Chapter 25: The Art of Healing

Elemental spirits are the most energetic beings, and shamans who can form pacts with them are comparable in spellcasting skills to professional casters such as mages and warlocks. They are known as elemental shamans.
The purer and more singular a spirit is, the harder it is to communicate with and form a pact with. Thus, elemental shamans often spend their entire lives possessing only 1 or 2 elemental totems—combinations like wind-fire, wind-water, earth-fire, or earth-water. Elements themselves have certain repulsive and exclusive properties; it’s difficult to please both water and fire, or wind and earth.
However, thanks to the existence of elemental crystals, Neo perfectly overcame this limitation. With the harmonization provided by the relics, the four elements coexisted, creating the prerequisite for building a true conscious world.
This could be seen as acquiring a foundational attribute through external intervention, yet equivalent to innate talent. Even if Neo only had a superficial understanding of elemental energy and spellcasting talent, he could easily imagine how fortunate such an achievement would be.
Overjoyed? In tears? These words fall far short of describing Neo’s feelings at that moment.
Neo had always harbored a great desire: to gain immense power and status, break free from the constraints of worldly laws, and marry his beloved in a grand ceremony. He also wanted to save his people from the brink of starvation.
Yet, to fulfill this desire, the usual methods of improving strength were far from enough. He was already 19—21 by 4, 23 by 5? That would already be the result of great effort and genius under normal circumstances. But the status of a level 5 warrior was not enough to marry a noble lady with honor. How could he bridge the gap from a foreign slave to a widely recognized ruler within a set time limit?
No normal person would expect to achieve such a feat through luck. Fortunately, Neo understood that strength wasn’t just about personal combat skills. He thought of his identity as the son of the wolf tribe’s leader. The position of wolf tribe leader wasn’t purely hereditary, but Neo still had confidence in winning and taking over the position. His confidence came from what he had learned in the human world over the years.
As plans took shape through repeated deliberation, Neo began to prepare actively. It was then that he fell into a series of misfortunes…
“Fate has been so generous to me. It has put me face to face with great dangers time and again, yet also given me opportunities that bring substantial rewards, allowing me to deeply understand the two sides of things and grasp the meaning of ‘crisis.’” These words became Neo’s opening or closing phrase whenever he recounted his experiences later on.
And this realization began right at this moment. Yet, this tremendous achievement, long dreamed of by countless casters yet unattainable, held far less allure at that time than the minor powers entrusted to him by the “perfect woman.”

It was a force that Neo could not describe precisely—somewhat like the force of life, yet more proactive and active; it repelled any force associated with negativity like holy light, but not with such intensity. Neo could faintly sense a deep connection between it and the threads of his past life, but more importantly, it was a completely new force he had no prior awareness of at all. He easily associated it with the relics represented by that perfect woman.

For Neo, the extraordinary adventures in the world of consciousness lasted only a brief period, but for Ebut and Rijef, it was less than five minutes of waiting. First, they saw Neo sit down and, by adjusting his breathing and posture, calm and relax. Soon, that calmness deepened into a profound stillness, as if his soul had left his body.

“Is it meditation?” Rijef asked in a hushed voice.

“Shh…” Ebut made a gesture to stay quiet, signaling not to disturb Neo. Magic was considered miraculous and even terrifying to ordinary people. Although scientific advancements had opened the door to phenomena like steam locomotives that could rival magical effects, allowing people to experience the miraculous more frequently, traditional beliefs remained deeply rooted among the ignorant villagers from Tures.

After their conversation, they inadvertently noticed an invisible energy flowing around Neo. At first, they thought it was the heat from the brazier, but then they realized it was too concentrated and gradually intensified until it formed an energy vortex around him.

Suddenly, a golden light burst forth from Neo, filling the entire tent with gold. The light carried a sense of solemnity and vastness, reminiscent of the earth that bears heavy burdens.

Shortly after the golden light faded, a fresh green glow emerged—fresh, vibrant, yet peaceful, like the scene of grass sprouting in the gentle spring rain of March. Though less intense than the golden light, this glow felt more powerful, even possessing some of the characteristics of divine magic—its subtle pressure made people feel solemn and reverent.

A few seconds later, Neo opened his eyes, with golden and green lights flickering within them. In that moment, his expression gave Ebut and Rijef the feeling that they were not facing an ordinary being, but something mysterious and superior to ordinary life.

Fortunately, when the light disappeared, their familiar Neo was back—the young, handsome man with the eyes of a mature man, always wearing a humble smile…

“Neo, do you actually have a talent for magic?” Ebut asked, eyes wide.

A person with magical talent was extremely valuable to any noble. Xavier had spent money more than once to bring specialists to Tures to test for such talent, including Neo, who had also undergone the tests.

