly. Since Zenos was often busy with the clinic, he couldn’t always be present at the school, so Lily had been the perfect fit for the teaching role.

“And as their teacher, you can’t really play with them as peers, huh?” Zenos asked. His own childhood had been horribly harsh, but he’d at least had the other orphans. Now that he thought about it, Lily didn’t have that kind of companionship.

“Hmm.” Lily paused for a moment, bringing a finger to her chin in thought, before smiling brightly. “Well, having friends my age would probably be fun, but just being with you and everyone else makes me really happy already! I’m content, really!”

“Yeah?” Zenos smiled and nodded. “Well, I’m grateful for you.”

Last month, he’d been pulled into an unexpected adventure in the remote region of Zagras. During his absence, Lily and the leaders of the demi-human clans had done a great job of keeping things running.

Lily stretched happily, her face beaming with pride. “Hee hee! Feel free to shower me with head pats!”

“I feel like I did that already when I came back.”

“Yeah, but I deserve constant head pats, you know.”

“Really, now? All right. Fair.” He gently patted her head.

Lily’s expression softened into a content smile. “Eh heh heh!”

“Hey! Miss Lily is getting head pats from Dr. Zenos!”

“No fair! I want some too!”

“Me too!”

As the children began gathering around, Lily turned to them with a stern expression. “Nuh-uh! Zenos’s head pats are just for me!”

“And now she sounds authoritarian all of a sudden,” Zenos muttered.

The lively outdoor class soon came to an end, and the group began their journey back.

“Shopping was so much fun!” a child remarked.

“Yes, but remember, this was meant to be a learning experience,” Lily pointed out. “Did everyone do their calculations right?”

“Yes, Miss Lily!” the children replied energetically.

Lily watched them with a smile for a moment before suddenly exclaiming, “Oh no!”

“What’s the matter, Lily?” Zenos asked.

“I totally forgot! I have some shopping to do too! We need groceries for dinner tonight!”

“Should we all head back to the market?”

“No, no, it’ll be total chaos if we bring the children. Zenos, can you take everyone back for now? I’ll just run right over and grab what I need.”

“All right. Be careful.”

“Don’t worry! I’ll be quick. See you soon!” Lily waved at Zenos, then dashed off into the market.

He watched her small figure disappear around a corner before turning and leading the children back along the road to the school in the slums.

A girl tugged on Zenos’s sleeve. “Um, doctor? I liked shopping, but what I really liked was that lesson with the map.”

“The map?” he echoed. “Oh, you mean geography?”

“The world’s so big! I had no idea.”

“It really is...”

Many in the slums spent their entire lives without ever getting the chance to see anything beyond their immediate surroundings. Had Zenos not met his mentor or chanced into an adventuring party, he might’ve thought that cramped, cold orphanage was all there was.

“There’s stuff outside the slums and even further away, like other countries. It kinda made my head spin...”

“I wanna visit all the countries!”

“Me too!”

As the children chatted excitedly, another student spoke up. “But we can only go to friendly countries, right? There was this one country, um, the Malu... Mala...”

“The Malavaar Empire,” Zenos said as they walked.

Herzeth bordered four other countries, but tensions were particularly high with the Malavaar Empire to the northwest, with frequent skirmishes along the border.

“Doctor, what kinda place is the Malavaar Empire?”

“I’ve never been,” Zenos explained, “so I don’t actually know.”

“Wow! There’s stuff you don’t know?”

“Oh, yeah. There’s lots of stuff I don’t know.”

The student hummed pensively. “I think the countries should stop fighting.”

“There are probably complicated reasons why they can’t stop.”

“How come?” the girl asked, tilting her head in innocent puzzlement. “Can’t they just apologize? Being friends is a lot more fun than being enemies!”

“You’re absolutely right,” Zenos conceded.

People of the slums were of various races. Not long ago, the area had been plagued by violent and bloody conflicts between the different demographics, but now these diverse children walked side by side, hand in hand. Generations changed, and ushered with them new eras. The future would always be built by children—and the fact they had begun to take an interest in the outside world could only be a good sign.

Currently, the children attended class about once a week. However, Zenos wanted to increase the frequency of their lessons as they grew used to studying—though whether he could would depend on whether it was possible for him to balance that with his workload at the clinic.

As they continued walking through the slums, they came across a crowd gathering at the end of the street.

“What’s going on?” Zenos asked, approaching the commotion.

People were gathered around a wooden notice board. Written on it in bold red letters were the words: “Mass Recruitment of Border Patrol Officers.” Below it, additional information stated that the work was paid and that meals would be provided thrice daily, along with the time and location for applicants to assemble.

“Border patrol officers?” a child said. “Doctor, what does that mean?”

The children had become fairly skilled at reading already, but still struggled to grasp the meaning behind the words.

“They’re recruiting soldiers to help protect the country,” Zenos explained.

