St Chaos Healer

"Are you absolutely certain they got it right? What if their equipment malfunctioned or something?" my mother questioned, her hand resting on her chin as if she were playing detective.

I let out a sigh of exasperation, "We've been through this, Mom."

"Did you follow the correct procedure to circulate your mana?" she persisted, sounding like an investigator on a mission.

"Mom, for the fifth time, yes!" I replied, my weariness evident.

Ever since we left the ceremony hall, my mother had transformed into a relentless detective, bombarding me with questions about my newfound abilities.

Continuing her relentless questioning, she pressed, "Are you sure—"

My father, sensing my frustration, intervened, "Hold on now! What's done is done. There's no need to dwell on it. We should be celebrating."

We were currently seated around a table in a cozy tavern located in the outer district. Having returned to the inn where we were staying, we dropped off our belongings before heading out for a family dinner to mark my acceptance into the Royal Academy.

However, what should have been a joyous celebration had turned into an interrogation, with my mother struggling to come to terms with the reality of my new healing abilities.

"Here's your order: Fried Northern-Style Snapper, Deep-Fried Vegetables & Pork, and our house special Deep Fried Ethereal Cave Duck marinated with Dew Honey Sauce, along with 2 House special Cider ale," the waitress announced, elegantly placing the three exquisite dishes along with the drinks on our table.

The moment the dishes were set down, the tantalizing aroma wafted into my nostrils, immediately triggering my hunger. All three dishes presented a captivating sight, and my appetite roared to life. For a brief moment, all my worries seemed to melt away as I was consumed by the prospect of savoring the delicious feast before me.

"Enjoy your meal," the waitress bid before departing.

"Let's dig in!" I exclaimed excitedly and reached for the spoons.

"Wait, Benjamin! First, we must thank the Lord for this delicious meal," my mother reminded me, her tone edged with a hint of irritation.

"Yeah, yeah," I replied nonchalantly.

In an unexpected move, she playfully pulled my ear, earning a chuckle from me. "One time yes is enough."

"Alright!"

We offered a brief prayer of gratitude before finally indulging in the feast before us. The dishes presented a symphony of flavors, with succulent and tender meats complemented by a harmonious blend of spices. Each bite was a delight for the taste buds, and I found myself devouring the food as if I hadn't eaten in weeks.

"This is really good," my mother chimed in, expressing her approval.

"Of course it is. I ordered the finest dishes this tavern has to offer. Our son has been selected to join the Royal Academy, after all," my dad replied with a proud grin.

However, my mother's brow furrowed suddenly. "But still, I can't believe the results-"

"Mom, why did you keep your fire mage history a secret all this time?" I interjected, redirecting the conversation.

I could see the surprise in her eyes. I was taking charge now; the tables had turned.

She managed a wry smile. "Well, that was in the past. It wasn't intentional to hide it."

A hint of sadness flashed in her expression. "After failing my ascension ritual to become a true mage, I lost my fire abilities. The backlash from that failure was so severe that I was nearly killed, and my mana core was damaged beyond repair."

"Ascension ritual?" I inquired, puzzled. "Is that related to the ascension ceremony?"

My mother shook her head. "The ascension ceremony is an annual event held by the magic council to keep track of the country's mage population. The ascension ritual I'm talking about is when a mage's mana core attempts to evolve into a mana heart."

"So, you mean you were a 4th-tier fire elemental mage?!" I asked with genuine surprise in my voice.

My mother beamed. "Absolutely! I was a renowned fire mage, having completed over 100 adventurous missions. They used to call me 'The Red Boom’ because of my formidable abilities."

I couldn't help but exclaim, "Why did you never tell me about your adventures? Why keep it a secret?"

She let out a sigh tinged with sorrow. "I wanted you to have a normal childhood. But watching you train so diligently in the woods from such a young age, I began to change my mind. I was afraid that if I revealed I was a mage who failed her ascension ritual and lost her powers, you might be disappointed in your own mother."

"That's not true!" I retorted, a touch of frustration in my voice. "You keep assuming things without giving me a chance to understand. Seriously."

My father chuckled at our exchange, perhaps relieved that this topic had finally been settled between the two of us.

"So, what exactly is this ascension ritual?" I inquired after taking a bite from my plate.

My father attempted to intervene, "Benji, perhaps now is not the best-"

But my mother cut him off with a reassuring smile. "It's okay. I'm ready to talk about it."

"As my son embarks on the path of a mage, it's my duty as a mother to prepare him for this challenging journey," she explained, her tone softening.

Despite her willingness, I could sense that discussing this topic was still painful for her. Yet, she started recounting her experience with the ascension ritual.

During her twenties, my mother had achieved the 4th tier of mage abilities. At that time, she continued to embark on various adventures alongside her loyal adventuring party to further refine her skills. It was during one of these missions that her mana core underwent an unexpected reaction, indicating its readiness to mature. Yet, the transformation from a mere mana core to a full-fledged mana heart demanded an overwhelming influx of mana, beyond what a mage's individual reserves could supply. To address this, the mana core initiated a process known as the 'Ascension Ritual'.