Nio became famous for his combat skills and attracted much attention. He was recognized as a sufficiently intelligent werewolf, and given his racial traits, if he had even a slight talent for spellcasting, he had the potential to become a magic swordsman. Even at the lowest level of “spell sword,” his value would soar, and Tures as a whole would gain great fame. However, both tests showed that Nio’s affinity for elements was extremely low; unless something extremely special happened, he could forget about the path of elemental spellcasting for the rest of his life. At that time, Ebut and the others were somewhat disappointed. Now that Nio could suddenly cast spells, Ebut was naturally surprised. “It’s not the kind of spellcasting in the broad sense, but a power derived from racial traditions and beliefs,” Nio said, though reluctant to talk much, his explanation was meaningful. “Beliefs…” Ebut didn’t say much, but Rijef resonated with it. He had been plagued by illness these past few days and often saw Norlund, who would always say, “A person should have beliefs, and so should a nation. Beliefs often come with long-term goals; they are beacons in life, helping people escape confusion and bewilderment…” Now that Nio said his power came from beliefs, Rijef could sense that it wasn’t just an excuse. He thought, “If beliefs can clarify one’s path and grant power, then why not find one for myself?” Nio interrupted Rijef’s thoughts, saying he wanted to use this power and needed Rijef’s cooperation. “How?” “Relax, calm your emotions, and let your senses guide you.” “Okay.” Rijef looked at the glowing sphere that quickly appeared in Nio’s right hand, radiating life force, with a mix of anxiety and hope. The sphere eventually rushed toward Rijef in the form of a small wave. After spreading throughout his body, it seeped in quickly, like rain into cracked soil. Soon, Rijef felt a fresh and vibrant energy within him—first gathering, then spreading outward from within, causing every pore to open as the original sense of depression was completely expelled. From Ebut’s perspective, after the greenish wave of light entered Rijef’s body, tiny spindle-shaped lights began to rise around him. Within these lights, smoke-like black substances dispersed, first thickly then faintly, until they vanished completely. Ebut instinctively realized that the dark evil forces lurking in Rijef’s body must have been completely driven away this time. “I’m fine! I’m recovered!” Rijef excitedly tried to get up, but stumbled and nearly fell. Nio stepped forward to support him. “After lying down for so many days, you need to adjust. It’s best to eat well and get a good night’s sleep.” “Haha! I was too eager! Well, a big meal and a good sleep! Nio, thank you, so much. You can already use such a miraculous ability—I think it’s at least at the level of a 3rd or 4th-grade priest!” “You can even compare that?” Ebut was surprised. “Just a little speculation, hehe!” Rijef wasn’t embarrassed at all.

“Tch!” Ebute gave Rijef a slight look of disdain. In truth, he was happy for Rijef—they were used to joking around all the time, often in a frivolous manner.
“It’s not quite the same,” Nio explained. “This power mainly manifests in awakening the recipient’s potential and enhancing their vitality. Its strength depends greatly on the recipient’s own condition.” What he said was something he had only recently analyzed, and it was also a technique he often used to suppress others. He didn’t want this skill to end up being misreported as something that was extremely powerful from the start, comparable to the XX Healing Ritual used by Level 4 priests, or even more effective. He wasn’t ready to show his power to the world yet and gain recognition, support, and followers.
“No wonder you wanted me to be full of confidence and fight against illness—it’s to unleash my life’s potential at this moment…” Rijef had misunderstood, but Nio had to admit that the explanation was quite good and helped to justify it.
“Great! Now I can finally slack off for a few days legitimately!” Ebute still lacked confidence, especially after today’s battle. He felt the heavy burden of responsibility weighing him down. Rijef, on the other hand, had spent his childhood wandering from place to place, starting as a mercenary. In terms of military theory, he might not be as good as Ebute, but his practical combat experience made up for it. More importantly, Rijef had a warrior’s resilient heart, which made Ebute consider stepping aside.
Nio wouldn’t let that happen. Smiling, he said, “I think you still need to hold on. We’ll discuss everything once Lord wakes up.” Raising his right hand, Nio added, “How about trying it on you too? It may not be as targeted as a priest’s localized healing, but it can still help with wound recovery.”
“Using this power must be just as exhausting mentally and physically as casting spells…”
Nio waved his hand to interrupt. “I know my limits. You just need to obediently be my second test subject.”
Ebute smiled. “Alright!”
Rijef also laughed. “If all the priests and clerics in the Church adopted Nio’s style, I believe the number of believers could double at least!”
Nio replied, “Then the Church would go bankrupt, and faith would seem too cheap!”
Amid such casual chatter, a glimmer of green light began to form at the tips of Nio’s joined right index finger and thumb. It was then applied to Ebute’s injured area, and a refreshing, comfortable sensation immediately spread through his arm, greatly reducing the fatigue and weakness caused by blood loss.
Ebute exhaled in admiration. “Wow, this is far more effective than the potions popular these days. It works instantly. What technique is this? Touch of Life?”
“That’s a pretty good name. Let’s call it ‘Touch of Life’!” Nio said straightforwardly, without any pretense.
“It sounds like a real technique. But Nio doesn’t need to chant spells or form seals, and it doesn’t interfere with chatting with us. It’s truly different from magic. This way of using power is amazing!” Rijef played the role of the eccentric monk once again, and Nio enjoyed it once more.

