Accidental Healer

Finding the next dungeon was no picnic.

We spent days searching. No signs, no clues. Just trees, dirt, and a growing sense that I was wasting my time.

Four entire days. And what was worse, still no monsters in sight. Which meant it was four long days of just walking through the forest. It wasn't all bad. The air was fresh, the sun was warm, and the aroma of wild flowers and pine made it bearable.

But it was hard to shake the thought that others were leaving me behind. My frustration was reaching its peak and I was about to give up—when I had the thought to open my status screen.

It's lucky that I did because not far off nestled between a cluster of trees, something shimmered. I blinked. Once. Twice. If not for my status screen, I would have walked right past.

It was hard not to feel annoyed with the lack of a map. It seemed like an obvious feature in most games. So far? No such luck. So stupid. "Go clear three dungeons…good luck finding them. Cue evil laugh."

The dungeon's recommended level was 10, but with my stats stacked well past Level 15, I felt like I was punching at level 25.

The enemies inside? Dire apes. Massive, mutated, twisted reflections of something almost human.

And that was the weird part. They weren't just mindless beasts.

They had roles. Some worked wood. Some gathered supplies. Others stood guard.

It wasn't just combatants. It was a society. And that unsettled me more than any monster had so far.

The faction leader was a dire ape wizard—a hulking brute wreathed in crackling magic.

All the good the apes size did it—Mischief tore out his throat without a challenge. The fight lasted two seconds. Maybe three. I only gained one level.

sigh.

If I'd remembered to cast weak barrier, the entire run would've been flawless. Instead, I took a single hit. A stray lightning bolt.

One hit point lost. That was nothing. But it still left a bitter taste in my mouth. No perfect run.

I pulled up my status screen.

[Dungeon Completed.]

[Objectives: 2 of 3 Cleared.]

[Rewards: 15 Universal Bronze Coins.]

[Bonus: Seed Assortment Acquired.]

…Seeds? I blinked. "Seriously? This whole run and I get… plants?

***

The last dungeon left me feeling gross.

Just like the goblins, the dire apes attacked on sight. No hesitation, Just mindless hostility.

Worse, I was pretty sure the dungeon wouldn't close until I completed the objective.

[Objective: Kill Everything.]

That seemed to be the theme. Kill, move forward, repeat.

So–I killed. They were just dungeon monsters anyway. It wasn't supposed to matter.

Like usual, my thoughts drifted as Mischief and I made the trek back. Then, out of nowhere, he stopped.

I barely caught myself before I ran into him. "What is it?"

Mischief lifted his head, nose twitching. He inhaled, slow and deep. I tensed, waiting.

Then—without hesitation—he nudged me. I frowned. "What?"

He nudged me again. Stronger this time. His eyes locked onto mine. I exhaled slowly, my pulse picking up.

"You smell something?" I muttered. Mischief's nod was sharp. Certain.

I stared at him. A scent. He had nudged me twice. What did that mean?

"Are you catching the scent of another person?"

A nod.

I swallowed, my mind raced with possibilities. Was this good? Or was this bad?

A human meant potential help, information, maybe even an ally.

But it also meant potential danger. What if they were hostile? What if they weren't human anymore?

I ran a hand through my hair. "Alright, big guy," I muttered. "If it's a human, they probably won't react well to you showing up first. Let me check it out."

Actually I better be sure.. "Humans are complicated. Please don't eat them without letting me know."

Mischief huffed. I wasn't sure if that meant approval or protest.

Friend or threat? I was about to find out.

***

Back at camp nothing looked out of place.

The fire was low, flickering in the pre-dawn air. My storage chest sat undisturbed. Even the makeshift lean-to I'd half-heartedly thrown together remained untouched.

But my Sense stat wasn't fooled. There was someone here.

I didn't look in their direction. Not yet. Instead, I went about my usual routine.

I updated my map, marking the lands we'd scouted, and transferred loot from my bag to my storage chest, pausing here and there to make it look like I wasn't aware of anything unusual.

Then—only when everything was settled—I turned toward the presence I'd felt.

I didn't draw my weapon. Didn't posture. Just tilted my head slightly.

"Okay, I know you're out there." I tried to keep my tone light, friendly. "I'm not looking for trouble."

I waited. Fifteen seconds passed. Then—a rustle in the grass.

A middle-aged man–wearing camo pants and a mostly unbuttoned flannel shirt exposing tufts of chest hair–rose from the tall brush about twenty-five feet away. He stood slowly, carefully, hands raised.

He was armed with a bow and quiver on his back and a large knife at his hip.

It was very clear I'm human. Why hadn't he immediately announced himself? Why stay hidden in the grass?

"Hey there!" I called, keeping my tone light. "I'm Layton. Gotta say, it's great to see another person out here."

