Book 2, Chapter 8

Lily stood over Aziza’s still form, her mind reeling from the view of the parasitic invasion that ravaged her body. The image of countless alien creatures, their transparent bodies pulsating with malevolent life, lingered in her thoughts like a nightmare made manifest. She could almost feel their hooked mouthparts tearing at healthy tissue, their segmented forms undulating through veins and organs, leaving destruction in their wake.

This won’t be easy at all, Lily thought to herself, her brow furrowed with concentration. She recalled her first use of Lesser Mandala of Eradication, how the flare of Death Magic that should have obliterated the bacteria and the viruses had barely made a dent in the parasitic horde. The realization settled heavily in her gut.

They must have come from the Undead, Lily reasoned. Aziza’s battle against the necromantic horrors had left her with more than just physical scars; it had seeded her body with a living nightmare.

Hebet’s voice cut through Lily’s contemplation, laced with concern. “So, what’s going on?”

Lily turned to face the dancer, her expression grave. “This disease is very strong,” she admitted, choosing her words carefully. “I need a moment to think.”

Hebet’s face fell, the hope that had flickered in her eyes dimming. But she nodded, stepping back to give Lily the space she needed.

Lily’s hand drifted to her armor, the cold metal a grounding presence against her palm. She closed her eyes, her mind grappling with the enormity of the task before her. Killing all the parasites at once was not just impractical but borderline impossible. Even if she managed to do so, the collateral damage to Aziza’s body would be catastrophic. The sheer number of parasites meant that eradicating them would riddle Aziza’s arteries, capillaries, and nerves with countless holes, a death sentence in itself.

I can’t just bulldoze my way through this, Lily acknowledged grimly. Her current skills, strong as they were, were ill-suited for such a delicate operation. She needed a new approach to target the parasites with surgical precision while leaving Aziza’s body unharmed.

And so, she turned to a skill she hadn't used since that fateful night when she had to heal Hadrian.

Divine Geometry, she thought, her heart quickening.

By restructuring the Lesser Mandala of Eradication and infusing it with the knowledge and intent she required, she could create a spell tailored to her needs—a pattern of destruction that would seek out and annihilate the parasites while preserving the delicate structures of Aziza’s body.

However, as the plan took shape in her mind, a realization struck Lily – a problem that threatened to unravel her nascent solution.

...

Lily turned to Hebet, her decision made. “I’ll need a Healer,” she said, her voice firm with resolve. “Can you fetch one?”

Hebet’s gaze flickered between Aziza’s still form and Lily's, uncertainty etched in the lines of her face. With a sigh, she asked, “Why do you need a Healer? Aren’t you able to cure disease? Senuy is vouching for you, girl.”

Lily met Hebet’s skepticism head-on. “Because I need to physically destroy what’s wrong with Aziza for her to regain her senses. I coulddestroy the disease on my own after some preparation, but that would also ensure that she would die miserably.”

Hebet’s frown deepened, confusion clouding her features. “I don’t understand.”

Lily exhaled, gathering her thoughts. “Okay,” she began, her tone taking on the cadence of a teacher. “Let me explain in simple terms. What Aziza is suffering from needs to be excised. I don’t practice Light Magic, and that’s why I can help her out with the disease. A Light Magic Healer can’t destroy this disease alone. In fact, I would argue that a Light Magic Healer can only make this worse, much worse than normal diseases.”

She paused, letting the gravity of her words sink in before continuing. “However, while I can take care of the disease, I won't be able to take care of the damage my magic will leave behind. That's why I need you to fetch me a Healer. And you must get a good one since Aziza is high level. Weak Healers won’t have enough Mana to take care of the injuries.”

Hebet’s eyebrow arched with a flicker of intrigue in her gaze. “You seem to know a lot about healing,” she remarked, her tone carrying a note of appraisal.

“I do,” Lily confirmed, her attention already shifting back to Aziza. She scanned the room, her eyes settling on a side chamber adjoining the bedroom. “I need some privacy,” she told Hebet, her voice brooking no argument. “Come find me once you have a Healer.”

As Hebet departed, Lily moved into the side room, her mind already racing with the preparations she would need to make. The space was sparse but functional, offering a measure of seclusion from the main bedroom. Lily settled herself on the floor, crossing her legs and closing her eyes.

In the quiet seclusion of the side room, Lily focused.

[Meditation]

She entered the Second World of the Soul, the vast shallow ocean, and started thinking the problem through while the waves gently caressed her legs.

