The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 122: Sixth-circle Magic

Chapter 122: Sixth-circle Magic

Anxiety surged within me as I surveyed the expectant faces in the crowd. Nearly five hundred strong, the assembly comprised of the crippled, the terminally ill, and an assortment of deformed individuals. My hands twitched towards the cowl of my cloak as I stood before them, but I forced them to remain at my sides. Sylvus raised his hand, commanding the attention of the gathering.

"You have been gathered here today to assist the Fate Hero in perfecting her magic. As has been explained to you, she will attempt to heal the maladies that afflict you, regardless of their severity or scale. While her powers are miraculous, we give no promise that you will be restored to full health. Those who wish to participate will be expected to treat her kindly and with respect, even if the outcome is not as you desire. Any transgressions will be dealt with severely."

The elf’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the crowd, emanating an aura of authority. Beneath that stern exterior, I sensed his concern and care, which, combined with Fyren’s reassuring presence beside me, gave me the strength to step forward.

As I moved to stand beside Sylvus, I couldn’t help but be overly conscious of my tail, which swished nervously behind me. The crowd’s gaze shifted towards me, and a heavy weight settled on my shoulders. I stood there, silent, for several agonizing moments, grappling for courage. Taking a deep breath, I harnessed my mana for extra support and forced myself to speak through the tightness in my chest.

"You’ve come here in the arms of those who have supported you throughout your lives. I may not possess the strength of the other heroes, but I am determined to do what I can. So, um, please have patience with me, and I promise to give my best so that you won’t have to be carried anywhere, ever again."

As I finished, Sylvus motioned for his attendants to organize the hundreds into smaller groups. I watched, my muscles still trembling from the anxiety of addressing such a large crowd. I had been the subject of attention before, but those instances had been thrust upon me. Even the few sentences I shared had drained me more than any spell had before.

Fyren laid a hand on my shoulder, startling me, but his confident voice soothed my jitters. "You did well. Was that your first time speaking to such a large gathering?"

I nodded, finally releasing my tight grip on my mana. As the comforting warmth left my soul, I sagged against his support, taking shallow breaths. "Never again," I whispered. I had gained a newfound respect for Soltair, who displayed such confidence and poise in front of so many.

He chuckled, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I find it hard to believe you’re this nervous about public speaking when you faced down a demon without fear. Nonetheless, I’m proud of you."

"Thanks," I mumbled, finally managing to calm my pounding heart.

After a few minutes, the servants successfully divided the crippled and injured into groups. With Fyren behind me, I approached the smallest group first and summoned my staff. I knelt beside a black-haired young man dressed in the Viriden Military’s uniform. He clutched a pair of crutches in his lap, a crude replacement for his leg, which had been torn off at the knee.

"It’s really you," he breathed, "I’m so sorry. You saved me in the gate with your magic, but then I went and lost my leg anyway."

"We wouldn’t have won without your sacrifice," a nearby woman reassured him. She broke into a fit of coughs, staining her sleeve with fresh blood, which overlaid the dried blood already there.

Each person here had reached the peak of suffering, and their untold stories tugged at my heart. Unable to hold back any longer, I reached out and took the young soldier’s hand. I ignored his embarrassed flush as my slender fingers glided across his calloused palm, encouraging the others to join hands as well.

As everyone extended their hands or broken limbs, I raised my staff, channeling mana into the crystal, and began casting Nexus. I meticulously constructed the intricate runes that composed the six magic circles, aware of the stunned silence that enveloped the square. Some onlookers gasped when they noticed the absence of a chant, but I paid them no mind, focusing on the spell.

White threads emanated from my soul, coursing through my hand and into the young soldier. From him, they leaped from person to person, weaving us together in an inseparable web. As the final runes of the spell fell into place, I released his hand and returned mine to my lap. I felt a faint connection to everyone in the group, along with glimpses of their emotions. Surprise, awe, and nervousness flashed through my mind, threatening to overwhelm me.

