episode_0021

Rosalie and Isera were outside the building, conversing on an outdoor bench.

The sky was blue, the wind was cool, and the drink was, coincidentally, a mass-produced soda-flavored recovery potion.

The two women gulped down the sky-blue liquid that had almost taken the life of the promising Ras (though, of course, it wasn’t a real potion…).

Naturally, the potion now was a normal one, so there was no chance of them collapsing after drinking it.

Amidst the silence and awkwardness, Isera was the first to clear her throat and speak.

“Why did you do that earlier? It wasn’t like you to suddenly pick a fight with a student… Honestly, it was a bit pathetic, Rosalie.”

“Ah, really… Was it obvious I was throwing a tantrum? How embarrassing…”

Rosalie covered her beautiful face.

‘Anyway… she’s really, disgustingly pretty.’

Her face was red, her voice was barely a whisper, and her attire was modest, but Isera thought that a true beauty was simply pretty and cute no matter what she did.

Isera sharply and incisively questioned Rosalie, like a cobra’s head.

“You aren’t, by any chance, interested in my little Ras… in *that* way, are you? I’d like to believe not. It’s unsightly at your age.”

“N-no, it’s not like that… I just feel sorry for him, and Lizley was so insolent that it made me react. No…! And *you* calling him ‘my little’ is even more pathetic, okay?”

From Rosalie’s perspective, having cared for Ras from Wednesday morning until this morning without getting proper sleep, Lizley was truly insolent.

Ras had miraculously opened his eyes, but he had overcome dangerous crises more than once.

Hemoptysis, cardiac arrest, chills, high fever, seizures…

Someone might ask, “Shouldn’t one *not* be by his side in such a serious condition?” But for Rosalie, a doctor and a priest, it was a different matter.

It didn’t mean holding his hand right beside him, stamping one’s feet in anxiety.

At the very least, one should show a sincere desire and prayer for his recovery, whether or not they could see his face or make physical contact.

This wasn’t superstition; it was a theological act that effectively triggered God’s ‘miracles.’

It was natural for family, relatives, and lovers to pray with all their heart and soul beside a critically ill patient, but it also had a tangible effect, and Rosalie had personally witnessed countless such cases.

These seemingly weak prayers became the driving force that helped overcome illness or injury at crucial, do-or-die moments.

Lizley seemed even more insolent to Rosalie, who had observed Irha lingering near the ward all day, coming to express relief and pray whenever Ras’s condition improved slightly.

She wasn’t sure what their relationship was, but wasn’t it a relationship famous enough to reach even her ears as a professor?

But she came strolling in, slowly… and even then, she was exuding a suspicious atmosphere with another man.

Unlike Professor Isera, a fighting idiot completely oblivious to such things, Rosalie, a person with excellent perception, could roughly discern the subtle relationship between Leon and Lizley.

‘Hmph… Ras… I wonder if that gentle child knows, but… I can’t really tell him this, either…’

And in the midst of it, her attempts to ‘check’ Rosalie and Irha, ostensibly as Ras’s girlfriend, were simply venomous.

“You must be jealous of a young, pretty student. It’s ugly, but you’re much prettier, so there’s no need for jealousy, is there? If you want her, just take her.”

“What…? You’re really weird…! Stay away from Ras-gun. And ‘my little Ras-gun’ is also forbidden…!”

Rosalie yelled back at Isera, who was still spouting nonsense.

Thinking that people who pretend to be fools and spout nonsense like that were the most dangerous in the world.

*

“Hey, you can’t cry like that, you’re a grown man. Stop! Try to stop crying. How much does it hurt?”

“Waaahhh…! Mommy…!”

This was embarrassing..!

A large man, looking like he could catch a cow with his bare hands, was sobbing his heart out, and of all times, Professor Rosalie wasn’t here.

Honestly, it’s so pathetic to see such a big guy acting like that!

“It’s too hot… What did you do to me?! You bastard! You used some kind of poison, didn’t you!!! You’re like this too because of the side effects…!! Aren’t you like this right now too?!”

Blaber was screaming curses at me, acting like a madman.

While I wondered how much it hurt for him to act like that, I also wondered if I really needed to understand his crazy outburst.

Because I was the kind of person who’d hit a crying guy with another hard knock on the head, not a doctor who fixes things.

*Wham!* I gave him a hard knock on the head first.

“Nonsense. You wanna die, you brat. How dare you accuse me of being a poisoner, not even a drug addict. Are you trying to blame me, the victim of a faulty potion?”

He went quiet for a moment, as if he’d bitten his tongue. Of course, the look in his eyes didn’t soften.

However, he muttered with an extremely disgruntled and suspicious air, but his voice was loud enough for everything to be heard.

“Damn it… A commoner bastard left a wound more painful than my brother or father ever did… So how could I not be suspicious?!”

But listening to his agonizing plea, I felt a strong hunch.

Rosalie-ssi was clearly an exceptionally skilled healer who used the divine power of the Heavenly God, but sometimes there were things in the world that were difficult to heal completely.

For instance, injuries inflicted by the ‘flames’ I used after entering the realm of mental imagery before my regression.

Unlike ordinary physical flames with tangible forms, my flames were closer to a ‘poison’ that left a conceptual injury according to my will.

And it wasn’t just me; the attacks of those who had entered the realm of mental imagery were generally like this. “Oh, you’re hurt? Heal! Done!!” It was hard to say that.

Therefore, fighting an opponent who could use mental imagery to attack and inflict injuries was extremely tricky and difficult.

