A Mythical Journey To Remember - Chapter 31

Chapter 31 - The Strange Prisoner

The gaunt man that appeared like a strong wind could topple him over, resembling someone half-starved to death. However, underestimating him would be foolish, considering he held the head guard position before Camilla, a monstrously strong individual.

Approaching his cell with caution, I pushed a tray of food and a bottle of water toward him. His sunken eyes fixated on me, giving him a zombie-like appearance that was rather intimidating.

"I haven't had water in days," the man rasped, his voice surprisingly calm given his circumstances.

I stood by his side as he greedily devoured the food, finishing it all within minutes and even licking the plate clean. Afterward, he looked at me with somber eyes and an expressionless face.

"You must be new," he stated matter-of-factly. "Since you've shown kindness to me, I'll return the favor. I don't have much time left, and I'll die in this cell. So take this as advice from an old, washed-up man: get the hell away from this city."

"Why?" I asked, curious about his reasons.

Before he could answer, he suddenly narrowed his eyes and pointed towards the entrance. Following his gaze, I saw a dark-haired woman standing there, her uniform tightly hugging her body. She wore an amused smile, and the flickering torchlight made her eyes gleam.

How long had she been there?!

"Apologies for the interruption, please continue," she said casually.

A chill ran down my spine, and I realized my mistake. "Sorry, I know I wasn't supposed to talk to prisoners."

"Little Camilla, I told you to kill me a long time ago. You know I have a big mouth. Who knows how long I can keep certain things hidden?" the gaunt man babbled.

Hey, be careful what you might be implying there! What if she decided to eliminate me to protect whatever secret he knew?

"Idas, someone is injured," Camilla said calmly. "Get there and help them."

I nodded, eager to comply, wanting to avoid their conflict. As she placed a hand on my shoulder, a shiver ran down my spine. We climbed the stairs, and she spoke again.

"He used to be a good man and taught me a lot. It's a shame he ended up doing what he did."

"Of course," I nodded, changing the subject. "By the way, how was the guard injured?"

"Some thugs were still roaming around, and he went to tell them to get inside. A fight broke out between the thugs and the guards, resulting in injuries for us," she explained.

I didn't need to ask about the thugs' fate; it was clear what had happened. However, the tension in the city worried me. It seemed like the situation was growing increasingly precarious.

"With the curfews in place, we have tightened our grip on criminal activities in town," she added.

"Good," I coughed and responded awkwardly.

Fortunately, we reached the medical room, where the injured man she had mentioned lay on the ground, clutching his bleeding abdomen and breathing heavily. Though having him sit on the ground seemed unsanitary, people were unaware of such things yet.

Approaching the man, I ripped off his shirt to get a better look at his stab wound on the side and midsection. He yelled in pain, and I glanced at Camilla and other guards. "Hold him down. I need a better view of his wound."

Camilla gestured to two guards who secured his hands and legs. The soldier appeared fearful as he spoke. "Damn, why wasn't the usual doctor on shift? I'm going to die like a pig."

His words almost offended me, but he was right. I lacked any significant medical training, and my knowledge of medicine was extremely basic.

"Don't worry. Even if I'm not skilled in medicine, I have always been lucky. Somehow, it will work out," I reassured him.

In response, he tugged and struggled. "Let me go! I'll take my chances and wait for the healer tomorrow!"

Considering his energy despite being injured, I opened my small bag and rummaged until I found a milky white potion. Opening the lid, I poured two drops into his screaming mouth. Immediately, his head sank back onto the ground, and his eyelids grew heavy.

Turning to the guards restraining him, I reminded them, "Keep holding him down, just in case. I'm uncertain how long the potion's effect will last; this is my first time trying it."

My reassuring words made even the uninjured guards nervous. Camilla, however, smiled. "As amusing as this is, it's quite worrying to hear our healer talk about his lack of skills."

"I never said I wasn't competent; I simply mentioned it's my first time," I retorted.

Hopefully, this banter would divert her attention from the suspicious information I overheard. If I wanted to increase my survival chances, I had to show my usefulness.

Damn it, maybe I shouldn't have gotten involved in all of this. Sure, living without control over my fate would be frustrating, but at least I wouldn't have to worry about Camilla tearing my head off.

No, I shouldn't doubt now. If I had wanted a life of security, I would have stayed in my village and become a hermit.

Some said that danger builds character... and brings death. Please, Luck stat, if you work as I believe you do, help me survive this encounter. If I make it through, I'll allocate all my stat points to luck and won't cheat on you by investing any in Spirit.

After cleaning the wound with boiled water and stitching it up, I applied some hard liquor. With everything prepared, I sutured it closed.

Camilla leaned on the wall watching from the sidelines, her curious gaze fixed on me. "The stitches are nice. Also, what was that? The healer usually puts honey on a wound like that. Where did you learn your healing?"

The second question slipped past me as my brain struggled to process the first half. Who on earth came up with the idea of using honey on wounds? My understanding of medicine was basic, rooted in modern practices that made sense. It seemed I was more knowledgeable than the average healer of this era, just by knowing some basic things.

"I learned it from the healer in my village," I replied, meeting her gaze. "But this was just beginner's work. I'm not usually this good." I wanted to ensure she didn't suspect me of lying.

She stared at me for a few silent seconds, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. However, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the walls, signaling that morning had arrived, and she broke eye contact.

"It seems like daytime already. The next healer will come in a while to cover the rest of the day shift. You can go and rest," she said.

I didn't object and was escorted outside the palace by one of the guards. Although the sun had risen, some of the members of the royal court were still engaged in revelry and drinking. But that had nothing to do with me.

Investing all my points in luck wasn't solely due to this situation. I wasn't even sure if luck affected anything beyond luck-related events, like potion-making or archery. However, with luck, I could have a higher success rate when brewing high-end potions at Level 8 or above, which required rare and precious ingredients. On average, such potions had a mere 3% success rate, making it impossible for most to practice with them.

That's why increasing luck was crucial. Though improving my spirit stat would allow me to create larger quantities of potions and enhance my combat abilities with Transmutation, I had no plans to engage in any dire battles anytime soon.

Although I lacked the recipes, as an Alchemist, I possessed what someone would consider 'Basic Knowledge' inherent to the class. When I reached the required level, I gained access to potion recipes.

Once I could craft God Cursing Potions or Eight Nirvana Potions, there would be few who could challenge me, aside from the Gods themselves. The Transmutation skill would continue to level up, even if I focused less on Spirit.

Yes, I had to look at the future. After all, I had been granted a chance to attain power, and it would be a shame if I didn't seize it.

Despite my concerns, I arrived safely in my rented room, encountering nothing out of the ordinary. I breathed out a sigh of relief and walked up the stairs. Despite it looking safe, I looked at every shadow with suspicion.

When I opened the door to my room, Budas and Auto looked at me. The young girl even asked. “Wow, you look horrible.”

“I’m not used to staying up all night,” I waved off her worries.

As I lay in the comfort of my bed, a thousand thoughts rushed through my head.

I wanted to escape. There was something going on I couldn't see and some scheme I had no idea about. However, running at the slightest problem wasn’t something I could do.