“Wow! Really? That sounds kinda cool!”

“You even get food and money!”

“That’s awesome! Hey, can we join too?”

A girl stepped between the excited boys, her expression stern. “It’s not cool at all! My dad left for something like this, and...he never came back...”

“What?”

The boys fell silent, their earlier excitement replaced by wide-eyed disbelief.

“Protecting the country means facing danger when an enemy arrives,” Zenos explained softly, his gaze fixed on the sign. “It’s not as simple as it sounds.”

The children remained mute, exchanging uneasy glances.

“Still, something’s bugging me...”

Zenos knew that this type of recruitment drive happened occasionally, and that some of the poor, urged by hunger, would volunteer as border guards. But something about this felt off. A “mass” recruitment was unusual. Had something happened?

“Listen up, you filthy slum rats!” came a booming voice from down the street.

Turning toward the source, Zenos and the children saw a middle-aged man holding a magical loudspeaker. The man, who was quite stout and broad, haughtily glared down at the residents of the slums. He wore golden armor bearing the symbol of a burning sun—most likely a military emblem of some sort. Behind him stood about fifty armed soldiers, standing in formation.

“I am Higarth, a senior officer of the military. You lot probably can’t even read the sign correctly, so I came here myself to explain it to you. Our kingdom is in need of new guards at the border. You are to volunteer immediately. Am I clear, you useless dimwits?” After delivering his condescending speech, he muttered under his breath, “Why do I have to come to this filthy place?”

A subordinate standing behind him leaned in and whispered, “General, sir. This is a direct request from Lord Giesz of the seven great noble houses. He believed your presence would improve morale...”

Higarth scoffed. “Hmph. I suppose I cannot refuse a request from Lord Giesz himself.”

“The more shields the better, sir.”

“I know that.”

Thanks to an auditory enhancement spell, Zenos managed to catch snippets of the hushed exchange. Shields? he thought to himself, furrowing his brows.

Puffing out his chest, Higarth lifted the magical loudspeaker to his mouth once more. When he spoke next, it was with an overwhelming aura of superiority. “I am a general of this kingdom, yet here I am, having personally come to this filthy dump. Normally, lowly mongrels like you would never even lay eyes upon someone of such an esteemed rank. Be grateful. Now, rats, line up and enlist!”

Most of the slum residents, however, simply glanced at him as though he were an annoyance and walked away, not paying him much mind. In the area around Zenos’s clinic especially, new industries had begun to sprout, and it was likely there were now fewer people desperate enough to risk their lives just to ensure tomorrow’s meal.

“Hey! Are you listening?! Can you scum not even understand simple words?!” Frustrated, Higarth wiped the sweat off his greasy forehead and glared sharply at the children. “You there! Brats! I shall grant you the honor of guarding our borders! Come here!”

“General, they’re just children,” the soldier pointed out.

“It doesn’t matter,” Higarth retorted. “A shield is a shield.”

The men motioned for the children to approach, but the students, scared stiff, remained frozen in place.

Higarth let out an exaggerated snort of disdain. “Ugh, how droll. Seize them and bring them along.”

“Yes, sir.”

The soldiers behind him began to advance in unison, making the children yelp with fear.

“Hey. Hold up a second,” said the shadow healer in his flowing black cloak as he stepped in front of the pale-faced children. “Why are you strong-arming a bunch of kids?”

“And who are you supposed to be?” Higarth asked, furrowing his brows as he stepped closer.

“I’m their guardian. I can’t let you do whatever you please.”

“Step aside. That’s an order.”

“I don’t work for you, so I don’t have to listen to a word you say.”

“What was that? A filthy rat dares talk back to me? You insolent fool!” Higarth snarled. He drew his sword and slashed without hesitation.

A sharp metallic clang rang out, and the general smirked—only for Zenos to calmly lower his right arm, which he’d lifted to guard himself.

“Are all soldiers this bad at listening to reason?”

“What? How are you unscathed? I know I struck you!”

Zenos felt no need to explain that he’d used protective magic—after all, Higarth didn’t seem willing to entertain the words of a poor slum dweller. It had been a while since Zenos had last encountered such a blatant bigot, but perhaps this was simply the norm in Herzeth?

“Anyway, we’ll be going now. Come on, guys.”

“Okay!” the children replied in unison.

“Stop right there!” Higarth demanded, furious.

Enhance Skill.

A blue light enveloped Zenos’s hand as he thrust his fist toward Higarth’s face.

“Eek!” the general yelped, flinching as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Sir!” the soldiers shouted in alarm.

But the punch stopped just short of Higarth’s nose. Zenos slowly opened his fingers, revealing a tiny beetle on his palm; its back bore a skull-like pattern.

“This is a purple skull beetle,” Zenos explained. “If someone with no tolerance gets stung, they’ll suffer unbearable itching and pain for a whole day. It almost got you.”

