They Wanted a Healer, I Gave Them Trauma

Ahrie, one bite away from finishing, noticed Shiven had vanished again.

He stopped mid-chew.

"Thahh soh owb ah— heh wanished awgaim… pff!" he mumbled through a mouthful, then sighed.

He looked utterly bored.

Turning to the contest organizer, he called out, "Yooo… what's the prize?"

"Eh? Prize?" the man blinked.

"Uhuh…" Ahrie tilted his head, dumbfounded.

"There's no prize," the organizer said.

"Seriously?" Ahrie's face went flat.

"The prize is eating the boar—with no one to share it with," the man added proudly.

Ahrie just stared at him, expression saying why the hell did I waste my time here…

"FUKKKK!" He barked, storming off.

On his way out, he snatched the last bite of his boar and trudged back to the carriage.

He glanced at the crowd.

Booing. Jeering.

"Booo!" they shouted.

"This scum ate almost everything!"

"Didn't even share a bite—what a bastard!"

Ahrie's eyebrow twitched.

No prize. Lost 350 bronze coins. And now this stupid crowd?

"HAAAA!?" his voice exploded through the camp, loud enough to startle the birds nearby.

He snatched the paper and pen used for the contestant list and stomped toward the mob.

"You!" he pointed at a man in front.

"M-me?"

"Yeah, you! What's your name!?"

"Uh—Jay?"

Ahrie scribbled it down furiously.

Then pointed at a woman next. "And you?"

"Akiko…"

He kept going, jotting down names.

When he was done, he turned around—grinning.

"You better pray I don't see your faces at my tent… KEKEKEKEK!"

Min burst out laughing beside him.

The crowd turned their glare on him now.

Min smirked, cracking his knuckles.

"You… you… you… and you…" he pointed across the group. "You're all fucked."

The camp went silent.

Then—

All heads slowly turned toward the slim horse.

It stood beside the boar carcass… munching its last bite.

Then raised its head proudly.

NEEEIGHHH! (THIS IS IT! I'M DONE! I GAVE UP!)

The commentator hyped the crowd, voice booming like an arena host.

"OHOHO! WHAT'S THIS—THE HORSE REMAINS STRONG!"

The slim horse, trembling, still bit into the boar.

NEIGHHHH! (I can't take it anymore…)

"WE HAVE A WINNER!!!" the commentator roared.

The entire camp exploded in cheers.

"HORSE! HORSE! HORSE!"

They swarmed the poor creature, tossing it up and down

The slim horse smiled proudly mid-air—mane fluttering, eyes sparkling like it actually achieved something.

Then—

They threw it aside and swarmed the leftover boar meat.

Chomping, grabbing, laughing.

Then they tossed him aside and dove straight into the boar it barely touched.

Turns out they were just happy he didn't eat much.

The sun was setting as they wrapped up cleaning the area.

"Rest well, everyone. Tomorrow we won't be stopping for lunch," the man leading the carriage announced.

One by one, they settled down for the night—everyone except the few assigned to stand watch.

The nightwatcher scanned the dark tree line, eyes sharp for movement.

Crack.

Her grip tightened on her staff.

The bushes rustled—something stepped out.

"AHHH!"

BONK!

Whatever it was dropped to the ground with a thud.

As the dust cleared, Shiven's face was buried in the dirt.

"I'm… fucking back…" he groaned.

Morning came. The one leading them called roll and the column moved out.

A week of travel followed: march until afternoon, make camp, night watch, repeat.

At last the border came into view.

Min stood up, eyes bright. "So that's Embergarde," he muttered.

BOOM!

A distant explosion rattled the air. The Glimmerfen seekers went silent—worried, tense.

Ahrie and Min? Grinning like kids

"Looks fun," Ahrie said.

"They're already starting," Min answered.

"Been like that for decades," the coachman shrugged.

They reached the gate. Guards checked papers and let them through. The seekers assigned to the front line climbed down and gathered.

"This is it, Min. Good luck," the coachman said.

Min hopped out. "I'm off, bud."

Ahrie moved to follow—until the coachman stopped him.

"Not you, sir. You're posted in the healer's tent."

Min looked back at Ahrie. Ahrie flashed a grin.

"Once I hit my quota, I'm punching you in the face," he said.

Min just laughed and walked toward the frontline.

Min and the Glimmerfen seekers charged toward the southern gate—the one facing the forest.

A wave of bodies rushing forward, blades drawn, shouts echoing.

Ahrie watched from his carriage, eyes following the madness.

The carriage rolled on, creaking through the strange city.

BOOM!

Another explosion shook the streets.

A hunter chased a monster that had slipped past the walls. Others joined in—laughing, yelling.

Meanwhile, the villagers barely flinched.

A few got knocked down by the blast, brushed the dirt off, and just… kept walking.

"What a weird-ass place," Ahrie muttered, grinning like he'd found home.

