Chapter 199: We Are All Fools

"Do you realize that was a miracle that can never be replicated! Without the Silent Forest artifact, Alastrelle could never again unleash such power, or anything even approaching it. Countless coincidences converged to form that world-shattering meteor—it is truly a miracle of magic!"

The agitated old man waved his only remaining arm, speaking to Elvia beside him about the cataclysmic star that had fallen from the heavens, obliterating everything in the front-line camp at Sewentan.

"The old gentleman is right. If not for the artifact known as the Silent Forest, this spell would surely be beyond the reach of the Alastrelle we know today."

Elvia, who was busy applying healing magic to the bandaged stump of the Night's Edge veteran's arm, agreed with his assessment.

However, the girl shifted her tone, cautioning the old man, who was flailing about in his excitement over the analysis of the meteor.

"Still, sir, you really ought to take it easy. Ordinary healing spells can only suppress such injuries; true recovery depends on your own body. Please, stop moving so violently, or the wound will tear open."

Waving a hand dismissively, the old man displayed a strange sense of confidence and nonchalance.

"What about those potions the soldiers use? Get me a bottle of that; the effects look far superior to this common healing magic."

"Those potions cause excruciating pain; it would be better if you didn't use them."

Elvia looked troubled. If she asked Wang Yu, who was also helping treat the wounded nearby, he certainly had them, but the agony...

"It’s fine, just a little pain. I am a formal mage; do you think I can’t handle this after surviving the loss of an arm?"

The old mage patted his thin chest with his remaining hand, radiating a bizarre sense of bravado.

"Very well." With no other choice, the girl went to find Wang Yu for the potion.

A short time later.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh!" The old man writhed on his hospital bed, clutching his wound, his screams echoing as the pain overwhelmed the confident mage.

Elvia and Wang Yu watched the scene with helpless expressions. The restorative potions Wang Yu crafted were undeniably effective, but the pain they induced was equally legendary.

He could use them on himself without issue, but administering them to others was a complicated affair.

"Don't mind him. This stubborn old man is always like this—never satisfied, always wanting to try everything. He'll be fine once the pain passes."

A female soldier dressed as a nurse walked by, glancing at the writhing mage before speaking offhandedly.

She had seen many soldiers scream after taking Wang Yu’s concoctions; even those with iron wills struggled, so the old mage’s thrashing was actually quite impressive.

"Hoo... hoo... The realization of this pseudo-eighth-tier spell relied entirely on the Silent Forest artifact. By nullifying the presence of magic, it simultaneously eliminated the mutual repulsion between mana crystals and the conflicts that arise when mana circuits are charged."

"It meant that one only needed to arrange the crystals beforehand, and in the final moment before withdrawing the Silent Forest... pouring all the mana into the array allowed one to bypass the overload, mana fluctuations, and circuit resonance ruptures—those common, almost unavoidable problems... That was the key to successfully completing the spell."

The old man’s wails gradually subsided, and he began to mutter intermittently. If one listened closely, it was a meticulous, step-by-step analysis of the meteor spell’s execution.

The stubborn old man was using pure logic to distract himself from the agony, and remarkably, he was succeeding.

Wang Yu, who had been listening to the analysis, looked at Elvia, who nodded to confirm that the old man’s reasoning was sound.

"How marvelous. An artifact used to suppress mages—a mage-killer, if you will—has produced unimaginable power in the hands of a mage."

Speaking with a touch of emotion, Wang Yu was genuinely struck by the creativity and imagination of the Alastrelle mages.

"Exactly. This is what it means to be an Alastrelle mage... We explore and study everything that can be utilized. A mage is not merely someone who casts spells; we are seekers, explorers, and creators of endless knowledge."

"Your potion is certainly potent; I underestimated its power. But the effect is undeniable—I believe I can get out of bed and move about freely now."

Having adapted to the pain of the "artificial" potion—which was actively destroying damaged tissue and replacing it with new growth—the old mage climbed out of bed to respond to Wang Yu’s sentiment.

"You will stay right there, you stubborn, impatient old man! If we lose you as a combatant, I don't know how our marching squad will fare. Mr. Wang Yu, I’m sorry to trouble you, but please, help treat this patient as well."

The nurse-soldier pushed a cart carrying a wounded man toward Wang Yu, simultaneously shoving the old man back onto his bed, which immediately triggered another round of screams.

"No problem, leave it to me..." Wang Yu looked at the Night's Edge soldier on the cart, whose body was covered by a white sheet, his face deathly pale, with red fluid seeping from a bandaged wound on his abdomen. He began his work immediately.