She looked at her hands, infusing them temporarily with Death Touch while still inside her soul. The familiar embrace of Death Magic enveloped her, its dark tendrils curling around her thoughts like wisps of smoke. She then called upon Divine Geometry, guiding her hands as she began to shape the very fabric of magic itself.

Lily’s fingers moved with practiced precision, tracing intricate patterns in the air before her. Filaments of Death Magic materialized, dark as the void yet pulsing with a strange, otherworldly energy. They danced between her fingertips, responding to her will as she wove them into a complex Mandala, much more complex than the one she had previously weaved into the Lesser Mandala of Eradication.

In her mind’s eye, the image of the parasites that plagued Aziza’s body took shape, their alien forms etched in vivid detail. She focused on their transparent bodies, their hooked mouthparts, and their whip-like tails, committing every aspect of their biology to memory. This knowledge would be the foundation upon which she built her Mandala.

She infused it with the same knowledge of bacteria and viruses she had used several years prior, but this time, she also added a third component that would seek out the Mana signature of the infesting bodies and create minuscule pockets of Death Magic to obliterate them completely.

For a moment, she even considered using Inferior Mandala of the Black Rain in conjunction, but she knew that that would be too much. The damage would be overwhelming, even though it would be extremely effective in clearing out the parasites.

So, Lily’s brow furrowed with concentration as she began to restructure the Lesser Mandala of Eradication, infusing it with new purpose and intent. She recalled the intricate designs she had crafted in the past – the delicate lotus flower of the Lesser Mandala of Medicine and the ominous dark orchid of the Lesser Mandala of Eradication. But this new creation would surpass them both in complexity and precision.

The new Mandala took shape before her – a web of dark filaments that pulsed with malevolent energy. As she had planned, she envisioned the Mandala seeking out the invaders, its tendrils of Death Magic penetrating every organ, every vein, and every capillary, leaving no hiding place untouched.

But Lily knew that raw destruction alone would not suffice. She needed to preserve the delicate balance of Aziza’s body to ensure that the cure did not become worse than the disease itself. With meticulous care, she wove threads of restraint into the Mandala, limiting its reach to the parasites alone based on their Mana differences. She imagined the dark filaments passing harmlessly through healthy tissue, with their deadly touch reserved only for the alien invaders.

She smiled.

This was the first time in her life in this world that she had the occasion to influence her healing skills with knowledge from this world and not from Earth. For the first time, she used her magic knowledge, not just biology. And so, her most potent spell yet was about to be born.

Time lost all meaning as Lily worked, her focus absolute. The Mandala grew in complexity, a dark lotus with twelve petals blossoming before her.

Finally, as the last filament fell into place, Lily opened her eyes. A new Mandala hovered before her with a dark and terrible beauty. She could feel its power thrumming through her very being.

With a final, reverent gesture, Lily drew the Mandala into herself, feeling it settle within her veins like a dark and deadly seed. She rose to her feet, her body humming with barely contained energy.

[Ding! Skill - Divine Geometry level 9!]

[Ding! Skill - Divine Geometry level 10!]

[Ding! Skill - Divine Geometry level 11!]

[Ding! Skill - Divine Geometry level 12!]

[Ding! Skill - Divine Geometry level 13!]

[Ding! Adjunct Skill - {Master} Lesser Mandala of Eradication evolved into Adjunct Skill - {Master} Mandala of Ravenous Eradication!]

...

Hebet navigated the winding alleys of Amunara, her steps swift and purposeful. The further she ventured from the opulent districts, the more the city’s underbelly revealed itself. The air grew thick with the stench of disease and despair – a miasma that clung to the skin and seeped into the soul.

“I swear, why do you always have to hang around these places?” Hebet muttered under her breath, her voice tinged with frustration and concern.

The alley she found herself in was a crucible of misery. The walls, once a vibrant ochre, were now stained with grime and neglect. The ground was littered with the detritus of shattered lives - tattered rags, broken pottery, and the occasional glint of broken glass. The homeless huddled in doorways, their gaunt faces etched with the lines of suffering. The sick lay on makeshift pallets, their bodies wracked by the same disease that had ravaged Senuy.

Amidst this sea of despair, a figure in a black hood moved with purpose, tending to the afflicted with gentle hands and whispered words of comfort. Hebet’s eyes locked onto this beacon of hope, and she let out a sigh of relief.

