Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Azel Zestringer (3)
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Azel's outward appearance had improved considerably now that he'd replenished some fluids. But even so, he still looked like a monster.
The soldier who had escorted Azel spoke up.
"Zail Centurion asked me to have this man examined."
'Examined?'
Azel tilted his head. It was a word he didn't know.
He had been listening carefully to the conversations around him since earlier, and this sort of thing happened often. The grammar and accents were almost the same as what he knew. From his perspective, it just felt a bit off here and there, like hearing a faint regional dialect.
Yet mixed in were words Azel didn't recognize.
For example, 'Military Doctor.' In Azel's era, there had been no such position in the military. Priests who had learned healing arts from temples simply followed the troops.
The word 'examination' was the same. They hadn't used such a technical term for when a healer treated a patient.
Because of that, when Azel listened to their conversations, his reactions sometimes slowed in a strange way, like someone who couldn't quite follow. He had to guess the meanings of unknown words.
'What's going on? Is it because this is a place I've never been? Or...'
As Azel pondered, the Military Doctor spoke.
"Hmm. Where'd you pick this guy up?"
"Well..."
The soldier explained the situation. The Military Doctor frowned.
"You think he was part of some black magic experiment or something?"
Hearing that, Azel thought.
'That's not a bad idea.'
Kidnapped by a black mage and subjected to torture-like experiments. That's why he ended up like this, and he couldn't remember who he was very well. He remembered his name, but everything else was hazy and fragmented...
That seemed like a pretty good excuse. It might even be more convincing than telling the straight truth.
The Military Doctor, who had been looking at Azel with a slightly frightened expression, soon placed his hand on Azel's forehead. A warm light rose from his fingertips and seeped into Azel's body.
'A healing arts practitioner.'
Healing arts practitioners were treated as a variant of mages. They accumulated specially prepared drugs in their bodies and then fused them with mana force to manifest their power.
'Not a priest, though...'
In Azel's era, all healing arts practitioners had been temple priests, and there hadn't been many of them. But the man before him didn't look like he served in any religious order.
'A non-priest healing arts practitioner holding the position of Military Doctor in the military?'
It was intriguing. Before Azel had fallen asleep, only temple priests could perform healing arts, and they were respected even by high-ranking officers in the military. But now—or at least with this man—it seemed different.
Soon the Military Doctor clicked his tongue.
"How is he even alive in this state?"
A healing arts practitioner could grasp the patient's condition through contact and supply healing power to the necessary areas to cure wounds and illnesses.
The state of Azel that the Military Doctor perceived was one where it was miraculous he was alive at all. Much less maintaining consciousness and walking on his own two feet—that was utterly impossible.
Amazed, he said to the soldier.
"Hey. This guy... forget everything else for now. Just give him some water and food."
"Yes?"
"He's in an extreme state of starvation. It's ridiculous that he's even conscious. You don't think of that first when you see him like this?"
"Well... he's too scary to think of him that way."
"I guess he does look more like a monster than a person."
Azel felt slightly hurt by the Military Doctor's words. Monster? Even if he looked like this now, he was a man who had once captured the hearts of many women.
"Go to the kitchen and ask them to make something easy to digest. Like soup."
"Understood."
"And this guy probably can't move much, so bring it here."
"Yes. But he walked here just fine..."
"Does that look like he did it without any strain?"
The soldier was at a loss for words.
Once the soldier left, the Military Doctor said to Azel.
"Want some water?"
Azel nodded eagerly. He couldn't get enough water.
Watching Azel drink carefully, the Military Doctor said.
"I don't know who you are or where you're from, but don't push yourself. No matter if you've learned Spirit Order."
"..."
"Don't look at me like that because you're scared. I'm a healing arts practitioner. I can tell what a patient has trained in."
'No, I wasn't looking because I was scared...'
Azel had only been looking out of interest because the Military Doctor had recognized it. But the Military Doctor seemed to mistake it for wariness or a glare.
'Just how bad do I look...?'
At this point, Azel wanted to see for himself. He said.
"A wide... bowl... with water... do you have...?"
"Hm? Why? No, never mind. Here."
The Military Doctor stopped Azel from struggling to speak and filled a washbasin with water. Azel peered into the surface and flinched at his reflection.
'Whoa, I really do look like a monster.'
He deserved to be treated like one. It even made him want to praise Zail's character for treating him like a person at first sight.
'Damn. Where did my marble-sculpted body go...?'