The Ascension Ritual involves the mage directly absorbing ambient mana from nature itself. However, nature does not relinquish its mana without challenge; it subjects the mage to a series of trials.

During my mother's own ascension ritual, the weather underwent a dramatic transformation. Thunderclouds gathered ominously, and fierce winds swept through the area. In response, my mother assumed a meditative posture, meticulously guiding the tumultuous influx of mana circulating within her mana reserves throughout her body.

The thunderclouds lashed out, striking her with bolts of lightning. Fortunately, she had equipped herself with defensive gear and potions to endure the ordeal, although the experience was undeniably agonizing.

Meanwhile, her adventuring party stood on alert, forming a protective perimeter around her to prevent any disturbances.

Initially, everything seemed to be proceeding perfectly, and she even sensed a shift within her mana core, as if it were on the cusp of a significant transformation. She was remarkably close to a breakthrough.

Tragically, a Rockjaw Bear happened to be in the vicinity. Startled by the sudden environmental shift, the bear, previously unnoticed by her party, spotted my mother meditating and launched an attack.

Rockjaw Bears stand about the height of a one-story building when on their hind legs. With a powerful swipe of its paw, the bear sent my mother hurtling through the air, crashing forcefully onto the ground.

Due to the strenuous trial, my mother was already considerably weakened. The bear's assault rendered her unconscious. Compounding the situation, the volatile mana that nature had gathered ceased to circulate within her body, causing her mana core to become overloaded and damaged.

Unaware of her plight, the bear continued its assault on her unconscious form. It was only when her adventuring party eventually realized that something was amiss and rushed to her aid that the attack was halted. Unfortunately, by that point, irreversible damage had already been done.

Her comrades swiftly transported her to the most skilled healers, barely managing to salvage her life. Yet, despite their efforts, they were unable to mend the harm inflicted upon her mana core. This unfortunate outcome marked an untimely end to her career as a mage.

Her fellow adventurers were plagued by guilt, feeling responsible for their inability to shield her from harm. Remarkably, my mother harbored no resentment towards them for their perceived failure. Subsequently, she made the difficult decision to retire from the adventuring life.

After marrying my father, my mother chose to settle down in our village.

"Ah, those were truly wonderful days," my mother sighed nostalgically.

From what I gather, the ascension ritual is a rather torturous affair, courtesy of Mother Nature's peculiar sense of sadism. If I intend to grow, I'll eventually need to come to terms with its harshness.

"But how did you and Dad meet?" I inquired just before taking a bite of my food.

A radiant smile illuminated my mother's countenance, "You won't believe this, but I used to be a regular customer at your father's shop. Back then, he had a modest establishment, not filled with all this antique paraphernalia."

My father managed a slightly wry smile, "Now, now, don't belittle my collection, my dear."

"Anyway," my mother continued, "our first encounter was when I went to buy some bomb cartridges for a project I was working on."

I halted mid-bite, suddenly intrigued.

"Ah, I remember it so clearly," my father chimed in, "You marched into my shop demanding those cartridges at a price that would hardly buy a loaf of bread. Negotiating with your mother was a battle in itself."

My curiosity piqued, and I looked at my mother with an incredulous expression. "Bomb cartridges? You used to make bombs?"

My mother turned towards me, about to explain, “Well, you see the thing is that my flames are—”

Abruptly, her voice trailed off and she appeared to be staring behind me, her expression shifting to one of shock, almost as if beads of sweat were forming.

I took a bite of my food, chewing thoughtfully, and then turned around to glance over my shoulder. To my astonishment, there stood a pair of imposing thighs, encased in long knee socks and a garter belt.

Startled, I coughed on my food, my father quickly asked, “You alright, Benji? Have some water.”

I snatched the glass and took a hurried sip, my eyes settling on the unexpected sight behind me.

Remarkably, my father didn't appear the least bit surprised by this apparition.

A refined and distinctly feminine voice sounded behind me, "I had to scour the entire city just to locate you. And here you are, stuffing yourself with food without a care."

Turning again, I was met with the gaze of a mysterious woman. She towered with an imposing height, her beauty undeniable even as she seemed to be addressing someone else entirely. Oddly, her eyes were concealed beneath a blindfold, adding an air of intrigue to her presence. Her attire was equally unconventional, a combination of long knee socks paired with a garter belt, a mini skirt, and a black tank top with pronounced sleeves. Atop her head rested a headdress reminiscent of that worn by church nuns, while on her back she bore an enigmatic metallic cross adorned with an array of gemstones.

One thing was abundantly clear: she was far from ordinary, and it was evident that provoking her would be inadvisable.

At this juncture, she tilted her head downward, her gaze fixed upon me. "Um, were you talking to us?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued.

