Chương 499: B8—Chapter 6: A Favor For Rue

We arrived in Mili, the capital, in the middle of spring. It didn't snow anymore, so it took Rue one day to make friends with some small people, and from that day on, he disappeared after breakfast with several lunches and mana potions in his Storage and only came back for dinner. This world had dogs, and since he'd shrunk, he even matched a couple of the bigger local breeds. Of course, he glamored himself to look like the fluffiest of them. Some people tried to steal him occasionally, but with little success.

Usually, a few growls were all it took to discourage them, and if they were particularly insistent, he lifted them with Telekinesis and informed them he wouldn't set them down until they promised not to be silly. That always solved the problem. On some occasions, guards brought him back, but since he was friendly and actually spoke with them in mana speech, they quickly got to know him and stopped bothering him and me.

One day in early summer, he came into my treatment room and sat quietly, waiting until I finished treating a fisherman who'd fallen off his boat and banged his head on the pier. Once I was done, I turned to him and cast Clean on my hands.

"What is it, buddy?" Rue shifted on the floor, ears twitching, his tail giving a single slow wag.

"Rue need John help." I tilted my head and studied him for a moment. He rarely came looking for me like this.

"What kind of help?" He rose to his feet, glanced toward the door, then back at me.

"Come. Rue show John." He led me through the city for over two hours, heading toward the eastern outskirts, until the streets grew quieter and we reached a huge, rundown building. It looked as if it had once been a castle, or maybe a large mansion, but time had clearly taken its toll. Several wings had partially collapsed, leaving broken floors and exposed ceilings hanging at odd angles. Long cracks split the walls, some wide enough to see clear through, and entire sections had caved in completely.

Stones and debris were scattered all around the base, dark with dirt and moss, giving the impression that the building had been slowly falling apart for a very long time. He led me through the askew gate into a large courtyard crowded with kids of every age, all dressed in rags. They paused as we entered, all staring at us. I slowed and took it in, my gaze moving from one thin face to the next.

"What is this place?" I asked him.

"Place for no-parents children." My eyes drifted to the surrounding buildings, taking in the cracked walls and sagging roofs. I gestured vaguely around us.

"You want me to fix the building?"

"Yes." He nodded once, then added after a brief pause,"John also make children healthy." A girl of about eight ran toward us, shouting, "Rue! Rue!" That was all it took. The smaller kids swarmed us, dozens of them, and in their rush to reach Rue and show their affection, they somehow pushed me aside entirely. A woman of about thirty, dressed in simple brown robes, rushed out of the building toward us and stopped short when she saw me.

"Who are you?" I lifted a hand and pointed at Rue.

"I'm his friend. He asked me to help." She studied me with narrowed eyes, her posture stiff.

"How?"

"I'm a Healer," I said, then added, gesturing vaguely at the surrounding ruin, "and I also have some control over the earth element. He wants me to fix the building." Her face hardened.

"Go away before I call the guards. And take your mutt with you. I won't let anybody steal any more children."

"Huh?" I stared at her, genuinely lost.

"Why would I steal children? I already have one," I said, pointing at Rue.

"Trust me. I don't need any more." Rue let out a low growl and declared in mana speech, "Rue is not child. Rue is dangerous adventurer." Her eyes went wide.

"It speaks?" she shrieked. Some of the kids immediately swarmed her, tugging at her sleeves and crowding around her legs, all talking at once. Voices overlapped and collided as they tried to be heard.

"Sister Titi, this is Rue!"

"Sister Titi, Rue is magic dog!"

"He comes all the time!"

"He brings food!" A few jumped in place, waving their arms for attention, while others pointed eagerly at Rue, faces bright and breathless, as if afraid she might miss a single word. That explained the huge amounts of food he took every day, only to return empty. I'd thought he was just running around all day and burning it off. Turns out he was feeding the kids.

"Good job, buddy," I sent to him telepathically. He straightened up, chest puffing out, and sent back a smug, satisfied feeling.

"Rue is good boy." It took the hubbub a while to die down, and the tension bled out of the courtyard. Before long, the kids drifted away, and soon they were chasing Rue in wild circles, laughing and shrieking as he deliberately let them almost catch him. Sister Titi's posture eased a little. The hard edge in her expression dulled, though she still watched me like she expected me to pull some kind of trick. At least she stopped glancing toward the street as if measuring how fast the guards could arrive.

"A healer, you say?"