She approached cautiously, waiting patiently as the hooded figure administered a potion to a sickly man. The figure’s movements were precise, almost ritualistic.

As the man’s labored breathing eased, the hooded figure straightened and nodded towards a side building. Hebet followed without hesitation.

They entered a room that was a study in austerity.

“I don’t know why you live like this,” Hebet said, her voice soft with concern.

Her gaze drifted to the tag floating above the figure’s head: [Healer - Level 122].

“I serve the sick,” the figure replied, her voice a melodic contrast to the harshness of their surroundings. She lowered her hood, revealing a face of ethereal beauty framed by cascading red hair. Her features were delicate, almost princess-like – a stark juxtaposition to the grit and grime of the alley.

“Is your mother still hunting you down?” Hebet asked, her tone laced with worry.

“Why are you here, Hebet? I’m not coming with you. I said the same to my mother. I’m in the service of those who need it—I don’t give public performances of healing to appease the population,” she responded, her voice firm yet tinged with weariness.

“Nutitari,” Hebet whispered her name like a prayer, “I need you to help me with Aziza. I was just asking about your well-being. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s up to you.”

“I’ve tried all I could with Aziza,” Nutitari said, regret heavy in her words. “I can’t help her. And no, my mother is still trying to get me back to the temple and serve her.”

“I found someone who claims they can cure Aziza,” Hebet pressed on, desperation creeping into her voice. “They cured Senuy of his disease. I saw him with my own eyes. It’s... this girl, whatever. Listen, she says she can help, that she can... ‘excise the disease,’ but that she needs a Healer; otherwise, Aziza will die. And she said to fetch a high-level Healer. You’re the strongest Healer in the city after your mother, so...”

“They said what?” Nutitari frowned, confusion etched into her delicate features. “Why would they need a Healer?”

“She said that whatever she is going to do is going to damage Aziza’s body. I don’t know what that means, okay? I’m not a damn [Healer]!” Hebet’s frustration boiled over, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Scorching sands, can you just come with me? Or are you going to let one of the two friends you have left die like a dog? Aziza doesn’t have much time left.”

Nutitari hesitated. Finally, she nodded, resolve settling over her features. “I’ll come, Hebet. But I’m not going to stay. Even if Aziza recovers, I’m not going on her expeditions anymore. Do you understand?”

Hebet nodded, a mixture of relief and regret playing across her face. “I know, I know. I just want you to save Aziza’s life.”

“From what you say,” Nutitari replied, her voice thoughtful, “it sounds like it won’t be me doing the saving.”

They made their way back out into the alley. As they emerged from the side building, Hebet’s sharp eyes caught the movement of a child from the slums, its curious gaze fixed upon them. With a wave of her hand and a stern look, she shooed him away and the kid ran at breakneck speed into an alley.

...

As Nutitari stepped into the room, her gaze immediately fell upon Aziza’s still form, worry painted all over her face. The warrior was reduced to a pale shadow.

Nutitari’s attention shifted to the figure beside the bed – a tall, young-looking girl with an air of quiet determination about her. Frowning, Nutitari’s eyes darted to the tag above the girl’s head, and what she saw made her eyes widen in disbelief.

[Alchemist - Level 34]

How?! The Lost Class!!! Nutitari’s thoughts raced, a whirlwind of shock and confusion. Not even my mother knows of it! How did this young girl stumble upon it?!

Before she could voice her astonishment, the blonde girl rose to her feet, the difference in their heights causing Nutitari to crane her neck. The girl’s serious expression was matched by the aura of power that seemed to radiate from her very being. Nutitari’s gaze was drawn to the girl’s armor, adorned with intricate red flowers that seemed to dance with a life of their own. For a fleeting moment, it appeared as though the flowers were growing and dying in a continuous cycle, a mesmerizing display that only added to the mystery surrounding the young [Alchemist].

“Hi, you must be the [Healer],” the girl said, her voice calm and assured. “I’ll explain what I’m about to do in a second. I need a moment first.”

With that, the girl turned back to Aziza, her focus unwavering. Nutitari watched in awe as a marvelous projection of Mana materialized in the air before the Alchemist, its intricate patterns reminiscent of the Mandalas Nutitari had briefly studied during her time in the Order. Even though she didn't know the kind of spell the girl was using, she could tell from the complex weave of the Mana that its mastery was far beyond what one would expect from someone at such a young age and low level.

