When I thought of a medical ward, two different, conflicting images came to mind. The first was a rarity. After all, it wasn’t often that I found a pristine ward, with white walls and a clean floor, blue linen, privacy curtains and patients in individual beds. The kind of ward where you could eat off the floor, where the smell of disinfectant and sanitizing liquids were thick in the air. The second type was unfortunately the one I was a lot more accustomed to. Dirt floors, torches, grubby beds that weren’t assigned but fought over. The kind of medical ward where medicine was an afterthought, privacy was non-existent, and magic took the place of actual medicine. Why worry about infection when someone dressed in priestly robes can wave golden light around and heal any injuries?

Aastor apparently shared my sensibilities, however. Since he was clearly powerful enough to make the architecture of the house shift around, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that each individual component was luxurious. Entering the medical ward, I was immediately assailed by the smell of something sharp and astringent. While I couldn’t necessarily identify the exact cause of it, it was probably some kind of cleaning fluid. The ward itself was nearly as I imagined it, complete with a large, floor to ceiling window that ushered in bright morning sunlight. The one thing I didn’t imagine, but probably should have expected, was the slightly miffed Drakul who saw me and immediately turned away.

“Hello Lady Fay.” I bowed, not that she could see it. Fay was still giving me the cold shoulder, something that I intended to rectify in the near future. After all, not only was she a Multiversal Historian and therefore directly relevant to helping me figure out Isekai Hero, she was likely to have a lot of information on how Excelsia worked. Still, I had other things I needed to do for the moment.

There were multiple beds arrayed on one long wall, but only three of them had the curtains drawn. I picked the closest one, since I had no other way of making a choice with Fay refusing to acknowledge my presence, and walked up.

“Excuse me, would you mind if I opened up the curtains?”

“Aye, come on in! It’ll be nice to have company.”

Chanak! Ah, if I had the choice to talk to any of Chanak, Ellem or Baldric, I think my first pick would be “Anyone that’s not Baldric.” Chanak was definitely a lot more immediately useful than Ellem though, and I had a number of questions I wanted him to answer. Hopefully, he was well enough to do so. I pulled the curtain open, and walked through, when Chanak spoke out again.

“Keep them open, will you? They block out all noise when they’re closed, which is nice when I want to sleep, but a little bit…weird otherwise.”

I acquiesced, but I was a little taken aback that Aastor had extended the rules of privacy all the way to soundproofing the beds. Moreover, the curtains didn’t seem obviously magical in any way, so clearly there was a lot going on with Aastor and his Spark that I hadn’t yet had a chance to learn about.

“Chanak, it’s nice to see you doing better.”

“Turns out Drakul are excellent healers. Or at least, Miss Fay is.”

My intuition told me Fay was probably still listening. Not eavesdropping, but she was around, the curtains were open, and the room was quiet. Well, maybe I could win back some points.

“Lady Fay appears to be extremely talented at a number of fields.”

“I’ll need to ask about that then. Anyway, you seem to have won our bet.”

Ah! I’d completely forgotten about the bet. It seemed so far away, as though it had been made aeons ago. I guess fighting a Calamity would do that. How did Excelsian’s even survive, if creatures like that were roaming the lands?

“Yes, I do believe I have. However, I’m not going to force you to take on a job here.”

“Glad to hear it, but I suspect that if Ol’ Man Aastor wanted me to stay, I’d stay.” He looked a little rueful. “Not through any choice, though who knows? Maybe he’d even convince me that it’s what I wanted!”

He threw his head back in a bitter laugh, and I could tell that Chanak felt trapped. It was probably a good idea to put his mind at ease.

“I assure you, the Archmagus has no intention of kidnapping you or forcing you into servitude. However…perhaps you could consider employment more seriously?”

“Blanc, I’m going to consider it but unless it’s-”

“Ten Crowns a week, with free meals and lodging.”

“Like I said, I’m ready to leave my life of crime and turn into an honest Summoned again!” The about turn was almost comical, and I would have laughed but I didn’t quite know how to react to the immediate acceptance of the offer. I hadn’t expected Chanak to accept my opening gambit.