“Y-You little—”

“You should be thanking me, actually.”

“Doc!” came a sharp voice.

Zenos looked around to find a large crowd surrounding the agitated Higarth. It was made up of lizardmen, werewolves, and orcs, the three dominant species of the slums. At the forefront of each group—all well over a hundred fierce men and women strong—stood their respective leaders, glaring menacingly at the soldiers: Zophia, Lynga, and Loewe.

“Wh-Who are you people?!” the general demanded.

“Who are we?” Lynga echoed nonchalantly, a small smirk on her lips. “Oh, just a group of people out for a stroll.”

“N-Nonsense! You cannot expect me to believe this intimidating crowd is out for a stroll!”

“Ah, what can I say?” Loewe said with a grin. “We’re all just really good pals here.”

The demi-humans’ oppressive aura forced the soldiers to take a step back.

“This is no place for a fancy official like you. Why are you here? Looking to catch some deadly disease, maybe?” Zophia asked sharply.

“Wh-What?!” Higarth flinched and glanced at his subordinates before clearing his throat. “I-I seem to recall I have some urgent business to attend to, but mark my words! You’ll pay for this!”

With that, Higarth huffed and puffed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead and marched off with his troops, disappearing down the street.

Zophia quickly approached Zenos. “You good, doc? I heard there might be trouble, so I hurried on over with my guys.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for coming over, especially since the kids are here too.” Zenos turned his gaze to the recruitment notice. “Why would military officers personally come over to draft residents of the slums, though?”

And the fact that Higarth—a general, no less—had blatantly attempted to conscript young children indicated something was definitely going on.

“Lynga caught wind of something happening near the western border,” Zophia said warily.

“The western border...”

Lynga’s underground casino attracted people from all walks of life, who brought with them all kinds of information. This made it a prime spot for gleaning the latest rumors, including those about national affairs.

“So that’s why they want more troops,” Zenos mused.

What was nagging at the back of his mind, however, was the way Higarth had used the word “shield.” This was being framed as border patrol recruitment, but it was unlikely that the poor would truly be enlisted as proper soldiers.

Zenos cast a quiet, concerned glance down the road leading back toward the black market before turning back to Zophia and the others. “Can you guys look after the kids? I’m gonna go find Lily.”

***

Meanwhile, at the market, Lily was busy buying vegetables for the night’s dinner: red yams, blue carrots, and yellow cabbage. Their shapes were irregular, but they brimmed with freshness.

“Thanks as always, Lily,” the shopkeeper said. “Our veggies may look a bit rough, but I promise they taste amazin’.”

“Oh, I know! The veggies here are always super sweet.”

The shopkeeper let out a bright laugh and slipped a ripe, brilliantly red apple into Lily’s bag. “Smart shopper! Here, a little gift for you.”

“Wow! Thank you!”

“Dr. Zenos is real good to us. Tell him I said hi, yeah?”

“Sure! I’ll let him know!”

Beaming, Lily turned on her heel, shopping bag in hand, and started heading back. That was when she noticed someone loitering in one of the market’s alleys. A child—but one with a distinctly different aura from the other kids in the slums.

So pretty, she thought. But judging by the shirt, trousers, and the sword strapped at his waist, the child seemed to be a boy. With soft, wavy dark-gray hair, long lashes, and refined, picture-perfect features, the boy had an air of elegance that was unusual around here. His eyes, dark like black quartz, darted from side to side as he aimlessly wandered down the narrow path.

“Hey,” Lily called out, approaching the boy.

“Huh?” He turned to face her, his expression unchanged. It was hard to be certain, but he seemed to be around Lily’s age, albeit slightly taller than her. In contrast with his refined appearance, his tone was blunt. “Do you need something from me?”

Lily’s gaze shifted to his right hand. “Um, you might want to hide that bracelet.”

“Why?”

“Well, it looks really expensive...”

The bracelet wrapped around the boy’s right wrist gleamed a golden hue and was adorned with beautiful stones that looked like precious gems. While the area had definitely grown safer since the establishment of Zenos’s clinic and the end of the conflict among the three demi-human factions, a lone child wearing such an expensive accessory was still undeniably in danger.

But the boy seemed unfazed by Lily’s concern. “Hmph. And why should I listen to a word you say?”

“Um...are you by yourself? Where are your parents?”

“My parents don’t care about me.”

“Do you have friends with you?”

“I don’t have any friends at all.”

“Oh...” What should I do?

Judging by the boy’s appearance, he didn’t seem to be from the slums. Letting him wander around the market all by himself was a terrible idea.

“Where do you live? I can walk you home,” Lily offered.

“I’m not going back home,” he retorted.

“Huh?” A runaway kid, then. That was certainly a problem. With no better options, Lily decided to take him to the clinic. “Do you want to come to my home?”

“Why would I?”

“Well, I don’t really have many friends my age either. We could hang out!”