To begin with, there weren’t many individuals who could wield such an art.

Before my regression, those who had reached a level where they could even ‘clash’ with me, who had fully matured, numbered just over ten across the entire Western Continent.

Anyway, ever since I acquired the Nine Heavens Annihilation Flame Art, I had been able to leave a kind of ‘imprint’ on my defeated opponents, just as I did with Blaber now.

I had vaguely called that technique, which was akin to the past Ras’s identity reborn as Semere’s top dog, ‘Mark of Annihilation’ or ‘Scarlet Letter.’

It was a stamp I left to ensure no lingering threats from formidable opponents who, though meant to be killed in a fight, might somehow escape my grasp and flee.

Or you could say it was an after-service I’d leave for those I wanted to torment a bit, a combination of hope torture and despair torture.

Those who suffered it either wasted away and died, or sought me out, begging to be saved or killed.

Anyway, the fact that I could leave an ‘imprint’ on Blaber even before I had consumed Irha’s poison was quite astonishing.

It seemed the Nine Heavens Annihilation Flame Art had left its trace very deeply somewhere in my soul or existence, never quite vacating the room.

I hadn’t even imagined such a thing would still be possible right after my regression, so it was unexpected that I had diligently mastered it.

As for Blaber now… if I just let him suffer a bit longer, he’d probably get better eventually, repeating cycles of pain and recovery.

After all, the divine power of the Heavenly God was also a formidable force, no different from the realm of mental imagery, capable of saving and healing people simply by pouring it out without any special tricks.

Though Rosalie-ssi might suffer a little.

“Hey, Blaber. Come here.”

Still, on second thought, it felt bad for Rosalie-ssi to be pouring divine power into that kind of guy’s shoulder and indulging his childish sobbing.

“Why…! Are you going to hit me again…?”

I silently raised my fist at the grumbling guy, and he immediately tucked his tail between his legs and whimpered.

Anyway, he was a guy who whined excessively and had a terrible personality, but he definitely knew how to act strong to the weak and weak to the strong.

How convenient is it that he bows automatically if I just show him my fist once? If it were someone like Emma, who’s completely unhinged, it would’ve been exhausting.

“Look at your shoulder. Didn’t you overdo it during the exam? You must’ve gone wild trying to make an impression on the student council. You like showing off, too.”

“N-not that much. What else was I supposed to do? It was an exam.”

He was probably a fire-attribute magic user, which was why the ‘imprint’ activated even better on him.

If you light a fire next to a burning house, the fire burns better, right? It’s complicated to explain, but that’s roughly the principle.

I grabbed his shoulder and roughly kneaded it this way and that.

“Ugh… ouch… It hurts..! Gurgle… gurgle…!”

I’m tormenting you *because* it hurts, you brat.

You tormented me a lot back then, too…. Well, thinking about how I grabbed this bastard’s shoulder and tore him to pieces before my regression, I do feel a little sorry now.

Despite being a guy who whined terribly, it wasn’t bad to see him not back out, trying to face a fitting end as a Guard soldier.

Ugh… This bastard, if he ends up as Leon’s doormat again this life, he might meet the same fate as in his previous life….

Remembering old times, I roughly took care of it.

As expected, a faint ‘imprint’ was unconsciously lodged in his shoulder.

I lightly retrieved the intangible yet clearly formed flame.

A neighborhood bully? Anyway, perhaps because of the regression, my flames, which had taken on the appearance and impression of a fierce demon, now had a somewhat cuter impression.

Even at this level, it could inflict immense pain on Blaber, who was a fairly skilled Pyromancy mage.

Anyway, it worked out well.

While kneading a man’s shoulder made me slightly uncomfortable, it felt as good as discovering a hidden slush fund, so I was pleased.

I was very satisfied, as that slush fund was like gold coins I’d forgotten about, thinking I’d dropped them somewhere~

Currently, I had gained stability but at the cost of significantly reduced firepower, which was a shame. However, retrieving a flame with just this level of intensity greatly improved my situation.

Even if I didn’t grow it to be as incredibly venomous as it was before my regression, it would be good enough to moderately enhance my firepower.

I dropped the retrieved slush fund into a corner of my calm and peaceful mental imagery room.

When I closed my eyes, the slightly gentle yet resolute flame and the ill-tempered-looking flame unexpectedly harmonized well.

Indeed, when a person does good deeds, they receive blessings.

“Done! You brat, your shoulder was just stiff, that’s all. You just came here to unnecessarily cling to Professor Rosalie-nim, didn’t you? You sly one.”

“N-no…! *You’re* the one who’s sly for thinking that! You bastard… To think you’re even better at fighting than me now… A strong and wicked guy…”

I roughly patted Blaber’s shoulder, completing both the treatment and the retrieval of the slush fund.

He’d probably feel a bit of warm pain today, then it would heal without issue by tomorrow.

Still, perhaps because the pain had subsided immediately, his face looked noticeably more relaxed.

“Hey. I don’t know what you touched, but thanks anyway. Break up with Lizley quickly. You bastard.”

*Dash!*

He left a remark that could’ve been gratitude or a curse, and then bolted.

Anyway, he was a funny guy, but I hoped that in this life, I wouldn’t have to grab his shoulder and tear him to pieces again.

*

“S-so..! Emma! Hand over the money!!”

“W-what…?! Money, you say…!”

At that very moment, in a corner of the building’s lounge, a fierce battle was unfolding between Irha and Emma….

Surprisingly, Irha, who used to be a pushover, was now extorting money from Emma..!

-To be continued-