Trials Of Life

Chapter 20: Blessed By The Unfortunate

The rain continued its relentless drizzle, a soft, steady patter against the scorched earth. Thin beams of sunlight fought to pierce through the oppressive clouds, casting faint glimmers over the smoldering battlefield. Steam rose from the dying flames, their final flickers fading into the heavy air. Yumiko struggled to push herself up from the ground, her legs trembling beneath her as she willed her body to stand. Each step was a battle, her vision blurring at the edges, every movement sending fresh waves of pain searing through her limbs.

She limped toward Lukas, heart pounding in her chest, a mixture of fear and desperation driving her forward even as her body screamed for rest. When she finally reached him, her legs buckled, and she collapsed into the mud beside him. Her fingers clawed into the wet earth as she tried to pull herself closer, gasping for breath. The last of the flames that had surrounded them flickered out, leaving only the eerie silence of the aftermath.

"Lukas..." she whispered, voice raw with fear as her eyes traced the damage to his body. His arms were covered in lacerations, the skin around his hands torn from the sheer force of his magic. His face was smeared with blood and mud, his expression locked in the agony of battle. A large burn marred his shoulder, the result of Tristen's attack.

Her heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t moving.

She hovered over him, the rain mixing with the dirt and blood, washing away the grime but doing nothing to quell the rising panic within her. She hovered closely, placing her hand on his torso, "Thank the gods," she exhaled, feeling the faint rise and fall of his chest. He was alive—barely.

Yumiko extended her trembling hands, willing herself to summon the healing magic she needed to save him, but nothing came. Exhaustion weighed her down like chains. She couldn’t even muster the faintest flicker of mana.

“C’mon!” she growled through gritted teeth, trying again. Her hands shook, fingers outstretched, but still, nothing.

Beneath her palms, she could feel something far worse than the visible wounds. Lukas’s life force felt distant, as if it were slipping away, thinning like a weak pulse on the edge of disappearing.

"Oi! Wake up!" Her voice cracked as she shook him, but Lukas remained still. Panic surged through her. Her head spun, and darkness crowded the corners of her vision. She looked down, noticing deep cuts on her own body that she hadn’t been able to heal before. Her strength was gone, spent in the battle that had nearly cost them their lives.

Suddenly, the fragile silence was broken by the rustle of leaves. The sound came from the treeline, and Yumiko’s instincts flared. Bandits? Her heart lurched.

With a shaky hand, she grabbed a knife from one of the fallen enemies, her grip unsteady but determined. She raised the blade, crouching low beside Lukas, her body tense. Eyes fixed on the forest, she watched as three figures emerged from the misty rain, their forms indistinct through the haze.

Her breath hitched. Were they more enemies? Reinforcements for Tristen?

The figure in front—a middle-aged man—raised his hands in alarm the moment he saw her. His eyes widened, darting between Yumiko and the devastation behind her. Rain dripped from the brown stubble on his chin, and the golden circular glasses perched on his nose glinted in the pale light.

“We’re here to help!” the man at the front shouted, his voice edged with surprise but free of aggression. His hands remained raised in a gesture of peace. Behind him, the two men exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes sweeping over the battlefield—bodies strewn across the scorched ground, the shattered trees still smoking from the flames of battle. Both wore armor with various utilities strapped to their belts. One had a headband holding back long, wet hair, while the other bore a small scar on his cheek.

“What the hell happened?” the man with the headband muttered, his tone a mix of awe and confusion. “Did… did they take out all the others too?”

Yumiko’s heart pounded as she held her stance, the knife trembling slightly in her exhausted hand. Her body screamed for relief, her arms heavy with fatigue, but she forced herself to stay alert. She narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge if these newcomers were friend or foe. Her grip on the blade remained firm despite the overwhelming urge to collapse.

The adventurer with the scar took a step forward, his eyes locking onto Lukas. “Is he... alive?” The question cut through the tension, bringing Yumiko’s focus back to the dire situation.

The man with the glasses snapped at his companions. “Offer your hands in peace!” he barked, his glare sharp.

The long-haired man hesitated, looking around warily. “What if there are more bandits nearby?” he asked, clearly reluctant to give up his weapons.

“She’s in shock! Do as I say, or we risk starting another fight!” The man’s voice was firm, a note of urgency cutting through the rain-soaked air. He shot a warning look at his hesitant companion, who begrudgingly raised his hands.