When news of the meteor strike that destroyed the Sewentan front-line camp reached the capital, it brought not only excitement and joy but also a massive influx of wounded soldiers who had been sent back to the city for medical care.

The medical conditions at the front were far too poor; simple healing spells were ineffective for those who had lost limbs or suffered internal organ damage. Only in the capital could they receive proper treatment.

Consequently, Wang Yu had soon received a request for help from Shugin. The Night's Edge soldiers who had been severely wounded at the front needed more healers, and although Wang Yu was technically a knight, he possessed unique healing abilities.

Furthermore, as a self-proclaimed amateur alchemist, the potions he brewed—while causing terrifying pain—were vastly superior to anything available on the market.

Combining these two factors, Wang Yu’s healing capabilities were highly regarded within Night's Edge, an organization primarily composed of combat classes.

The wounded man before him, a formal knight, had a broken metal blade embedded deep in his abdomen. It was lodged tightly and dangerously; had it gone any deeper, it might have struck his spine, making the situation far more complex.

Fortunately, the physique of a formal knight had kept him alive despite the deep wound, but if the foreign object could not be removed and the wound could not heal, the internal deterioration would soon claim the life of this weakened knight.

"Mr. Wang Yu, I must rely on you. The muscle density of a formal knight is too high, pinning the broken blade inside, and we fear that cutting the wound open further would be too much for his weakened body to bear."

The nurse-soldier spoke.

Wang Yu had already begun. Blood flowed from the Blood-Biting Ring where he had stored it, and under the guidance of the Bloody Gale Knight’s secret arts, it burrowed into the soldier’s wound.

Blood was the source of Wang Yu’s healing power; his blood had always possessed restorative properties, and as his constitution had further increased, this once-faint ability had been significantly bolstered.

The blood entered the patient’s body, and under the flexible control of the secret arts, it branched out into countless tiny tentacles, spreading within.

Using his ripple-sense to monitor the interior, he wrapped around the necrotic flesh and clotted blood, transporting and extracting them to prevent further decay.

Elvia stood nearby, covering the wound on the soldier’s abdomen with her palms, which glowed with an emerald light, replenishing his vitality.

Under the dual influence of Wang Yu’s blood-borne healing power and the healing spell, the smaller, difficult-to-treat wounds healed rapidly, while the larger ones stopped deteriorating, allowing the edges of the lacerations to slowly knit together.

Wang Yu’s blood probed deeper into the abdomen, clearing a path until it reached the embedded blade.

This was the object preventing the soldier’s recovery, but for Wang Yu, it was no longer a problem.

He wrapped his blood around the broken blade and began to drag it slowly outward, following the path it had created upon entry. By coating the sharp edges in blood, he ensured no secondary damage would occur.

Bit by bit, he used his blood to push open a small gap in the knight’s firm abdominal muscles from the inside, pulling the broken blade out through the opening.

Finally, the blood formed a needle and thread to suture the wound. In less than five minutes, a "surgical operation" that felt like cheating was complete.

"I left a portion of my blood inside; it should help him recover quickly. The rest shouldn't be a problem." He tossed the blade fragment into a nearby bin.

"Thank you for your help. It is thanks to you that we have been able to save so many of the wounded from danger so quickly."

The nurse-soldier bowed sincerely to Wang Yu.

Wang Yu nodded with a smile, and the girl beside him was equally happy; Elvia took great joy in being able to help these brave souls who fought for Alastrelle.

"Wait, tell me, shouldn't soldiers coming down from the front be able to receive treatment at the medical centers in the capital? Why are there so many Night's Edge wounded stuck here?"

Charles’s voice came from nearby. He was also sweating profusely, wiping his brow with a cloth as he walked over to complain to the nurse.

He had been helping treat the wounded for a long time, using his wizard abilities and the "Lovers" tarot card to assist in the healing.

Unlike Edward, who could only act as an assistant, Charles had plenty to do, and while exhausted, he was puzzled as to why so many Night's Edge members were left behind.

"Those medical centers prioritize the royal soldiers and the private troops sent to the front by the nobles. The number of wounded returning this time is so high that it’s normal for them to be unable to treat everyone."

The one-armed old mage, who had been shoved back onto his bed, seemed to hear Charles’s complaint and explained why so many Night's Edge members were left waiting for care.

"What? Isn't this blatant discrimination? Night's Edge is supposed to be a vital combat force at the front, right? The royal family is deliberately making things difficult for us—aren't they afraid of a protest from the members of Night's Edge?"

Upon hearing the old mage’s disdainful explanation, Charles became instantly furious.

Although the number of wounded was high, it was certainly possible to prioritize the critically injured based on the severity of their condition.