The man smiled, hands still raised. "Good to meet you, Layton."

"You can put those down," I reassured him.

"Fair enough." He chuckled, lowering his arms. "I wasn't expecting to see anyone out here. You can never be too careful."

"The name is Richard. Glad to meet you."

Richard seemed friendly enough. I wasn't fully convinced.

"Is it just you out here?" I asked, hoping that he didn't take it the wrong way. "I've been scouting for around a week, and you're the first person I've seen."

Richard smiled.

"I'm not surprised. My group is a bit far off." He took a step towards me. "I take it you're familiar with territories by now?"

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I nodded, keeping my response neutral. "Somewhat."

So far all I knew about Richard was that he was watching my camp.

"That's good," Richard continued. "Have you traveled much outside your starting territory?"

I shook my head. "Not really. Just far enough to get a rough idea of the borders."

"Well, that explains it then." Richard scratched at his chin. "You'd have to cross an entire unoccupied territory before you reached us."

I blinked. That was… far. One full unclaimed territory? I sucked at knowing distances, but I'd wager my territory was at least twenty miles wide.

"Huh. Pretty far from home. What brought you all the way out here?"

Richard shrugged. "Have you stumbled across any dungeons yet?"

I narrowed my eyes slightly. First hiding in grass and now avoiding the question? Not a great first impression Richard.

"I've seen a couple."

"Good, so you know how you need to clear them." He spoke with pride. "We had that objective too—took down all three of ours."

He rested his hands on his hips, shoulders loose. It didn't seem like he considered me much of a threat. So why hide?

"It wasn't easy," he added. "But we got it done. Now we're working on the second bit."

"The second bit?"

Richard's grin didn't waver. "Yeah, but I wouldn't worry about that. You've still got your dungeons to clear first."

Okay. That was twice now. First, he dodged my question about why he was here.

Now, he was sidestepping the topic of his group's next objective.

I folded my arms. "If your people have another objective, what are you doing two whole territories away?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. We've got things handled."

Annoyed, I stayed silent, letting the pause stretch. Then, finally—he tilted his head slightly, glancing around.

"You know, before the world changed—I was a bit of a hunter."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Mhm. Naturally I chose a class suited to those skills." Richard's gaze flicked toward the treeline. "I chose Archer, what about you?"

"Healer." I saw no reason to hide what class I chose. Even if this man was a threat, I trusted in my own abilities. He sure seemed confident though.

Richard laughed.

"Boy, you're in it now." He shook his head. "We've got a healer in our group. Not much of a fighter, but she's saved our asses more than once."

Then, Richard's eyes flicked to the ground. "I appreciate you answering my questions—maybe you can help me out."

He knelt slightly, dragging a finger along the dirt.

"A day ago, as I was scouting about, I happened to stumble onto some of the biggest mountain lion tracks I've ever seen." He held up his hands, thumb and forefingers making a wide circle.

"Found them right on the edge of this territory." He pointed backwards. "I Followed them all around the mountains."

"Funny thing is…"

His eyes lifted to me.

"…they lead right here."

Where are you going with this Richard?

"So—I start thinking."

He stood, dusting off his hands, he began to pace.

"Some unlucky person sets up camp, builds a little shelter." He waves a hand at my lean-to.

"Then along comes the big mean cat." He shrugs. "The poor bastard gets eaten. The cat takes over his camp."

The pacing stopped.

"Well. That was my theory."

His smile widened.

"So I wait. Hiding right here in the grass. Figured I'd see the big cat come home."

I didn't love where this story was going.

"Instead? I found you. You don't look much like a cat."

"I see." I met his gaze. "Well, I hate to disappoint you, but that particular cat is off-limits."

Richard kept smiling. But something shifted. A shadow fell over his demeanor.

"Oh really?" He asked skeptically. "And why would that be?"

The hair on my neck bristled.

"It's a long story but we're friends. In fact why don't you come sit—" my voice trails off.

"Friends huh?" His fingers twitched. "Well I hate to break it to you but that's not going to work."

Slowly, deliberately he shrugs his bow off his shoulder.

My jaw drops.

Seriously?

Exhaling slowly and I keep my stance relaxed. "Richard, let's settle it down ok? We just met. why don't we talk some more?"

His grip didn't loosen. What the hell is wrong with this guy?

I gestured toward the fire. "Can we sit down? I've got some moose meat here. We cook up a meal, you can find something else to hunt, and we both walk away happy."

Richard laughed.

Then—he pulled an arrow from his quiver.

"I have a better idea." His voice was calm. Matter-of-fact. "You realize—I'm going to get what I want—and you don't tell me what I can and can't hunt."

At this point, you might say I was starting to lose my good nature with Richard.