"Yes." She pointed at the cobblestone I was standing on.

"Stay here. Don't move from this spot." I glanced down, then back at her, shrugged, and nodded. She turned and disappeared into the building. I was left standing there while Rue ran past with three kids clinging to his fur and laughing like maniacs. A few minutes later, she came back out, moving carefully, a small bundle in her arms. A boy of about three lay limp against her chest, his head lolling slightly as she adjusted her grip. She stopped in front of me and held him out just enough for me to see his face.

"Prove it." I didn't answer; instead, I cast Life Sense and focused on the boy. He wasn't sleeping. He was unconscious, his body fighting hard and losing ground to severe inflammation around his brain. An acute case of meningitis that had gone untreated for too long. On top of that, his lungs were irritated from repeated cold exposure, his body temperature was unstable, and his reserves were dangerously low. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

I looked up at Sister Titi.

"He's very sick." She looked at me like I was an idiot.

"I know." I almost snapped back about her tone, but swallowed it. She didn't know me, and there was no reason for her to trust me. What I could see, though, was how tightly she held the boy and how her eyes kept returning to his face. She cared deeply about him and about the other kids here. That was enough. Instead of arguing, I focused on the kid and started healing. I have to admit, the upgraded spells are impressive.

In the past, I'd needed to guide Healing Touch deliberately, steering it with intention to where I wanted it to go. If someone had a broken arm and I cast the spell, the arm would heal. But if there was more than one problem, I had to decide what to fix first and actively push the spell to that problem. Life Weaving worked differently. I cast it, and it immediately went for the most urgent issue, in this case, the meningitis. What impressed me most, something I'd already noticed before, was how smart the spell was.

When the body didn't have enough energy to continue, the healing simply stopped instead of causing harm, which was exactly what happened now. I already knew how to handle that from prior experience. First came Vital Life Force Reinforcement to supply the needed energy, then Life Flow Regulation to direct it where it was most needed. Life Weaving picked back up for another second before its mana ran dry.

Next came Physiological Stabilization, to keep his system balanced and prevent cascading failures from the strain. Another round of energy spells followed, then more Life Weaving. Despite how small the boy was, he was so sick that the process took over ten minutes. By the time I finished, he was completely healthy and even had a small reserve of energy left. Naturally, he used that reserve to cry at the top of his lungs. Even I was impressed by the volume.

Sister Titi looked from me to the boy and back again a few times, and then a tear slid down her cheek. Yeah. She was a good woman who really loved those kids. Sister Titi said nothing at first. She just stood there for a heartbeat longer, then shifted the boy in her arms and raised her voice.

"Lina," she called. An elderly woman hurried over from the edge of the courtyard, her posture slightly stooped, her face drawn with exhaustion. Sister Titi passed the boy to her with care, murmured something too low for me to catch, and waited until Lina nodded and carried him inside. Only then did she look back at me.

"Come inside," she said, the edge gone from her voice.

"We should talk." She led the way through a side door and down a narrow corridor. The building looked even worse from the inside. Cracks patched and re-patched, floors worn thin, the faint smell of damp stone and boiled vegetables hanging in the air. We stopped at a small room that clearly functioned as an office. A battered desk, two mismatched chairs, and stacks of papers weighted down with stones. She gestured for me to sit and took the chair behind the desk.

For a moment, she studied me again, not hostile this time, just tired.

"What is this place? It looks like a castle, but it's falling apart, and you have a lot of kids here." I asked. She leaned back slightly and exhaled.

"Almost three hundred years ago, one lord thought he could challenge the king. He gathered supporters, promised change, and stirred people up." Her mouth tightened.

"He lost." She rested her hands on the desk.

"As punishment, the king took his estate and all his wealth and ordered this place turned into an orphanage." She waved around to indicate the building we were in.

"Every child left without parents because of that uprising was sent here. The idea was that the lord's legacy would be spent cleaning up the damage he caused." She paused, then continued more quietly.

"But once it was recognized as an orphanage, people kept bringing children. Not just from that rebellion. Any child without parents. Sickness, accidents, neglect, you name it. Years passed, and the reason stopped mattering." Her gaze drifted toward the door.

"The money ran out long ago. The estate is gone, the treasury is empty. What keeps this place running now is donations. Food, clothes, a bit of coin from good people who can spare it." She looked back at me.

"And sometimes," she added softly, "from a magic dog who sneaks in." I hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Don't you get support from the king?" Her lips pressed into a thin line.

