He had fought many, killed some, and injured far more than he could remember. Facing death in every fight, in some battles, he could almost feel how he was grabbed by cold fingers, dragged away from this world... but he clung onto his life with a grip stronger than even that he had on his sword. Betting their very lives alongside the fate of their people, every fight, that is what champions did. With those stakes, neither side could afford to lose. And yet, right now, Auren Rhodis was merely toying with his opponent.

“Hey, you're tired already? I told you, giving it your all is not enough! You should use your strength, not waste it! But you have become much better! If you keep going like this, you'll have surpassed me in but a few decades!”

His opponent did not answer, as he had to consecrate his entire concentration to the fight. But fatigue was grinding away his strength, mentally, physically. One mistake. One opening. An opening Auren would not miss.

“You're dead!”

His sword moved as if it had a will of its own, all attempts to evade were futile. Seconds thereafter, his opponent collapsed on the ground.

“Well, that's it for today... gosh, I'm starving! Elsia said she was going to make Stormcloud Deer Stew today?”

While Auren was already imagining the delicious meal he would have for dinner... the body on the ground moved!

He got back up, took his blade... and sheathed it. His voice interrupted by heavy breathing, he spoke.

“Stop teasing me... you will always be the best! You showed... no openings during... the entire battle!”

“Who do you think I am? Of course I would show no openings! But you're still this young, and you lasted this long! Just how much have you trained while I was gone? Next time you suddenly power up like that, tell me beforehand! We spend so much time fighting, your mother must be waiting for us!”

Auren had returned from a battle in the arena but a few hours ago, and the very first thing he did upon arriving at his home was to accept his son’s challenge to yet another duel. He had expected him to improve within the time he was gone… but never would he have thought that his son would be able to maintain a flawless stance for more than an hour!

“Father… your shoulder, doesn’t it hurt?”

“Eh? What are you talking about? You didn’t even land one single blow! Haha, could it be you are getting ahead of yourself? I’m starving-”

“-growl-”

“And it looks like I’m not the only one! Come on, let’s go.”

When he first learned the ways of the blade, Quintus had looked up to his father as an invincible, flawless fighter. Aspiring to get closer to him, he devoted most of his time to training in the ways of the blade. Whenever his father returned from one of his battles, Quintus would proudly show him how he had improved his mastery of the stances, techniques… and soon he grew strong enough to have mock battles with his father.

Yet the stronger he became… the more he was able to see slight flaws in his father’s movements. Flaws that should not be there. He knew how an injury would impede one's movement. Skilled fighters were able to keep their stance even when heavily wounded… but even the best would not remain entirely unaffected. Soon he understood that despite the way he acted, his father was not as invulnerable as he had believed.

Upon entering their house…

“Mother!”

“Quintus, get the medicine!”

Rushing into another room and grabbing a small earthenware vial, when Quintus returned, his father had already put his mother on the bed. Carefully, he let her drink the medicine.

“This… truly tastes awful,” she said with a weak smile and an even weaker voice.

His mother had a weak body. Once in a while, she would simply faint. It made him anxious every time, even though it had been like this since he could remember, and she said that it wasn’t that bad... but lately… it was getting worse.

Medicine was something elves rarely needed, so those producing medicine rarely got to make money… which is why the price they charged was just exorbitant. Luckily Auren’s positions as the tribe’s champion gave him the means to buy from the Caballs, the only family in their small village able to make medicine.

After having recovered enough, Elsia joined her son and her husband, who had left the bedroom and were already eating. It was not that they didn’t worry about her, no… but this had happened so many times that it had become part of their daily life. While both Quintus and Auren were feasting over the stew, she only ate a salad made from various plants said to have healing effects. The Caballs had warned her that the consumption of meat would aggravate her condition.

The next day, while Auren was out hunting in the forest, Quintus listened to elder Trevor as he told stories about the old times. He did so voluntarily, and as he was an elder, the other villagers didn’t dare disrespect his wishes. The children of the village had to be taught about their culture, even if many things had changed after the war… thus was Trevor’s conviction. He had inherited the tradition and the stories from the elder before him, which had inherited them from his ancestor… the Graham´s had always been gifted with an excellent memory and a long life.