But it was the sheer magnitude of the Mana the girl summoned that truly took Nutitari’s breath away. Through her own finely tuned Mana Sense, Nutitari could feel the raw power emanating from the Alchemist – a reservoir of energy that rivaled her own despite the vast difference in their levels. As a Healer whose class variant focused on Mana reserves and output, Nutitari was intimately familiar with the limits of what was considered possible. Yet, here stood this enigmatic girl, defying all expectations and conventions.

Questions swirled in Nutitari’s mind, each one more pressing than the last. Who was this [Alchemist]? How had she acquired such power at such a young age? And what secrets did her Lost Class hold? But for now, those questions would have to wait.

The urgency of Aziza’s condition demanded their full attention.

The only thought that the redhead had in mind at the moment was a mix of gratitude and elation for having come here to examine Aziza. She would have never imagined that she would meet the Class she had been hunting down for so long.

...

Lily, her senses heightened by Reality’s Whisper, noticed the Healer’s intense stare. She turned to face the redheaded woman, her expression a mix of curiosity and impatience.

“Is there a problem?” Lily asked, her tone direct.

“No, no,” the Healer replied, shaking her head. “How can I help?”

Lily gestured at Aziza’s still body, the Mandala hovering above her like a dark halo. “I will move this Mandala over Aziza’s body one segment at a time. We’ll start with her limbs so we can see how much damage will need to be healed. Then, we’ll move to the organs and, lastly, the head.”

The Healer’s brow furrowed, a hint of apprehension in her voice. “What is it exactly that you’re about to do?”

“I will destroy the disease,” Lily stated, her words carrying the weight of certainty. “I can use Death Magic to destroy diseases and... well, conditions like Hebet’s.”

The Healer’s eyes widened, shock and disbelief etched across her features. “What?”

Lily sighed, her patience wearing thin. She could feel the urgency of the situation, the sands of Aziza’s life slipping through the hourglass with each passing moment. “Healer, I would rather talk later and do this now, shall we?”

Hebet, observing the exchange, let out a laugh tinged with irony. “Did you hear her, Healer?”

Nutitari’s frown deepened, her mind grappling with the implications of Lily’s words. “I heard,” she said, her voice a mix of reluctance and determination. “Let’s start then.”

Lily nodded, her focus shifting back to Aziza. With a fluid motion, she moved the complex Mandala over Aziza’s hand, where the intricate patterns pulsated with otherworldly energy. She reached out, her fingers gently grasping Aziza’s hand, establishing a physical connection that would serve as a conduit for her magic.

Closing her eyes, Lily delved into the depths of her power, calling upon Death Touch and immersing herself fully in the task at hand. Reality’s Whisper and Meditation intertwined, guiding her consciousness to the parasites that ravaged Aziza’s body.

“We need to work together,” Lily explained, her voice steady and assured. “I will use my Death Magic to destroy the parasites that are ravaging Aziza’s body. As I do so, I need you to focus your Light Magic on healing the damage left in its wake.”

Nutitari nodded, her mind already racing with the implications of what they were about to attempt. The idea of combining Death Magic and Light Magic was unheard of – it was a concept that went against everything she had been taught.

“I understand,” Nutitari said, her voice firm with resolve. “I’m ready when you are.”

Lily gave a curt nod, her attention shifting back to the Mandala. With a fluid motion, she directed the dark energy to Aziza’s hand, the patterns shifting and morphing as they made contact with the warrior’s skin.

As she began channeling Death Magic through the Mandala and Death Touch, dark energy surged through Aziza’s hand, seeking out the parasites that had made it their home. The Mandala pulsated wildly, its forms changing in response to the flow of magic – a mesmerizing sight.

The room was bathed in an eerie glow as the Mandala’s power grew, its light casting shadows that danced across the walls like specters. Lily had hoped to conceal the true nature of her magic, to keep the amulet Hadrian had given her as a shield against prying eyes. But the Mandala’s strength was too great, its radiance too intense to be contained by it.

Nutitari watched in a mix of horror and fascination as the Death Magic began its work.

...

The parasites within Aziza’s hand withered and died under its onslaught. The sight was both gruesome and mesmerizing in Lily's mind's eye.

"Heal, now," Lily said.

As the Death Magic retreated, leaving behind a trail of destruction, Nutitari sprang into action. She called upon her Light Magic, focusing it on the ravaged tissue in Aziza’s hand. The warm, golden glow of her magic suffused the area, knitting together the damaged cells and restoring vitality to the once-infected flesh.

