The Life of a Villain Healer

While Serena and the gang, are having a peaceful time, the world outside is in utter chaos.

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The headmaster of The Academy of the Sacred Hunt, Eldric Halvorn, sat at the head of the long oak table, watching the murmurs and heated discussions ripple through the staff room.

His fingers drummed softly on the table, his sharp gaze observing the reactions of his colleagues as they debated fiercely over the candidates for the new teaching positions.

The staff, a blend of seasoned warriors, scholars, and mages, was always a formidable group, but even the most disciplined of minds could fall prey to their own biases when it came to the future of the Academy.

Eldric sighed inwardly. There were ten candidates in total, each one impressive in their own right, but the conversation had become tangled in arguments and second-guesses.

It had begun with Serena Bellus, the renowned healer, beloved by the public for her vast knowledge and healing arts.

A quarter of the teaching staff had immediately disagreed with her potential position, citing her lack of formal education as a hunter.

They felt that someone without the experience of the hunt itself, someone who had never ventured into the wilds, couldn't possibly teach the core principles of the Academy.

Yet, Serena's reputation, her heartfelt connection with the people, and her skill with restorative magic had won the majority over, though the debate still lingered.

The matter, as it often did, had divided the room. But the headmaster had always believed that skill was multi-faceted and not confined to one singular path.

Then came Brianna Caleine, the dark mage with a reputation that could freeze the blood of any who'd heard her name.

Her expertise in shadow magic had both terrified and fascinated many, and Eldric could see the unease in his colleagues' eyes as they discussed her.

They were torn between respecting her power and fearing the potential risks of her teaching that same power to students still learning to control their own gifts.

Brianna's history as a dark mage had clouded the judgment of many, but Eldric could not ignore the raw potential of such an instructor.

Next, Valerie Ignis—a force to be reckoned with. The top swordswoman, ranked among the best in the world, and specifically the top fire swordswoman. She was a sword saint candidate, a living legend in her field.

Yet, the discussion had become strangely complicated for the staff. Though few could question her skills, there was a subtle but pervasive undercurrent of doubt about her ability to nurture young students.

Warriors like Valerie, despite their brilliance, often struggled with the patience required to teach students who lacked the same innate talent.

And, Eldric thought, there was something about her reputation that made her seem... distant from those she might be teaching. But there was no denying the immense potential she offered.

Finally, there was Cecilia Aurora, the renowned archer. Half of the staff had expressed concern about her cold, almost aloof nature.

She was brilliant, yes, but some questioned her capacity for empathy, an essential trait in a teacher. However, the other half of the staff—those who valued skill above all else—had argued that Cecilia's expertise was unquestionable.

Her precision and sharpness as an archer were the stuff of legends, and many thought her demeanor was simply a product of her intense focus.

Perhaps, they reasoned, her example could inspire students to strive for perfection, even if they could not emulate her cold demeanor.

As the debates wore on, Eldric could feel the weight of the discussion pressing upon him. The balance between skill, reputation, personality, and empathy was a delicate one.

His mind swirled with the pros and cons of each candidate, but he knew that to make a decision without further reflection would be irresponsible.

He cleared his throat, and the room quieted, all eyes on him.

"Enough," Eldric's voice was firm but calm, carrying the weight of authority that only the headmaster could wield.

"We cannot make hasty decisions. Each of these candidates brings something invaluable to the table, but we cannot afford to ignore the complexities of their roles. The Academy is not just a place of training; it is a place of growth, of understanding. We are not merely shaping warriors or mages, but individuals who will carry our legacy forward." (Gosh dayum long ass dialogue)

He paused, watching the faces of his staff, gauging their reactions. "We need a further discussion, not just on the qualifications of these individuals, but on how they will fit into our teaching philosophy. Each one of you is here for a reason—you bring something unique to our Academy. I expect each of you to reflect not just on their strengths, but on how their personalities, skills, and experiences will mesh with our students. Take time to consider. This is not a decision to be made lightly."

With that, Eldric rose from his seat, signaling the end of the meeting. He could feel the weight of their gaze upon him, some disappointed, some relieved.

But he knew it was the right choice. There was no rushing such a decision—The Academy's future depended on it.

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While they were discussing things, another group, albeit malicious, are also having a "discussion".

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The evil forces gathered in their hidden lair, their plans carefully laid out, their ambitions dark and relentless. A group of cultists, led by a figure known only as the High Summoner, stood around a large stone altar.

It was bathed in flickering candlelight, its surface etched with ancient symbols and sigils, some glowing faintly in the dimness. The air around them buzzed with dark energy, the weight of their intentions pressing down on the very atmosphere.

The High Summoner, a tall, gaunt figure with eyes that gleamed with the promise of destruction, addressed the group.

"The time has come," he said in a voice that held both malice and certainty. "We have waited years for this moment, and now the demon we seek will be summoned."

The cultists nodded in unison, their faces shadowed by hoods. Some were trembling with anticipation, while others wore expressions of hardened determination.

The demon they planned to summon was not just any creature—it was a being of immense power, capable of reducing an entire city to ashes in mere moments. Its name, known only to the ancient texts that had survived countless generations, was whispered in fear by those who knew of it.

"We have gathered the necessary components," the High Summoner continued. "The blood of the innocent, the souls of the damned, and the essence of the darkest magics. All that remains is to perform the ritual in three days' time, during the lunar eclipse. When the moon turns black, our demon will rise."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group. They had carefully orchestrated every detail, sowing chaos and fear in the city over the course of months.

They had infiltrated its institutions, corrupted its leaders, and spread unrest among the people. Now, the city stood on the brink of collapse, ripe for destruction.

"We will strike at the heart of the city," the High Summoner said, his voice cold and merciless. "When the demon is unleashed, nothing will stand in its way. We will break the city's will, and from the ashes, a new world will emerge—one under our control. The weak will fall, and only those who align with our cause will survive."

There was a tense silence as the cultists exchanged glances. They had come so far, and they could feel the darkness swirling around them, growing stronger with each passing moment.

The demon was their key to reshaping the world, and nothing could stop them now. Not even the scattered remnants of resistance that had begun to stir.

One of the cultists, a younger man, stepped forward nervously. "But, High Summoner… what of the city's defenders? They have grown suspicious of our movements. They may try to stop us."

The High Summoner turned toward him with a chilling smile. "Let them come. The demon will destroy them all. Their resistance will be as fleeting as a candle in the wind. We will be ready."

The group fell silent again, the weight of their leader's words settling over them. They had prepared for every contingency, ensuring the city's defenses would crumble before the onslaught of the demon's wrath.

As the cultists dispersed to perform their final tasks, the High Summoner lingered by the altar, gazing into the shadows that seemed to stir around them.

He could already feel the presence of the demon stirring in the abyss, waiting for the moment when it would be released. The power it promised was intoxicating, a force so immense that it could reshape the world in their image.

In the darkness of their lair, the evil forces prepared for the coming days, knowing that once the ritual was complete, the city would be nothing more than a smoldering ruin, and their reign would begin.

There would be no mercy, no forgiveness. The massacre was inevitable, and their vision of a new world would soon be realized.