Embracing Magic - E.M Chapter 48 (Part 2)
The commissioners divided the trainees among themselves. It was a one-sided decision without considering the trainees’ opinions.
“When do you plan to move?”
“As soon as possible, within half a year, at the latest a year. I’ll move as soon as the capital is besieged.”
“Then we should exclude the ones we chose from missions.”
“Indeed. It would be troublesome if they weren’t around when we leave.”
The commissioners intentionally avoided mentioning Rodin, number 108.
His skills were exceptional. Constantly producing potions, he could serve as a cash cow.
Yet, they were reluctant to keep him nearby.
His talent was excessively great. If they lost or had his slave rod taken away, they were as good as dead.
Though unspoken, the commissioners had decided Rodin’s fate.
Disposal.
The method was simple. They just had to find and break Rodin’s slave Rod stored in the underground warehouse.
* * *
Drok and Darren returned on the tenth day after Hedler and Lant arrived at the training center.
Darren had an exhausted face, and Drok’s face was blackened due to the necrosis in his thigh.
“They’re here.”
“Drok seems to be in pain.”
“Yeah. He’s limping.”
The swordsmanship trainees who were training in the playground noticed Drok and Darren entering the Special Forces training center.
“Darren, you go to the consultation room.”
“Yes, sir.”
As soon as Darren arrived at the training center, he was summoned by the committee to report on the mission.
At the same time, it was a procedure to cross-check if the contents heard from Hedler and Lant matched.
Darren’s report was consistent with what they heard from Hedler and Lant. The information was the same until they separated.
After an hour-long report, the committee sent Darren to the dormitory. Any slight suspicion they had about Hedler and Lant disappeared at that moment.
“Drok, you go to the infirmary for treatment.”
“Yes, sir.”
Drok was taken to the infirmary of the Special Forces training center.
The infirmary staff in the Special Forces training center were not magicians but those who disinfected wounds with herbs or set bones. They were preliminary treatment personnel before magicians performed healing magic.
Those who performed healing magic were called ‘healers.’ Although all low-circle magicians, combined with the abilities of herbalists, their treatment was quite effective.
“This won’t work.”
“What did the magicians say?”
“Of course, they said it’s impossible. The leg is completely rotten. If treated early, maybe, but now it’s too late.”
Hearing the conversation between the infirmary staff, Drok despaired.
Even meeting the infirmary staff of the Special Forces training center, there was no way to treat his thigh. The healers also declared it ‘untreatable.’
“Hey, number 60. Cutting the leg is the best option.”
“Right. If left, the poison will spread to other parts. If cut now and well managed, you can save your life.”
“No, no. Absolutely not. Please save me! Healers, please, save me. If I lose my leg, I’m done. Please, save me. Please, I beg you. Ungh, ugh.”
Drok clung to the infirmary staff, sobbing loudly.
His desperation was so pitiful that the staff couldn’t bear to look and turned their heads.
Drok absolutely couldn’t lose his leg.
Losing his leg meant losing his swordsmanship. A 4th-level swordsman would become just a crippled slave.
“Haa, just go back for now. Think calmly about what’s more important, your leg or your life.”
“Yes, think carefully. If delayed, not just your leg but your life is in danger. You don’t have much time. Think about it today.”
The infirmary staff gave up on treating Drok. Even the healers watching from a distance pretended not to see and turned their heads.
Rodin had long finished making a fake slave rod. He just needed to go into the central building’s basement to swap it with the real one.
But the opportunity hadn’t arisen. For a while, the magician commissioners were on duty, making it impossible to enter the central building at night.
After finishing his tasks, Rodin returned to the dormitory. He frowned at the chaotic atmosphere.
“What’s going on? Where are Hedler and Lant?”
There was only an hour left until bedtime. At this time, Hedler and Lant usually sat on their beds, either playing or chatting.
But today, they were nowhere to be seen. Judging by the unorganized state of the dormitory, they seemed to have left in a hurry.
“Hey, number 94.”
“Me?”
“Why is it so chaotic? Did something happen?”
Rodin stopped one of the 3rd batch trainees passing by. They were only vaguely familiar faces.
“Number 60 and the 4th batch magician, they came back from the mission.”
“And that’s enough to cause this commotion?”
“Number 60’s injury seems severe. Everyone’s in room 310 now.”
“Hmm, I see. Thanks for the answer.”
“Heh heh. No problem.”
Rodin first went into the dormitory to change his clothes. To be precise, his clothing-like magic beast Jito changed from his uniform to workout clothes.
‘I heard he injured his thigh.’
Rodin had heard from Hedler and Lant that Drok injured his thigh and Tory had burns on his arm.
But Drok was still injured, and Tory hadn’t appeared.
‘Is he dead?’
Just in case, Rodin opened the wall next to his bed and took out a few potions. He put the potions into the pocket of Jito, disguised as workout clothes, and headed to room 310.
“Hedler, Lant. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Rodin! Can’t you do something?”
“Is the injury that bad?”
“Yes. His leg is completely… phew.”
Hedler was blaming himself, looking at Drok’s wound.
When they escaped from the Ingram Empire, there was no magician in the group who could use healing magic. The group was exhausted from constant running without proper rest, worsening Drok’s leg injury.
But Hedler and Lant had a chance to treat Drok. If they had used the potions they had, Drok’s thigh injury might have been healed. No, it definitely would have been healed.
“Move aside. Let me see.”
“Rodin. Please.”
“Got it, just move aside.”
Rodin pushed Hedler aside and entered room 310.
Drok lay on the bed, sweating coldly, surrounded by his dorm mates from room 310, along with Darren and Lant.