The process was repeated as Lily moved the Mandala up Aziza’s arm, with Death Magic and Light Magic working in tandem to purge the parasites and heal the warrior’s body.

As they worked, Nutitari couldn’t help but marvel at the precision and control that Lily exhibited. The Alchemist’s movements were fluid and graceful, her magic responding to her will with a finesse that spoke of years of practice and mastery. It was a humbling experience to witness such power and skill in one so young.

Time seemed to lose its meaning as they progressed, the world narrowing down to the intricacies of their magic and the steady rhythm of their collaboration. Nutitari found herself losing herself in the flow of her Light Magic, the golden glow of her healing energy intertwining with the dark tendrils of Lily’s Death Magic in a mesmerizing display of power and purpose.

As they reached Aziza’s shoulder, Nutitari glanced up at Lily with a newfound respect and admiration in her eyes. The Alchemist met her gaze, a silent understanding passing between them.

...

As the last vestiges of the parasitic infestation were purged from Aziza’s body, Lily and Nutitari stepped back, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The warrior lay still, her features peaceful, as if in a deep, restful slumber. The absence of the sickly pallor that had once marred her skin was a testament to the success of their combined efforts.

Lily, her Mana reserves depleted to the point of exhaustion, slumped to the ground, her legs no longer able to support her weight. She leaned against the wall, and her eyes closed as she fought to catch her breath. Beside her, Nutitari too appeared drained, the toll of their intense healing session evident in the sheen of sweat that glistened on her brow.

The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of their labored breathing. Hebet stood watch, her eyes darting between Aziza’s still form and the two exhausted healers, relief and concern etched into her features.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a servant rushed in, their face a mask of panic. “Priests!” the servant gasped, their voice trembling with urgency. “They’re outside, requesting entrance!”

Lily’s eyes snapped open, confusion furrowing her brow. “What?” she asked, her voice hoarse from exertion.

Hebet and Nutitari exchanged a knowing glance, a silent communication. Nutitari sighed, her shoulders slumping with resignation. “They’re after me,” she said, her tone heavy with weariness. “It was a pleasure, Lily. Before I go, my name is Nutitari. It was humbling to work with you. But now, I need to go.”

She pushed herself to her feet, her movements slow and deliberate. Lily watched as Nutitari made her way to the window.

But before she could reach it, the window flew open with a sudden gust of wind, the glass panes rattling in their frames. A figure emerged from the shadows beyond – a man of middle age with a slick, polished appearance. He moved with a grace that belied his age, his feet barely making a sound as he landed on the floor.

Lily’s eyes widened as she took in the man’s appearance, her gaze immediately drawn to the tag that hovered above his head.

[Hierophant - Level ???]

The fact that she couldn't see the man's level meant that there were at least a hundred levels between them.

The realization sent a chill down her spine – a mix of awe and apprehension that rooted her to the spot.

The man’s eyes, dark and inscrutable, swept across the room, taking in the scene before him. His gaze lingered on Nutitari, a flicker of recognition passing across his features. “Nutitari,” he said, his voice smooth and low, carrying a note of authority that demanded attention. “Your mother has been looking for you.”

Nutitari stiffened, her posture rigid with defiance. “I have no intention of returning, Sekerhab,” she said, her words clipped and sharp. “My place is among those who need me.”

The Hierophant’s lips curled into a smile that held no warmth. “You know that is not an option,” he said, his tone deceptively gentle. “Your duties to the Order supersede any personal desires.”

Then, as the man turned to the others, he frowned at Hebet, "Hebet, I'm not surprised by seeing you here. But this girl... an [Alchemist]? I don't think I've had the pleasure yet."

Lily stood in front of the man with a frown and felt like punching him, even though she lacked a lot of the context that surrounded these events.

"It wouldn't have been a pleasure," Lily smiled, wishing she still had her ring and the Mana Potions, for all they didn't have a big effect on her, it would have been nice to have some Mana while facing this man.

"Lily," Nutitari said with concern, "this is my problem. Sekerhab... let's leave."

Hebet said nothing as the man glanced at them one more time and then went out the window together with Nutitari.

Moments later, as Lily turned to Hebet, she asked, "who was that? And who's Nutitari?"

"That was the [Hierophant]," Hebet sighed, "the second most powerful person in Amunara. And... well, I guess it doesn't make sense to hide it. Nutitari is the [High Priestess]'s daughter, the most powerful person and the head of state in Amunara."