“Are you…sure you don’t want to haggle?” I was more than a little taken aback.

“I am. Ten Crowns? Ten! A week! Ha, aristocrats live a completely different life than we do, don’t they?” He looked giddy with happiness.

“I shall let the Archmagus know you accepted his offer at fifteen Crowns, since you drive a hard bargain.” It was all I could do not to wink at Chanak as I said it. I was still making a little bit more money off Chanak than I had anticipated, but this way, Chanak would hopefully think I was doing him a favor.

The ex-bandit just nodded, and continued to look more than happy at the offer. Clearly, banditry wasn’t paying too well. Which meant that whatever awaited Ellem, Chanak, Ilyana and Baldric back with their Summoners was worse than potentially starving.

“Still not sure what I’ll be expected to do, however.”

“Well…Kel?”

Chirrup!

The hedgehog climbed out of my breastpocket, and began to make her way up and down my arm. She seemed to remember Chanak as the nice man who had given her soup, and wasn’t particularly afraid of him. No trembling or quivering, like when she’d been near Aastor, though that was more likely a result of my own perceptions of Chanak and Aastor than anything else.

“Ah, I see. Not registering her, are you?” I had forgotten how quick on the uptake Chanak could be.

“Not yet. But I still need information on her, and while I’m not fully sure how much you remember from your time at the S.R.C., anything you remember could help.”

“Well, they definitely do a good job at making sure scribes swallow all the information they have. I remember almost everything.”

Chanak’s tone left no doubt about the fact that he was vaguely hinting at something dark, possibly inhumane. Unfortunately, I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

“Chanak?”

“Yes?”

“I was Summoned yesterday.”

“Yes, and I was Summoned four months ago. What’s your-Oh.”

“Yes. I’m pretty unlikely to get any vague hints or references, though I do know you’re hinting at something.”

“Makes perfect sense, sorry. If it helps, nobody outside the S.R.C. knows about what they do deep inside. Well, other than rumors. So it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.”

Okay, but now I needed to know. Clearly the S.R.C. had some way of helping recruits absorb large quantities of information very quickly, that much I could tell from subtext. Depending on what it was, it could prove to be extremely useful. After all, if I could recreate it and use it to learn magic, or perhaps to learn about Sparks, that would be a useful shortcut to take. On the other hand, Chanak could very well be traumatized by whatever they did to him. I’d have to be delicate, but direct.

“Chanak? What, exactly, did they do to you?” My voice was insistent, but I kept it gentle. I didn’t want to force him to talk about something that he wasn’t ready to talk about. “If you could tell me, maybe we can reverse it? Or fix it? Or make them pay?”

“Ah, well. You see, I can’t actually say.”

Of course. Any competent agency would have placed some sort of magical compulsion on all employees, preventing them from spilling their guts about trade secrets. The S.R.C. was likely no different. Chanak had hinted at what they’d done, so he clearly knew what the process was, but just couldn’t tell me or anyone else about it. I should have thought of that earlier.

“Magical compulsion?”

“Mhmm. But if you ask around, I’m sure you could find out. There’s lot’s of rumors, after all, and most are true.”

As the conversation progressed, my intuition was telling me to play dumb. I could pretty easily ask Aastor, and he’d either know, or be able to point me in the right direction. Clearly, he had someone in the S.R.C. who was loyal to him, which meant that there were probably only a few things he was in the dark about. Or I could have asked him to break the compulsion on Chanak. But a little voice told me not to jump at the obvious answer so quickly and to instead let things play out slightly differently.

“Yes, perhaps. I’m not quite sure who would know though. A researcher of some kind, someone high up and well-connected…”

“OH FOR THE LOVE OF-It’s a Brain Parasite!” A frustrated voice cut into the conversation.

—————————————————————————————————————

System Notification: Stat Boost!

The true measure of a Hero is not taking on the challenges they know they can conquer, but taking on the challenges that they may fail.