"In point of fact, I was. You must be the renowned candidate Benjamin Almond, am I correct?" Her voice held an air of stern authority.

"Ah, yes, that's me," I replied with a swift nod.

"Very well. Pack your belongings." With a brisk motion, she handed me a letter. "This is the formal letter of invitation from the Grandmaster. You are directed to make your way to Celestia’s Mercy with utmost haste."

"Madam Ultear?" my mother interjected, a note of recognition in her voice.

"Well, isn't this surprising," she turned to my mother. "So, have you heard of me?"

There was a momentary flicker of surprise in her expression before she continued, "Greetings, Bethariana Boldigrio, fourth daughter of Viscount Malquerida. Your presence here is quite unexpected, especially considering you were presumed dead after a mishap during your adventures. A funeral was even held in your honor."

My mother sighed and replied, "Haha, it's good to see you too, Madam Ultear," her tone not refuting any of the claims.

"Well, there's much to catch up on, but that will have to wait." Ultear's attention shifted back to me. "And this young man must be your son, correct?"

Under her towering presence, I felt a bit pressured. Her blindfolded gaze seemed to bore into me, suffocating in its intensity. I couldn't help but wonder if that black cloth held some sort of mana-enhanced sight behind it.

Refusing to be intimidated, I met her gaze steadily.

"Allow me to properly introduce you," my mother intervened. "This is Ultear Cross, a truly renowned mage and a mentor who guided me in my youth."

Both my father and I exchanged surprised glances at this revelation.

"And this," my mother continued, "is my husband, Arthur." My father offered a polite greeting, to which Ultear replied in kind.

"Now, meet my son, Benjamin Almond." My mother turned toward me, prompting me to offer a small wave and a tentative, "Uh, hello."

"The pleasure is mine," Ultear responded before turning back to my mother. "You've truly settled down, Beth. I'm genuinely happy for you."

My mother's smile held a touch of solemnity as she stood up. "Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Bethenny Almond, a retired adventurer and now a commoner mother. The girl you mentioned, Betherina, has indeed departed from this world."

Ultear nodded in understanding, exhaling audibly. With a regal posture, she continued, "That should clarify the current circumstances."

Confusion knitted my mother's brow. "Circumstances?"

"Just a minor alteration of plans. We're relocating, and we need to do so promptly," she declared in a commanding tone.

“Is there an issue?” my concerned mother inquired.

Ultear simply placed her hands on her hips, her tone unwavering. "Nothing you need to concern yourselves with. Let's just get moving."

With quick efficiency, we settled the bill and left the tavern. Ultear took the lead, and we followed in close pursuit.

As I glanced at the sealed letter in my hand, it struck me that Ultear's words might indeed hold validity. Still, it was a peculiar sight to see a woman like her. The image I had of Celestia’s Mercy students was quite different – docile girls with healing abilities. The blindfolded figure with the large metallic cross on her back was certainly out of the ordinary.

Throughout our time at the tavern, the patrons had gazed at Ultear. Some of the men seemed captivated, not by their food, but by her presence.

Ultear swung open the tavern doors, and we filed out behind her.

Suddenly, she halted and extended her arm, a signal for us to stop. We obeyed and stood behind her, sensing an unusual tension in the air. The streets were eerily empty, and a sense of foreboding hung over the scene.

Then, she directed her gaze upward. "Listen up!" Her voice was commanding. "The Almond Family is now under the protection of Ultear Cross, Lieutenant of the Midgard Guild."

Glancing around, I saw nothing unusual. The street remained vacant, devoid of any sign of life.

Was she speaking to the wind? Or perhaps she was communicating with someone invisible?

Ultear set down her massive metallic cross, its gemstones shimmering with an otherworldly light. "If you even attempt to lay a finger on them, I will decimate you and your pitiful guild, the hounds of Viper Fangs. Your guild would be the next on the chopping block."

Though I was perplexed, one thing was clear – my family and I were in danger, and Ultear had been dispatched by Celestia’s Mercy to safeguard us.

My mother held me close in her arms, a protective gesture that communicated her unease. My father enveloped us both from behind, heightening our sense of security.

Yet, where were the adversaries? What could Ultear perceive that we could not?

Ultear's grip on the cross tightened, and the colossal weapon began to emit an ethereal glow. Gemstones embedded in it began to radiate, and a gust of wind seemed to emanate from its direction. She was charging her weapon, preparing for an attack.

"You truly are testing my patience," Ultear muttered, her voice brimming with frustration.

Abruptly, a figure materialized out of thin air, poised on the rooftops across the street. Cloaked in shadow and wearing a mask and hood, the mysterious figure wielded twin swords.

But that was not all.

Numerous figures emerged, almost ghost-like, all perched on the rooftops. Dozens of them, dressed in a similar manner. They had been invisible moments ago, appearing only when Ultear prepared to strike.

Judging by their actions, it was clear that they weren't a friendly bunch.