“Nio, your skill really doesn’t have a name?” Jeff asked again.
“Indeed not.”
“Wow! Ebut, what terrible luck—you get to name a skill! Maybe this name will spread across the entire Aemera continent! Nio, did you name the skill you just used? How about letting me gain some glory too?”
“Sure!” Nio said. “But if it’s too trashy, I won’t accept it.”
“Hmm… Life Tides? Tide, Torrent, Wave Surge—which do you think sounds more impressive?” Jeff tried to come up with names by imitating the spell names he’d heard, and he did it quite well.
“Life Waves, I guess. To be honest, Torrent and Tide sound too exaggerated,” Nio said.
Jeff pouted and shook his head. “You’re great at everything except this—too plain! These days, who doesn’t exaggerate a bit? Life Torrent! Life Tides! How mighty! ‘Wave’ makes people think of that easily!” In high spirits, Jeff placed his hands on his chest.
Nio interrupted, “It seems your little buddy recovers the fastest.”
“What a great name! With just one wave, it heals—won’t you stay up all night happy?” Ebut joked from the side.
“Of course. You can’t compare this time—your ‘touch’ is just like holding a girl’s hand; it’s not enough to bring happiness!” Jeff retorted, his usual energy fully restored.
“A pair of perverts!” Nio laughed, pointing at the two of them. “I’m going to check on the injured. There are plenty of brothers waiting to hold girls’ hands!”
“You’re a pervert too!” Jeff and Ebut said in unison, then all three burst into laughter.
“Remember to keep it secret! Even after this ordeal, the Migration Team isn’t exactly pure anymore,” Nio said before leaving.
Jeff and Ebut stopped laughing and nodded seriously. The secrecy of life was worth preserving at all costs.
The injured camp wasn’t far from Jeff’s tent. Six seriously injured people were in a large tent, receiving the best care the Migration Team could offer. The temperature inside was comfortable, thanks to charcoal made from pine wood, and there were two air vents to keep the air circulating. Priest Norlund had also used holy water to disinfect the area.
Liz and Zinia were taking care of the injured. Liz’s father was a doctor. Although she later married Malfoy and became a hotel owner, she remained a top-tier professional in medicine. As for Zinia, a girl with some freckles on her face, she used to work at Malfoy’s hotel. During the invasion by the Dark Claws, she was abused along with Liz, and her only family member died in that disaster. Now, the two relied on each other for support.
Today, Liz wore a washed-out black cotton coat, looking plain with no makeup on. Yet, she was naturally beautiful, with her long, golden hair simply tied up with a white ribbon. Her fair skin appeared even cleaner against the black clothes, and her bright eyes carried a hint of sadness—a look typical of a young widow, truly a touching sight.

Seeing Neo enter, Liz’s eyes lit up slightly as she stepped forward quickly and said, “We were all very worried when we heard you suddenly fainted. It’s great to see that you’re safe and sound!”
Neo could clearly sense the deep concern in Liz’s words and replied, “It’s nothing serious. I was just tired.”
“Then rest more. With all this work, how can you handle it alone?” Liz’s gentle reproach sounded like that of an older sister scolding her irresponsible younger brother.
“Everyone is working so hard. How can I just stay in bed? Look, I’m full of energy now. My wounds have even healed—I’m a werewolf!” Neo defended himself with a smile. In the past, Neo had been close to the Malfoys, and it was Liz who taught him some herbal knowledge and healing techniques. But because Malfoy was somewhat jealous, they didn’t often talk so casually like this.
“How come you’re trying to coax me now? What’s wrong with werewolves? Rapid recovery takes a toll on one’s vitality—it’s like borrowing life. You need to take care of yourself, but in moderation…” Liz murmured as she carefully adjusted Neo’s clothes.
Neo couldn’t step back. There was something maternal about Liz, along with the charm of a mature woman, which attracted him greatly. After a brief hesitation, an intimate atmosphere developed between them.
Liz was very close, her soft hands occasionally touching Neo’s skin. Yet everything seemed natural, without any intense passion—instead, it carried a warm, familial feeling.
It must be said that desire born from affection is more tempting and lasts longer. Coupled with Liz’s current lonely situation, it was especially appealing to men with strong wills like Neo.
Listening to Liz’s melodious voice, looking closely at her fair neck, and smelling her faintly fragrant scent of laurel, Neo’s heart wavered. Deep down, he even wished he were a werewolf of the Jour clan (custom: indulge in passion as desire arises). It wasn’t just simple lust, but a complex longing mixed with emotions.
“Sister-in-law…”
“Call me sister from now on,” Liz interrupted.
“Hmm, Sister Liz… um… if you need any help, just ask me…” clumsily, but Neo still expressed his feelings—typical male protective instincts.
With her experience and feminine intuition, Liz could certainly sense the faint possessiveness behind that protectiveness.
A strong, handsome, knowledgeable man with great strength, humility, and a hint of wildness. Even a proud, well-educated noblewoman would find him attractive, let alone an ordinary woman. Calling him a “dream lover” wouldn’t be an exaggeration. Surely, Liz too felt a suppressed flutter in her heart? Moreover…