I took a few steadying breaths before opening my eyes. With the Eyes of Fate, I could see the connecting strands pulsating with my heartbeat. The initial rush of magic receded, allowing me a moment to catch my breath.

After a few moments of preparation, I moved on to the next phase. Nexus performed as expected, with the most challenging part being the accurate casting. I kept a close watch on my mana as I began casting Regenerate, curious about how much it would require to spread through the entire Nexus. According to the spellbook, each target consumed about a quarter of the original spell’s mana, meaning one spell could cover four people.

Soft green light bathed the square as the five magic circles disappeared. The magic flowed into the nexus, spreading rapidly until it reached the farthest injured in the group. Groans of discomfort filled the air as the healing magic restored their limbs and cured their illnesses. I was too shocked to notice, as despite the thirty targets, Regenerate used barely twice the original amount of mana.

Elated by this discovery, I moved on to the next group and repeated the process. Although there were nearly fifty men, women, and children, I didn’t hesitate to link us in another Nexus. Again, I found the mana consumption surprisingly low, expending more on the Nexus itself than on Regenerate.

I passed through five groups before the repeated casting of the sixth-circle spell began to take its toll, and my strength began to wane. However, the ecstatic cries of the healed and the hopeful expressions of those who still awaited their turn spurred me on. By the time I completed the last spell, I remained on my knees, unable to stand. My soul ached from the prolonged exertion, and the Sunpurge was threatening to flare up, but all I felt was satisfaction.

"It’s done," I murmured, closing my eyes.

A shadow fell over me as Fyren squatted down, looking at me with concern. "You pushed yourself too hard," he said sternly, then his face softened. "But you did well. And I’m sure they won’t forget it either."

I forced my protesting eyelids open and gazed around the town square. Many families, informed of their loved one’s recovery, had returned from the duels, filling the streets with joyful shouts and tears. Countless faces appeared before me, gratefully clasping my hands and expressing their feelings. I winced whenever an especially eager townsfolk embraced me, sending sharp tingles down my shoulder, but Fyren was always quick to intervene.

Basking in their enthusiasm drained the rest of my strength, and Fyren soon stepped in, raising his voice above the crowd. "I know you’re grateful, but that’s enough. The Fate Hero needs rest, so please return to your homes."

Those who had yet to thank me grumbled and protested, but they reluctantly obeyed. Soon, only Sylvus and his servants remained in the square. The elf approached, his smile as wide as any I had healed.

"They say sixth-circle magic can devastate a city," he said, "but this is the first time I’ve seen it save one. Your deeds shall never be forgotten, Xiviyah, and I thank you on behalf of our Lord."

I nodded wearily but dismissed his praise inwardly. "I’m glad my efforts helped these people, but my motivations aren’t nearly as pure as you make them out to be. This was training, an experiment, if you will, not an act of charity."

Sylvus’ sudden chuckle caught me off guard before he said, "Perhaps you don’t see it that way, but even the smallest crumbs from the table feed the dogs. Your world is so far removed from our simple lives that you couldn’t possibly comprehend the blessings you have bestowed upon us. Even the Sun Hero’s exhibition duels will be recounted in the taverns for years. The boys who witnessed his fights will forever hold their mere attendance as a mark of honor throughout their careers. But you... you changed lives forever. Every time one of those men, women, or children looks at their restored limb, they will think of the hero who brought it back to them."

"I... I see," I stammered, blushing furiously. His words were beyond argument, forcing me to acknowledge the warmth I felt within.

But my happiness wasn’t just for his praise or the smiles of the people. I could feel my soul strengthening, expanding from my exertion, growing more robust. Already, my passive mana recovery filled me with enough mana to cast another Nexus, and I suspected I would be in peak condition by the end of the day.

As we bid farewell to Sylvus, I gazed northward toward our next destination, and my tail twitched in anticipation. The Western University, the holy land of mages. It was there, I decided, I would learn my first seventh-circle spell.