Yet, the royal family had chosen to put the Night's Edge wounded at the very end of the list. This wasn't just a subtle jab; it was open, naked hostility.

"Haha, you’re not wrong, but what can we do? We are Night's Edge, after all. The royal family knows we will compromise for the 'greater good' at a time like this. They’ve always had conflicts with us, so it’s only natural for them to suppress us when they get the chance."

The old mage laughed, acknowledging Charles’s point, but his follow-up left Charles even more stunned.

"So, they’re targeting us, and we aren't even going to resist? Isn't that just plain stupid?"

Charles was at a loss for words, lingering in a state of stifled frustration; after all, taking insults and blows without retaliation was hardly this fellow’s style.

"Who’s to say otherwise? Anyone who chooses of their own free will to become a member of the Night’s Edge—are they not all fools?"

"Or perhaps the Night’s Edge, an organization older than this very kingdom, was founded by a group of fools whose stupidity is rather endearing."

The old mage spoke with an indescribable smile, leaving Charles even more dumbfounded.

"Isn't that right?" The old mage gestured toward the other wounded men lying nearby, having spoken loudly enough that the resting members of the Night’s Edge surely heard him.

"Haha, true enough. Sometimes I think I’m quite the fool myself, joining an organization that’s always caught between a rock and a hard place."

"Exactly. It does feel foolish. The royal family and those nobles are always targeting us. We talk about striking, but we never actually go through with it. Captain Shugin has complained about it a dozen times, yet whenever there’s trouble, he’s the first to lead us out."

"True. But even if I feel like a bit of a fool, I’ve never regretted joining this group, or meeting a bunch of idiots just like me."

"You really have a way with words, you rascal."

"What you say is right, but the moment I can stand up, I’m going to punch you."

A chorus of responses erupted from the surrounding men. Their words left Charles stunned, and he scratched his head, unsure of how to reply.

"The Night’s Edge is just that kind of organization. We see what we are protecting and we strive for it; that is enough. That is the reason we joined. As for the hostility from the royals and nobles, it is what it is."

"They know full well they cannot afford to lose us, so they won't push too far. The Night’s Edge will make compromises for the 'greater good,' but on matters of principle, we will never yield. We may be fools, but we are not cowards."

The old mage spoke with a carefree air, devoid of bitterness. At his age, having served the Night’s Edge for so long, he had long since come to terms with its rules and realities.

"Fine, fine. I understand."

Charles waved a hand, abandoning his complaints.

"Let’s go. Let’s see how Edward is doing, playing assistant to everyone else."

With that, he beckoned to Wang Yu, who had finished helping out, and they headed toward Edward.

...

"The way you’ve developed your body is something I’ve never seen. You call yourself a knight, but I’d swear you were some kind of elemental or void creature."

"Who drains their own blood to heal others? If it were internal circulation, I might understand, but you haven't even awakened that yet. It’s just absurd."

"Yes, like a monster—a particularly outrageous one. By the way, you said you were leaving the capital?"

Charles gestured as he walked alongside Wang Yu. Beside them, Avia’s lips curled into a faint smile as she watched this fellow, who became quite amusing once he grew familiar, clowning around before Wang Yu.

"Yes, I plan to leave once the war with Seuvintan concludes. After the success of the Destructive Meteor spell, Seuvintan shouldn't have much of a chance left," Wang Yu nodded.

"Ah, I envy you. After staying in the capital for so long and seeing things that make your blood boil, you really do want to leave and wander the world."

"But I’m not as free as you. I have the family mess to deal with. My father is desperate for me to inherit the estate, and he wants me to find a noble girl to produce the next heir as soon as possible. It’s a real headache..."

Charles trailed off into silence, likely lost in his own thoughts.

"Man, I still feel so stifled. Why must the members of the Night’s Edge be targeted by the royals and nobles? And even when targeted, we have to work ourselves to the bone without a word of complaint. I just can't fathom it."

After a brief pause, he continued to grumble about the unfair treatment the Night’s Edge endured and the indifference of its members toward such injustices.

"Why dwell on it so much? At least you don’t hate these stubborn fools. If you ask me, if the reason I’m leaving the capital is because of all the filth here..."

"Then the reason I haven't left this den of trouble yet is because of you, Edward, the Professor, the Captain, these friends, and those stubborn but admirable members of the Night’s Edge."

Wang Yu spoke with his usual straightforward nature. While he knew he could never be like these members of the Night’s Edge, that didn't stop him from admiring those who fought for their ideals and the things they held dear.

Charles shook his head, helplessly resting his forehead in his palm.

"Fine. I actually find myself agreeing with you. Perhaps I am a fool as well."