Chương 3: CHAPTER 2: THE SILENCE OF A SILVER BLADE

"You..." The knight's voice was low, a dangerous rumble laced with absolute disbelief as he stared down at my hands.

"What kind of healing job was that?" The silver greatsword in his grip didn't waver, its pristine edge still dripping with the thick, purple-tinted blood of the split Rank-C Calamity Boar. The air pressure around him was heavy, saturated with a dense, suffocating mana aura that made my new fifteen-year-old chest tighten. My respiratory rate spiked, and my intercostal muscles strained just to pull oxygen into my lungs. This wasn't just bloodlust; it was a physical atmospheric compression caused by sheer raw power.

My mind raced at a million miles an hour.' Think, Rudra, think!' As a chief emergency room surgeon at AIIMS, I had dealt with volatile, armed relatives, aggressive police officers, and chaotic hospital politics during triple-casualty night shifts. I knew how to read a room when lives were on the line. But this? This was a hyper-elite killing machine clad in royal midnight-blue armor, embroidered with a golden lion crest. He was a Royal Vanguard.

If I told him I was a reincarnated doctor from a place called Uttar Pradesh who just performed an ultra-precise microscopic cellular suture using a wooden splinter as an improvised forceps, he'd probably slice me into two perfect pieces just like that boar.

Besides, in a world where my initial assessment proved slavery was rampant and powerful nobles routinely kidnapped rare talents, revealing an SSS-Rank chantless healing skill on day one was a fast track to a lifetime in a dungeon, forced to heal tyrants for eternity.

"I-I am..." I stumbled, letting my knees shake slightly, instantly playing the part of a terrified, helpless orphan. I forced my voice to crack with the perfect pitch of pubertal panic, lowering my center of gravity to look as non-threatening as possible.

"My name is Shin, sir! I'm just a traveling herbalist's apprentice!"

"An apprentice?" The knight's sharp, piercing eyes narrowed beneath his visor, his gauntleted hand gripping his sword hilt tighter. The leather of his glove groaned under the pressure.

"Where exactly is your homeland? I have scouted every province under the crown, and no such style exists in this territory. A true healer requires a catalyst—a staff, a holy book, or at the very least, an incantation to channel the ambient mana."

"It's... it's too far from here, sir," I stammered, rubbing my temples to fake a dizzy spell, playing the lost, traumatized kid perfectly. I let my eyelids flutter, mimicking the early stages of hypovolemic shock or psychological trauma.

"I've traveled to so many different places with my master since I was a small child that they all blur together. I honestly don't even remember the name of the continent we came from, and my mind is completely foggy right now. I barely remember the coordinates of our last camp before the monsters ambushed us." The Vanguard commander stared at me, evaluating the micro-expressions on my face. As a surgeon, I knew all about facial anatomy—the twitch of the orbicularis oculi, the tightening of the zygomaticus major.

He was looking for a liar. He stepped closer, the heavy metal of his boots crunching on the blood-soaked dirt.

"A traveling vagabond? Without a holy scripture? Without an incantation circle? I saw no light of the Sun Goddess, boy. No chant passed your lips, yet this man's shattered pleural cavity collapsed and knit itself shut in seconds. That requires high-tier micro-manipulation. Even the High Priests of the capital must recite a three-verse stanza to achieve structural cell regeneration."" It's a foreign trade technique!" I lied through my teeth, keeping my head bowed low to hide the sharp, calculating glint in my eyes.

"A physical manipulation method taught by my late master. It doesn't rely on divine intervention, sir! It uses almost no mana, just precise finger pressure on biological pathways to stimulate the body's natural coagulation and cellular mitosis!" The knight remained dead silent, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. His gaze shifted from me to the carriage guard.

The guard, completely healed and flushed with a healthy color thanks to my rapid intervention on his internal bleeding, finally managed to scramble to his feet. He looked down at his own pristine chest armor, completely free of blood, then at me, and back to the elite knight.

"Lord Vanguard... The boy speaks the truth!" Kenji gasped, his voice trembling but filled with genuine gratitude.

"I mean, I don't know the mechanics of how he did it, but he dragged me into the brush when my lungs were filling with blood and saved my life. There was no magic circle. No holy light. Just... an incredible, blinding speed. If he were an enemy spy, he would have let me die." Before the knight could press any further, a sharp whistle echoed from the edge of the forest path. A squadron of cavalry, riding massive, armored horses with glowing hooves, broke through the dense trees.