The carriage turned toward the southern side too, stopping near a cluster of white tents.

The healer's post.

Ahrie hopped down, eyes still on the battlefield haze beyond the gate.

Ahrie and Akayra hopped off the carriage.

"Good luck to both of you!" the coachman said, waving as he drove off.

"Are you two from Glimmerfen?" a man in uniform asked.

"Yessir," Ahrie replied.

Akayra just gave a short nod.

"Perfect timing," the man said, flipping through a clipboard. "We're short on healers right now, so head to your assigned tents."

He pointed rapidly in all directions. "Ahrie, you're number twenty-four — go there, then there, then turn there. Got it?"

Ahrie blinked. "…Yeah, sure."

"And you—Akayra, right? You're thirty-seven. It's just over there."

Akayra gave a polite nod and walked off.

Ahrie stood still, staring blankly at the maze of tents ahead.

"…There, there, and where the hell is there supposed to be?" he muttered.

Min and the Glimmerfen seekers stepped straight onto the battlefield.

"Woaa…" Min muttered, eyes wide.

Chaos. Absolute chaos.

Seekers clashing with monsters in every direction—1v1s, 2v2s, full-blown brawls.

Some even looked turn-based.

"Da fuck—are they insane or something?" Min whispered, half in awe, half terrified.

Ahrie wanders the tent maze — turn, turn, turn — and gets lost.

"Dang it!" he mutters.

After a few minutes he spots the sign. "ARRRRGG, FINALLYY!" He barges in.

Inside sits a boy, bright-eyed, waiting.

"Hello! You must be Healer Ahrie." The boy leaps up and offers a hand. "I'm Leo."

Ahrie blinks, grunts, and shakes it. Leo's smile breaks into tears. "I heard you have a hundred-quota per contract. After that you can go to the frontlines…" He sniffles, choking up like a proud fan.

Ahrie's brain: Da fuck is this? —but he keeps a straight face while Leo grips his hand way too hard.

"I'll help however I can, sir," Leo says, voice wobbling.

Ahrie looks around the tent: stacks of bandages, pain relievers, rows of mana potions.

He stretches, cracks his neck, then throws his arms wide.

"All right—let's smack their faces!" he bellows.

"Smack what?" Leo asks, confused.

Ahrie grins. "You'll see."

They flipped the sign outside his tent: AVAILABLE.

A voice echoed through the camp,

"Tent number 24 is available! I repeat—tent number 24 is available!"

Three people lined up almost instantly.

Leo peeked out. "First one, come on in!"

The second and third patients craned their necks to see inside.

"Wuut… it's a guy?" Patient #2 muttered.

"We don't have a choice, do we…" Patient #3 sighed.

"I wanted it to be a girl…" #2 bit his shirt in frustration.

Inside, a young man with burn marks across his left shoulder stepped in.

"Good day, Sir Healer."

Ahrie was busy arranging supplies, back turned. He spun around, spotted the wound—

"Ohh hell—what happened to your shoulder?"

Leo grabbed a wet cloth. "You should ask how he got his wounds, Sir Ahrie—"

Then whoosh! A gust of air rushed past him. Leo froze, turning.

Ahrie's hand was glowing faint blue.

He stood up, eyes locked on the patient.

The patient blinked, uneasy. "W-what's wrong, Sir Healer?"

Ahrie threw a clean, straight punch at his face.

The boy barely dodged.

"Eh!?" Leo yelped.

"Sir Healer?!" the patient shouted, confused.

Outside, #3 nudged #2. "Did he just punch him?"

#2 shrugged. "I dunno, man…"

Ahrie sighed, relaxed his stance. "Damn. Almost had the fly."

"Oh… a fly," the patient said, nodding nervously.

"So it was just a fly…" #3 muttered.

"So it seems…" #2 replied.

Ahrie tried again.

Patient #1 dodged—again.

"S-sir?!"

Everyone froze.

Ahrie stood straight, completely unfazed.

"That mosquito's annoying."

"Mosquitoes…?" they all echoed in confusion.

Ahrie squinted at the patient. Just get hit already!

"What's this on your shoulder…" Ahrie muttered, brushing at the burn.

"Dust? Or something?" the patient asked.

Ahrie grabbed his collar. His hand began to glow—energy humming through his arm.

[P.A.I.N.]

WHAM!

A clean hit to the face. The boy went flying, unconscious.

Leo stood frozen.

Patients #2 and #3 bolted toward the exit.

"Okaaay! Patient #1 healed successfully," Ahrie muttered proudly.

Leo blinked at the unconscious boy—the burn marks were fading, skin knitting back together.

"Eh…?"

Ahrie stretched, cracking his neck. "One down. Ninety-nine to go."

"S-sir," Leo stammered, "if word gets out you heal like that… no one's ever coming here again."

Ahrie's smile dropped. "FUUUCK! GRAB THOSE SHIITS—QUICKLY!"