Comparing his past self to now brought tears to his eyes.
'At least I didn't go bald.'
His red hair, which even he had been proud of, had grown long. It was quite dry and unkempt, but still there.
The Military Doctor said.
"You didn't know what you looked like?"
Azel nodded.
The Military Doctor said.
"Hmm. I don't know what you've been through, but it must not have been ordinary."
Soon the soldier brought steaming hot soup. Azel took it and carefully sipped spoonful by spoonful.
It was just soup, but with each spoonful, he felt his body changing. Even this slight replenishment of fluids and nutrients brought noticeable vitality.
Watching quietly, the Military Doctor said.
"I'm Rick Boren. What's your name?"
Azel, about to answer immediately, hesitated as something occurred to him. He pressed a hand to his forehead and frowned.
"Name..."
"Yeah. Your name."
"Azel... Zestringer...?"
"Azel Zestringer?"
"Probably..."
He answered vaguely to plant the impression that his memories were uncertain.
Zestringer was also his original surname. He had been a commoner who was ennobled as Marquess Karzark for defeating the Dragon Demon King Atein, and after that, he had been called Azel Karzark both publicly and privately.
Rick asked.
"Probably...? So your memories are uncertain?"
Azel nodded. Rick frowned.
"You must have been through something terrible."
"Mage..."
"Hm?"
"A mage... did this to me... I don't remember clearly... but..."
"Ah."
Rick's expression darkened.
He felt guilty for having thrown out the comment so casually, realizing it had hit the mark. If Azel had truly gone through that, it wasn't something to mention lightly.
Of course, that was exactly what Azel had aimed for. Seeing Rick's expression, he apologized inwardly.
'Sorry. But it's easier for both of us to accept it this way.'
Unaware of Azel's ulterior motives, Rick said with a sympathetic look.
"Hmm. Rest here in the barracks today. I'll have the soldiers bring your meals. In your current state, there's nothing more I can do."
Azel nodded.
4
That day, Azel made do with two meals of just soup and water, then slept deeply. He actually wanted to eat more, but Rick had judged that suddenly eating a lot in his condition could cause problems, no matter how hungry he was.
'A reasonable judgment, so I can't argue.'
In truth, Azel was confident he could handle much more.
Though his Spirit Veins had completely dried up, the body control techniques he'd gained from training Spirit Order hadn't vanished. But he couldn't explain that, so he quietly followed the advice.
Even so, after just one day, Azel's appearance had changed noticeably. Some life returned to his cracked, desiccated skin, and his body, which had been nothing but bones wrapped in hide, had plumped up a bit.
As his body began to recover somewhat, Azel meditated to grasp his condition more clearly.
'This is insane.'
All the power he had built up before falling asleep was gone.
His tough, trained muscles were completely gone, and the Spirit Veins that had overflowed with power he could barely contain had dried up entirely. Even the Life Circles, which those who had mastered Spirit Order used as their power base, had all vanished.
'Even the Life Circles are gone.'
He had thought the Life Circles would remain even if the Spirit Veins dried. But apparently, during the long sleep, he had even consumed the mana force that formed them to sustain the hibernation.
How long had he been asleep? The more time passed, the more urgently he wondered.
In any case, he had to start from scratch. He needed to fill his withered Spirit Veins with mana force to revive them and rebuild the Life Circles to regain his former power.
'At least the curse is gone, so I should be grateful for that?'
Kallos's prediction had been spot on.
By mimicking a dragon's hibernation for his long sleep, Azel had successfully overcome the curse. His body no longer bore the Dragon Demon King's curse that devoured life.
'Yeah. That's enough.'
Azel decided not to ask for more. He had already paid the price. He had many questions, but for now, he would focus on what needed to be done.
Azel immediately began retraining in Spirit Order.
Spirit Order training involved constructing specific mental images to guide the mind and body into a certain state. Then, in that state, one resonated with the mana in the air, absorbed the resulting energy, and filled the Spirit Veins.
Mana.
It was the energy source filling the atmosphere. Both a warrior's Spirit Order and a mage's magic were based on mana force generated by resonating the mind with mana.
What was known about mana was that it reacted to strong will and could be transformed into various forms of energy. That was why mages could produce such diverse phenomena.
Wooooong...
Rick peeked in, startled, as Azel resonated with mana in his meditation. As a healing arts practitioner, he was sensitive to mana movements too.
"Spirit Order training?"