"Commander! The path ahead is clear, but the main royal carriage is approaching the outer perimeter!" one of the mounted soldiers announced, saluting sharply with his hand across his chest plate.

"We must secure the primary transport lane immediately!" The Vanguard commander closed his eyes for a brief second, his suffocating aura receding slightly into his armor like a retracted blade. The immediate, crushing weight on my shoulders lifted, allowing my lungs to fully expand. He slowly sheathed his massive silver greatsword with a crisp, lethal click that echoed through the dark woods.

"We move out," the commander ordered his squad, before turning back to give me one final, lingering look that told me he didn't believe a single word of my apprentice story.

"Shin... a chantless healer is an anomaly. Pray our paths do not cross under stranger circumstances. If I find out you are a rogue variable, there is no corner of this kingdom where you can hide." With a sudden burst of movement, the knight leaped onto a waiting steed with superhuman agility, and the royal squadron thundered away into the darkness. Their departure left behind the massive, split carcass of the Calamity Boar, the metallic tang of blood, and a completely ruined merchant carriage.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. I let out a long, shaky breath, wiping the cold sweat and a stray splatter of boar blood from my face. My heart rate was finally dropping back down toward a normal sinus rhythm of seventy beats per minute. It was only then, as the adrenaline faded and my cortisol levels stabilized, that a bizarre realization hit me like a physical blow. The knight, the guard, the soldiers—they hadn't been speaking Hindi or English.

They were speaking fluent, traditional Japanese. Yet, the moment the sound waves hit my tympanic membrane, my brain translated the syntax instantly. When I replied, classical Japanese phrases flowed out of my mouth as naturally as breathing.' The system language translation is completely passive,' I noted, running a hand through my messy hair.

'It's modifying my auditory cortex and Broca's area in real-time. At least I don't have to worry about a language barrier while trying to survive in this fantasy wilderness.

"Hey, kid—uh, Shin," the carriage guard said, interrupting my thoughts. He walked over and placed a heavy, grateful hand on my shoulder.

"My name is Kenji. I'm a C-Rank mercenary hired by the merchant guild. You saved my life back there. My carriage is completely destroyed, but the cargo horses are still standing. We need to move before the scent of this blood attracts worse nocturnal monsters." He pointed down the path toward a surviving horse pulling a small, intact wooden cart where an elderly, white-bearded merchant was anxiously peeking out from behind canvas flaps.

"Come with us," Kenji smiled, his grip firm and reassuring.

"We're heading to the nearest frontier trading hub, Mizugaon. It's only a few hours away. Let us at least give you a ride, buy you some street food, and get you properly registered.

"Registered?" I asked, tilting my head, intentionally maintaining my naive, clueless apprentice act.

"At the Guild, of course! A traveler with a foggy past needs an official identification card, or the town guards of The Bharata-Yamato Kingdom will throw you in a holding cell as a vagrant rogue. If you register at the guild, you'll also get access to the basic local archive maps so you can find your way around our capital, Indra-Kyoto, or whatever town you want to visit." The Bharata-Yamato Kingdom. The name itself was an architectural fusion of my old world.