All of the children of the village had come to listen to him. Well… since Doria Galion and Lionel Edhel had recently married, only Carmela Caball and Quintus were left. Occasionally some adults would also listen to Trevor, but most had more important matters to take care of… hunt, maintain their equipment and homes… there was always something to do. Also, there were only so many times one could listen to Trevor talking about gods and the days of old…

“Spirits… they are that which remains when someone dies without truly dying. A soul without a body to belong to. Some of them cannot leave because they are too attached to this world, others just have bad luck… because eventually, forced to roam the world with no body, only able to watch… they will become mad, corrupted. They will seek for a vessel to unleash their evil desires, will let themselves into the body of another being… be it through sheer power or by trickery! If they are able to do so… horrible things will happen! Even the soul is not meant to be eternal! For if it is not cleansed, the filth it amasses will consume it! So pray to Vichama, for if you do not, he may just overlook you!”

“Esteemed elder Trevor… Vichama, being a divine, how could he overlook a soul?”

“Ha! Even the divines are not omniscient! For they are but part of a whole! So you should pray as to make them notice your small presence in this world… …”

“Sorry, I lost myself there… now, where did I leave off…”

Listening to Trevor's stories, training, helping his mother out… that was what Quintus life consisted of. His father would go away from time to time, defending the village due to a squabble over some territory or the like… then he would come back, Quintus would duel with him… that was how it always had been. Before leaving Auren would motivate his son to keep training, and as always, that’s what he did this time as well.

“Hey, who knows, if you keep training while I’m gone, you might even land a hit on me next time!”

Those would be the last words Quintus would hear from his father.

“Our tribe just recently lost its greatest champion, but while he was not the only one able to fight… if left like this, the situation with the other tribes could worsen drastically. I see you seem to have the talent necessary to inherit your father's position? It truly must run in the blood... so… if I were to come up for the cost of your mother's medicine, you would devote yourself to your training entirely… the fact that you thus indirectly threatened to not do so aside(!) I understand your situation. I will pay for your mother's medicine. However, I expect great things of you! Do not disappoint me!”

“Of course, esteemed elder Dewid.”

And thus, Quintus spend his days training, eating and sleeping, just to wake up with an aching body, repeating this cycle endlessly. Whether he was truly talented or not… he did not have a choice anyways. And while he had already devoted his life to training and mastering the blade… his motivation now was different entirely.

In honor of his father, he trained using his blade, even if it did not have the right size for him yet... but during one of his training sessions...

“You want to save your mother, right?”

“Who is here!”

“You know… I think I know how she could be cured. Not just slightly relieved, but cured.”

“Who are you? Show yourself!”

“Ah… sorry for not introducing myself… my name… hmm… I’m Mana. Now, about my question…”

It was only then that Quintus realized where the voice was coming from.

The very sword he was holding in his hands… for a sword to talk, that could only mean… but this was his father's sword! How could it become possessed! And even if he should destroy it… there was just now way he could actually do it!

“Ehm… why are you being so silent… no, don’t tell me! … oh, come on!”

Having locked away the now possessed blade, Quintus prayed to Vichama to forgive him for his sin of not having destroyed it instead.

“Well, if that’s how you want to play… I spend quite some time waiting already, a few more years ain’t gonna hurt.”

Quintus continued his training, even if he was now unable to use his father's cherished blade. And his hard work paid off. Everyone knew just who the next “greatest champion” of their tribe would be. And while a champion's task was a dangerous one indeed, the privileges that came with it were not negligible either, as one could tell from the fact that his father had been able to afford his mother's medicine... making many envious of Quintus.

But with the elders standing behind him, who would dare to openly show this? And thus Quintus' life of waking up only to train until he would fall asleep again went on, and on.. buteven with this situation, Quintus was happy. He knew that what he did was for the sake of his mother, so he did it gladly. Soon he would become fifteen and have his coming of age ceremony, learn about how to use the divine energy… he would also have to consider marriage, and even if in his case there was only a single choice… this was normal for elves. They would learn to love each other during the time they spend together, that was how it should be.