Intuition: 1 -> 2 (S)

—————————————————————————————————————

Nice! Listening to that little voice appeared to have paid off. Once again, I wondered how exactly Isekai Hero was actually making things like Intuition function. After all, Intuition seemed a little bit like being able to peer into the Future, which meant that the System was likely Omniscient or Prescient.

Either way, my Intuition was correct. Fay was listening in, and apparently had been unable to hold herself back from the back and forth. It was nice to know that scientists and researchers didn’t change from world to world, and were always more than willing to flex their knowledge. I turned to Fay, and decided to continue playing dumb.

“A brain parasite, Lady Fay? Really?”

Chanak, from the background, was nodding. I guess the magical compulsion didn’t quite extend beyond speech, and probably writing. He could likely confirm and deny theories, but not spell out the exact mechanics. Like I said, magic was a dumb tool.

“Yes! A brain parasite. It is an extremely open secret. And only a secret so that Queen Anastasia-” As she said the name, Fay wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Can pretend that she knows nothing of it.”

“An illegal practice then? Or perhaps one that is frowned upon? Or lethal?” I couldn’t really imagine any other reasons behind it.

“The law doesn’t give Summoned many rights, but even so, we can’t simply be killed or tortured.” Chanak chimed in. Again, adjacent topics seemed to be fine, it was just information that pertained directly to the parasites that posed an issue for Chanak. Whoever cast the compulsion was clearly not as skilled as they should be.

“I see. How deadly, exactly, are these parasites, Lady Fay?” From the way Chanak looked at me darkly and the sadness in Fay’s eyes, I knew that the answer wasn’t going to be one I was excited to hear.

“The parasite, a species of Nervakhtar Empresorium, has been academically studied extensively. However, we don’t have lethality rates, exactly. The best guess that researchers had before human experiments were shut down was a survival rate of 10%.”

At this Chanak snorted, prompting Fay to look at him and narrow her eyes. He started to speak, but when he opened his mouth, no words came out. Ah, we’d found one of the forbidden topics. The downside of something like a compulsion was that an outside observer could tell that you were hiding something, even if they didn’t know what. Since Chanak couldn’t speak to the lethality of the brain parasite? It was likely that there was something going on that the S.R.C. didn’t want others to find out about.

On an unrelated note: I was envious of Chanak. The man was allowed to simply go mute when he hit upon something forbidden. I, on the other hand, was struck with extreme strangulation. Discrimination, plain and simple!

Fay continued, her voice taking on a professorial tone.

“All early research into the Nervakhtar was conducted on Excelsians, however. So the data is skewed, slightly.” Fay’s voice had dropped, and taken on a much more sombre tone. “But we think that with Summoned, because of biological differences? Probably a survival rate of 0.1% or so.”

This time, Chanak had no reaction, but his eyes had begun to display a strained and haunted look.

“When the parasite acclimates to a host, it secretes a magical fluid that strengthens brainpower and learning processes almost a hundredfold.” She paused. “It’s quite…beautiful, mathematically. With a 10% survival rate and a 100x increase in intelligence, it could be considered a worthwhile tradeoff, at least in overall ability.”

Ah, but with Summoned…killing off almost one thousand people to tremendously boost one person’s brainpower? That seemed unwise. It seemed like it would be highly inefficient. Of course, that depended on how much you valued the life of the Summoned, or how many Summoned you had on hand. And since there were nearly limitless numbers of Summoned, nearly limitless guinea pigs to use for the Parasites…

“And when the Parasite does not take, it simply nests in the poor Summoned’s body. It makes a home, and uses the body as fuel. A ghastly site. And even when it does acclimate to a host, the host can always feel it. An alien presence in the mind, secreting pure magic.”

She shook her head. “

The Queen likes to pretend as though the S.R.C. is a miraculous facility, only accepting the best and brightest. In truth, they accept everyone. They make them the best and brightest, or wind up killing them in the process.”

Her pseudo-lecture done, Fay sat down in a chair, the professorial demeanor fading. The Drakul looked exhausted and sad. Whatever the secret to Fay’s immortality was, I couldn’t imagine it would involve torturing or draining people, given how incredibly despondent she looked at the thought of the brain parasites chewing through the innocent Summoned.