It was as if ancient India and feudal Japan had collided, stitched together by some cosmic surgeon. I looked back down at my smooth, youthful hands, a quiet smirk playing on my lips as a familiar digital hum echoed in my ears. Right on cue, the transparent blue interface flashed before my eyes, updating my records in real-time: [SYSTEM NOTICE: EXPERIMENTAL LIVE-TRAUMA RESOLUTION DETECTED. [INTERNAL SUTURE EFFICIENCY: 99. 4%] [EXPERIENCE POINTS ALLOCATED. LEVEL UP SUCCESSFUL!] [CURRENT PROFILE] • Name: Rudra Mishra (False Persona: Shin) • Level: 5 • Mana Status: Moderate (Baseline Adjusted) • Current Location: Bharata-Yamato Kingdom / Outer Woods • Current Status: Stable / Adrenaline Residual [SYSTEM NOTE]: SSS-Rank Skill 'Micro-Cellular Suture' is operating flawlessly. Keep your cover intact, Reincarnator. Level 5,' I mused, waving my hand with a casual flick of my wrist to dismiss the luminescent blue screen as I climbed onto the merchant's wooden cart beside Kenji.' Not bad for day one in the operating theater of another world. Let's go see what this hybrid kingdom has to offer.' The wooden cart creaked to life as Kenji snapped the leather reins, moving down the dark road under the cool night sky. Behind us, the deep, untamed carnage of the forest faded into shadow. Up ahead, past the sweeping plains, the distant, torch-lit stone walls of Mizugaon slowly began to materialize on the horizon like a beacon. The journey took roughly three hours. During that time, I didn't waste a single second. While Kenji swapped stories with the elderly merchant—whose name was Daichi—I kept my eyes closed, simulating sleep while secretly exploring the systemic pathways of my own body. If I was going to survive here as a surgeon, I needed to understand the anatomy of mana. In this world, mana behaved exactly like a secondary circulatory system. It didn't just float in the blood; it flowed through its own microscopic vessels, parallel to the arteries and veins. By focusing my intent, I could feel the blue energy pooling in my core, right below my diaphragm, waiting to be pumped to my fingertips.' Interesting,' I thought, analyzing the biological data.' My SSS-Rank skill doesn't just bypass magic incantations; it accelerates cell division by directly donating mana to the mitochondria, forcing ATP production to skyrocket. I'm literally hyper-charging the human body's natural healing timeline.'" We're here, kid. Wake up," Kenji's voice broke my concentration. The cart had ground to a halt. We were standing in a massive queue of merchants, travelers, and low-tier mercenaries, all waiting under the imposing stone archway of the Mizugaon gate. Great iron-reinforced wooden doors towered above us, guarded by armored sentries wearing traditional breastplates over lightweight cloth tunics. The air here smelled entirely different—a pungent, lively mixture of roasting meats, exotic spices, woodsmoke, and horse manure. It was loud, chaotic, and burst with life." State your business and present your identification tokens," a stern-faced gate captain commanded, stepping up to our cart. He held a smooth, crystal orb in his left hand. I realized instantly that it was a basic scanning artifact used to detect hidden weapons or high-level malicious mana signatures. Daichi, the old merchant, quickly stepped forward, bowing low while presenting a copper guild plate." Daichi of the Eastern Textile Guild, sir. Returning from a supply run. My primary carriage was destroyed by a Calamity Boar, but Vanguard Commander Leon cleared the path." The captain nodded, passing the crystal orb over Daichi's plate. It glowed a dull green." Valid. And the guard?"" Kenji, C-Rank independent mercenary," the guard said, flashing his iron token. The orb pulsed green again. Then, the captain's cold, analytical gaze landed squarely on me. He looked at my tattered, blood-stained clothes and my lack of a merchant crest." And who is the boy? He bears no token, and his clothing is covered in high-grade beast blood."" He's an apprentice herbalist, captain," Kenji interjected smoothly, slipping a silver coin into the guard's hand with practiced ease." Saved my life out there after the beast attacked. He lost his master and his papers in the chaos. I'm bringing him in to get registered at the local Adventurers' and Trade Guild." The captain looked at the silver coin, his expression softening just a fraction, but he still hoisted the crystal orb toward my chest." Rules are rules. If he has a criminal record or a hidden high-level curse, the orb will turn crimson. Hold still, boy." I braced myself, holding my breath as the smooth glass orb hovered inches from my sternum. Inside my chest, my heart hammered against my ribs. If the system's SSS-Rank status triggered an alarm on this basic security scanner, my quiet, vacation-focused life would end before it even began.' System,' I thought frantically, 'apply a camouflage protocol. Hide the true rank.' For a terrifying, silent three seconds, the orb remained dark. Then, with a soft hum, a faint, pale blue light flickered deep within the crystal. The captain raised an eyebrow, looking at the reading." Mana capacity: Low-Medium. No active hexes. Basic auxiliary signature. Alright, he's clean. But you have exactly twenty-four hours to get him a temporary vagrant pass from the guild, Kenji, or the city patrol will round him up." Understood, captain. Thank you," Kenji nodded, pulling the reins. The heavy wooden wheels of our cart rolled forward, passing through the shadow of the massive stone gatehouse and finally crossing the threshold. As we entered the main thoroughfare, my eyes widened. The streets of Mizugaon were illuminated by glowing paper lanterns hung from wooden structures that blended traditional pagoda roofing with sweeping, elegant arches. Street vendors were shouting, selling everything from hot bowls of noodle soup to strange, glowing blue potions in glass vials. I leaned back against the cargo crates, a genuine smile spreading across my face. The operating theater was grand, the world was massive, and the mystery was just beginning.' Mizugaon,' I thought, my eyes tracking a group of mercenaries carrying glowing swords down the street.' Let's see what kind of medicine this world needs.'