I sighed, shaking my head. "Maybe we should let Mischief weigh in on this?"

He narrowed his eyes.

As if on cue–a low–menacing growl rumbled through the clearing. Fifteen feet to Richard's right, a mass of muscle and fur rose from the tall grass.

Richard froze.

Well, damn. When the hell did he get there? I could've sworn he was still in the trees.

Richard reacted fast. His bow snapped up—he knocked an arrow and let it fly.

A faint ethereal glow trailed the shot—a skill. A piercing attack. With a thought I covered my friend in a barrier.

The arrow slammed into an invisible wall. Barrier held.

Richard didn't stop. He fell back, firing three more rapid shots. I cast Barrier before each impact, reinforcing it every time.

Mischief?

Didn't move. Didn't flinch. He just watched..

What was he waiting for?

Was this because of what I told him earlier? Humans are complicated. Don't eat them unless I say so?

Either way, he wasn't attacking.

"Alright, that's enough." My voice cut through the chaos. "Richard, can we talk? Please?"

He stopped firing. But he didn't lower his bow. In some ways I didn't necessarily blame Richard. Mischief had a very intimidating presence and I had no idea he would pop up right next to the guy.

I don't blame him for feeling the need to defend himself. It was a stretch since he already pulled his weapon on me, but I'd rather give him a second chance.

I lifted my hands slightly. "Look, no harm, no foul. Put the weapon down, and we figure out how to move forward."

Richard's fingers twitched on the bowstring. His eyes were wild. Darting between me and Mischief. He probably hadn't expected the barriers. I could almost see the wheels turning, piecing the situation together.

"Just put down the bow, we don't have to fight, it's all just a misunderstanding."

For a second I thought I was getting through to him.

Nope. The bow vanished and his hand snapped to his belt, yanking out a knife. He charged. Not at Mischief, but at me.

Unbelievable. This guy really wasn't going to stop.

He must've realized I was the source of the barrier. He knows I'm a healer and probably figures I'm an easy target. That's what this was.

So instead of shooting, he was going for the source. The reasoning didn't add up though. He couldn't get through the barrier on Mischief, why would he think he'd have better luck on me?

He wasn't thinking clearly. His face was wild. Desperate.

The knife plunged forward right at my chest. I didn't even try to block it. It came within inches of my body before the barrier sent his attack bouncing off wild.

I reached out, grabbed the wrist he was holding the knife in–and squeezed. Bone cracked. The attack proved what I already suspected. This man wasn't a threat to me in a fight.

The knife clattered to the ground. Richard screamed.

"You said you were a healer!" He stumbled backward, tripping on his own feet, face sweaty and pale.

I sighed. "I am a healer."

He clutched his broken wrist to his chest. His lips moved, but nothing coherent came out.

Part of me could possibly reason why this man felt the need to attack. But it was a thin argument. Sure Mischief had surprised him, his fight or flight kicked in. But since then? All I've done is defend myself.

"Look, this isn't the best start. I don't blame you for feeling like you had to defend yourself." I raised my hands. "Can we please just talk?"

"What? After I just tried to kill you? You'd just let bygones be bygones?" He popped a potion, using his teeth to rip out the stopper. Choked it down.

A second later—his wrist snapped back into place.

He barely even paused before summoning another knife—and charged again.

At this point? I'd had enough. I trusted my Barrier to take the hit. Then—I threw a single punch.

My fist slammed into Richard's gut. His entire body lifted off the ground. He collapsed in a heap. His knees buckled.

He doubled over—and vomited blood. I stared at him. Then at Mischief. Then back at him.

"Richard, I don't get what's happening here." He coughed weakly, spitting blood onto the dirt.

"All I've asked to do is talk. You aren't going to win this fight, so let's work this out."

He hacked up some more blood.

I sighed. "Here." I lifted a hand. "Let me help."

Weak heal lit up his body in a faint golden light. Richard stiffens. His eyes—wide.

I tilted my head. "…What?"

He stayed hunched over. Like he didn't believe the pain in his insides could actually be gone.

Slowly, carefully—he stood. His fingers pressed lightly into his ribs—like he was double-checking that his organs were still in place.

Finally, he looked at me.

"…What the hell was that?"

I shrugged. "A gesture of goodwill."

He scoffed. "Really kid? Come off it."

"You're not giving me a whole lot of options here Richard."

Richard barely heard me. His mind was somewhere else.

"Must be pretty high with healing like that…" he murmured.

Then he muttered something strange.

"…Damn. That's a lot of XP. I would probably level up twice."

I frowned. Something about the way he said that felt wrong.

I stepped forward slightly. "What do you mean by that?"

He looked up at me from his knees eye's hungry. This was not a fight Richard could win. But he'd moved past reason.

That's when I knew—this was only going to end one way.