"We used to. The previous king gave us a small stipend. Not much, but it kept the place standing." She leaned back in her chair and let out a tired breath.

"Then he died. The new king was young, only seventeen, and far more interested in balls, hunting, river races, and finding creative ways to empty the treasury than in old obligations." She made a vague dismissive gesture with one hand.

"When his spending finally got out of control, he ordered the finance ministers to cut all unnecessary expenses. Ours was the first on the list." I glanced toward the courtyard, where Rue was still being climbed like a very patient tree, kids clinging to his fur and laughing as he carefully shifted his weight so none of them fell. After a second, I looked back at her.

"You mentioned stealing kids. What's that about?" Her mouth tightened.

"Some nobles and rich merchants are always looking for cheap labor. They take the older kids, promise them food and a place to sleep, and make them sign binding contracts. On paper, it looks reasonable. In practice, it often means a servant for life." She shifted in her chair and rubbed at one temple.

"I'm not completely against it. Some of the people who take the older kids do give them steady work and decent living conditions. A real chance at a stable life." Her voice hardened.

"But not all of them. Especially not the ones who take them to work on the boats." She let out a long breath.

"I try to protect them as best I can. I warn them. I argue. But if a boy or girl is fifteen and wants to leave, I can't stop them. They are considered adults at that age. I'm supposed to tell them to leave, actually." She looked away for a moment.

"I can't do that. So some stay here even after that, as long as they want. But once they decide to go, even if it is for bad work under terrible conditions, I have no right to stop them."

"Kids are considered adults at fifteen?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise. She gave me that familiar look all Travelers eventually get, the one reserved for someone asking an obvious question. I raised a hand quickly.

"Never mind. Forget I asked." I leaned back slightly.

"Anyway, like I said, I can help. I can heal all the kids, and I can help fix the building. Which brings me to another question." I gestured vaguely around.

"Why is it in such terrible shape? Three hundred years isn't that long." She followed my gesture and sighed.

"Parts of the mansion were damaged during the uprising and never properly repaired. Other sections were weakened back then in ways that weren't obvious." She shook her head slowly.

"Over time, those parts started to fail as well. One collapse led to another, and with no money for real repairs, we patch what we can and hope it holds." We sat quietly for a few minutes. Finally, she shook her head, as if flinging away stray thoughts, and looked back at me.

"What do you need to heal the children?"

"A room to work in, for starters." Titi thought for a moment, then got up and gestured for me to follow. She led me down to a half-basement floor, where the windows sat just beneath the ceiling, and along a long corridor into a room that almost looked intact. A big crack split one of the walls, and a few stones had fallen out of the ceiling, but aside from that, it was usable. She gestured around the space.

"Will that do? We don't have a better place. All the intact rooms are full of kids."

"That's great," I said.

"Give me a while to fix the place, then start bringing the children one by one. Start with the sick ones, of course, but I'll check all of them."

"Thank you," she said simply, then left. I growled quietly at myself for converting the reinforcement spell into an ability point before learning how to reinforce properly with mana, sighed since there was nothing to be done about it now, and got to work. Fixing the room went quickly. With earth affinity, I guided the fallen stones back into place, sliding them along the ground, up the wall, and across the ceiling, fitting each one where it belonged and binding it with mana.

Once all the fallen stones were back in place, I connected to the cracked wall and fused the fracture shut with mana. Just to be safe, and to avoid having stones collapse on my head later, I leaned against one wall, closed my eyes, and moved my mana from stone to stone, strengthening the binding between each block and the wall it belonged to. After finishing that wall, I did the same for the other three and the ceiling.

With the structure solid again, I connected through earth affinity to the dust and stone crumbs scattered across the room, slid them toward me, and stored them away. Then I cast Clean and Purify over the entire space, took out a table, a few chairs, a treatment bed, and set a bowl of candy on the table. Finally, I stepped outside to check. It had taken longer than I expected. More than twenty kids were waiting in the corridor with two caretakers.

From where I stood, I could already see runny noses on most of them, along with other obvious problems. Cloth bandages, bruises, scrapes, and one kid with an arm in a sling. I smiled and gave them a small bow.

"My name is Healer John. I'm Rue's friend, and he asked me to help all of you. Come inside one by one, and I promise you'll all come out healthy." A kid of about ten cheered. The rest looked more apprehensive. I waved the kid with his arm in a sling forward, gestured toward the bed, and got to work.