Yumiko lowered her knife slightly, but her grip remained tense. She wasn’t ready to trust them yet.

The man with the scar stood frozen, his gaze darting between the wreckage of the battlefield and Yumiko, who hovered protectively beside Lukas. She was like a wounded animal, guarding the unconscious man as if he were all that mattered. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her tired eyes fixed on the strangers, ready to defend Lukas if it came to that.

The man with the circular glasses stepped forward, undeterred by his companions’ unease. “You’re safe now,” he said gently, keeping his hands raised to show he meant no harm. His voice was calm, but there was an urgency beneath the surface, as though he were speaking to someone on the verge of breaking. “I’m a doctor—a healer. These two are adventurers, level fours. We were in the second wagon from the capital and came to check on the attack.”

The man with the scar nodded rapidly, raindrops bouncing off his head. “Yeah! A guy from the other wagon told us there was a woman from his homeland in danger, so we followed the sound of the fight.” His eyes scanned the battlefield, lingering on the destruction that surrounded them. “We heard the explosions,” he added, a note of awe creeping into his voice as he took in the devastation.

The man with the glasses stepped forward again, his voice soft but insistent. “Please, let us help. Let me help you,” he urged, his sincerity cutting through the tension like a blade.

“Trust them.” The ethereal voice echoed in Yumiko’s ear. “You are safe, brave one.”

Yumiko’s grip on the knife faltered. The fight drained out of her, her body finally giving in to the overwhelming fatigue. The blade slipped from her fingers, landing with a dull thud in the mud. She slumped beside it, no longer able to maintain the façade of strength, her trembling body collapsing under the weight of exhaustion.

The doctor rushed forward, cursing softly under his breath. “Gods damn it,” he muttered, shrugging off his jacket as he rolled up his sleeves. He knelt between Lukas and Yumiko, his eyes narrowing with the intensity of a man who had fought death before and wasn’t ready to lose. His hands moved with practiced precision as he assessed their injuries. The adventurer with long hair joined him, worry creasing his face.

“W-what’s wrong with her?” the adventurer asked, his voice shaky.

“She’s exhausted, bleeding, and her right shoulder’s burned badly. There’s shrapnel lodged in her body,” the doctor muttered, working quickly over Yumiko’s injuries. “I can stabilize her for now, but she’ll need stronger healing spells later.” Though his voice remained calm, the deepening concern in his eyes betrayed his fears.

Then he turned to Lukas, and his expression darkened.

“Broken ribs, severe burn on the left shoulder...” he began, casting a diagnostic spell. Soft glowing symbols floated above Lukas’ chest, revealing the extent of the damage. The doctor’s breath caught. “Gods… He’s dying!”

“Dying?” the long-haired adventurer echoed, his voice rising with panic.

“Mana rebound,” the doctor spat in frustration. “He pushed his magic far beyond his natural affinity. It’s tearing him apart from the inside out. I need to stabilize his ribs first, or any healing magic will be useless.”

Without hesitation, the doctor tore away Lukas’s leather armor and opened his shirt, revealing the full extent of his battered body. Scars and fresh lacerations criss crossed his chest, evidence of countless battles fought and barely survived.

“What the hell happened to him?” the adventurer gasped, his eyes wide with shock as he took in the sight.

The other adventurer, who had been silent until now, stepped closer, staring at a set of deep, jagged slashes across Lukas’ side. “Are those… claw marks?”

“These are from earlier battles,” the doctor said grimly, his hands glowing with green light as he prepared a healing spell for Lukas’ shattered ribs. “But the real damage is internal. If I don’t act fast, he won’t make it.”

His words hung heavy in the air as the doctor’s magic flared brighter, his brow furrowed with concentration. He glanced back at the two adventurers, his voice sharp with urgency. “Get the wagon here, now! I need my medical supplies if I’m going to save him!”

The two men hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances. “But we’re supposed to stay and protect—”

“Now!” the doctor barked, his patience snapping. The authority in his voice sent the adventurers scrambling, their boots kicking up mud as they sprinted toward the wagons, the weight of their duty heavy on their shoulders.

With a frustrated shake of his head, the doctor turned back to his patients, already focusing his healing magic on Lukas. As the green light flickered over his ribs, the doctor muttered to himself, “Hold on, both of you… I’m not letting either of you die here.”