I wanted to ask Chanak more questions, but one look at the poor man made me realize that he was in no fit state to answer. As Fay had been speaking, I’d been more or less completely focused on her, but apparently Chanak had been slowly reliving the memories of his time at the S.R.C. And from what Fay had said, they were not pleasant memories in the least. Still, once he came to, he was going to be an extremely valuable asset for Aastor and for me. Essentially a walking database on S.R.C. research! Albeit one that had been traumatized to the extreme.

“Get some rest, friend. I will return a little later, and maybe we can keep talking.”

He just nodded dumbly, settling back down into the bed. The sprightly demeanor was gone. Fay followed my lead as I stepped back and drew the curtains closed.

“Which of these is Baldric, and which is Ellem?”

“Baldric is in the middle, he insisted on it. Said he wanted to be able to talk to everyone when they woke, even when I told him that they couldn’t hear him through the curtains and vice versa.”

“Ellem’s by the window?”

“Yes.”

“Would it do me any good to apologize?”

“Would you also be admitting to being a liar?”

I cleared my throat. There was an easy solution to this particular conundrum.

“Grimmar. Asheotora. Haroun. The Sleales Emperium. The Sunriser Dynast.” I took a deep breath as Fay raised an eyebrow. “Zara D-12. Finality. Asan-Oceam. The Lost. Volvafjord, though I may not be pronouncing that quite correctly. Sturun. Panipanth. And finally, Excelsia.”

“And what, pray tell, was that string of gibberish?”

“The names of the worlds I’ve been to.”

At this, Fay started laughing. Not in an unkind way, but definitely not in the kind of way that would imply forgiveness.

“Blanc, there are hundreds of worlds. Thousands, Millions maybe! Do you really think that I have all of them memorized?”

Oh. Good point. I would have acknowledged that, but clearly, she wasn’t finished.

“In fact, do you even think that the inhabitants of each world call them the same thing? If you leave the Queendom and travel for a few weeks, you’ll reach Blue Mystic. If you ask them where we live, they’ll tell you it’s Yixilia, which is close to Excelsia but not close enough to be the same thing.” Her laughter had subsided and she began to talk about her subject, and been replaced by passion. At least it wasn’t anger. “And! You may not have been around long enough to find any discerning features, or learn any history, or know anything useful.”

Ouch! I most certainly had been! In fact, on almost all twelve of those worlds, I was history. Written in books and portrayed in statues and all that!

“But you must at least admit that I was not lying.”

“How would I know? In fact, you could still be lying and just be very, very good at it.” She paused, thinking. “But…further investigation is required. Who knows, perhaps you are in fact one in a trillion.”

“Well, as long as we can acknowledge that I meant no harm.”

“That remains to be seen.” With that, Fay sat back down near the window, and continued to read from a notebook. I shrugged, internally. There wasn’t really a very good chance of being able to convince Fay without an extended conversation, and she didn’t seem to be up for that yet.

Instead, I walked up to Ellem’s curtain, opened it a touch and called out.

“Ellem, may I come in?”

Her voice was the same as before. Gravelly and deep, it reminded me of a rolling boulder, but in a strangely calming way.

“Of course.”

I pulled the curtain back.

“I’m glad to see you doing better.”

Ellem looked perfectly fine, with not a scratch on her. However, her face did not have the look of recognition that I had hoped for.

“It’s me, Blanc. We spoke last night, before the Calamity attacked us?”

“Blanc?”

“That’s right. I do have new clothes, and I took a shower, so I understand your hesitation. But it’s still me.”

“We spoke last night, you say?”

“We did.”

“I do not recall.”

“Well, it’s been a stressful night. I’m sure it’ll come back.”

The curtain shifted behind me. Fay had once again decided to take part in the conversation, clearly trying to tell me something. But before she could, Ellem spoke again.

“No, I am afraid you do not understand. I do not recall anything.”