With the ceremony drawing ever closer, he spent more and more time thinking about his future… and upon his initiation to magic, Dewid was more than anticipating just how talented Quintus would be. While all elves could use the divine energy, some excelled at it… yet...

“What is this!”

“Esteemed elder, did I make a mistake?”

“A… mistake? You ask me… if you made a mistake?”

“Tell me… an elf without mana, what’s the mistake with that? Just who is supposed to have made a mistake!”

“Esteemed-”

“Get out! … leave this house right now.”

“Esteem-”

“I told you to leave… did... you not understand me?”

“And, how did it go?”

“Shut up.”

“Eh? You’re in a bad mood? So they found out you can’t use mana…”

“How!-”

“You shouldn’t underestimate me. Feel like taking my offer now? Since your sponsors are gone, I guess you won’t be able to keep buying that stuff that dares to call itself medicine…”

Ignoring the sword's offer, he went to his mother's room, a small vial in his hand. There were only 12 more left on the shelf he had taken it from.

(sigh… having a spirit’s reputation sure does suck. I mean come on, he couldn't he trust me a little?)

Help: Well, soon he will have no choice but to trust us.

(that… kinda sounds like what the villains would say… but it’s those quacks fault! Their so called medicine contains… ehm…)

Help: Water, various carbohydrates, minerals, multiple trace elements. The Iron within accounts for roughly 1% of the amount that would be required to actually improve her health after taking into consideration her current diet and the fact the she is to consume one vial every 15 days. It would be utterly useless if not for the various agents within it that help stabilize her condition after falling unconscious. That was the thing you were so annoyed about, can’t you, at least, keep that in mind?

(Hey, it’s been over a year since then! And I’ve been busy trying to use this ability of mine myself, because right now the only one able to handle data on the atomic scale is you!)

Help: I have already explained that doing so is not necessary by any means, but as it is your desire to do so… should I add an overlay display to make interpreting the data easier?

(that… would be good. Yeah, do it.)

(This… looks awesome! Hey… what’s this?)

Help: I am currently still working on it, but it should be possible to use Quintus' vision as our own by analyzing the chemical reactions occurring within his eyes. As the color spectrum perceived by elves is slightly different from yours, I am still trying to determine the ideal conversion of inputs, once this is done, it should be possible to overlay it with your density sense.

(How long till you’re done?)

Help: If desired, I could dedicate more processing power to complete this task within the next 48 hours. However, the progress of various other background projects would be greatly slowed down during this time.

(Just do it.)

Help: Understood.

News traveled fast in the small village, especially the interesting ones, so it did not take long until everyone knew that Quintus not only had lost the elders protection but was an elf- that could not use Mana! The envy that had accumulated itself over the past years was now finally set free, sparking the almost systematic bullying of Quintus by those who would have been candidates back then if not for him. They obviously were strong, and Quintus could be considered to be the weakest character in the village, so no one dared to interfere. Under these conditions, a vicious cycle of ever-escalating actions was formed.

Provoking him to duels in which they would beat him using the skills they had learned to shame him in front of an audience, if he tried to ignore them, they would keep insulting not only him but even.. his mother and his dead father. His father became the greatest weakling for having died in the arena, his mother a “failure of a living being” both for having a weak body and giving birth to him, those were insults he could not ignore.

He came home with bruises, scars, burns.. but those he could ignore. The wounds he was able to inflict before falling unconscious were all the retribution he needed. Even his mother's sad look could not compare to what truly made his heart ache- looking at the shelf on which only 2 bottles remained. They would last for little more than a month, what should he do after that?

(Honestly… if he keeps acting like this it’s going to be too late even if I were to act… guess I have no choice…)

“You know, if you could trust me just one time.. just look at yourself! Do you think this will get better just because you accept it? I'm pretty sure you don't, and you know exactly just what is going to happen once that last bottle is empty. That is if you keep following the orders of those quacks! How long are you going to cling to these illusions of pride and honor! You should know best just how people act towards the weak! How much they care about them! Now tell me, why should you trust these people any more than me?”

…

“What… what is it that I should do?”

“So you finally feel like talking with me… first of all, give your mother some meat to eat! Lots of it! Liver is the best way to go in most cases! Obviously, cook it first... that's not actually necessary, but I guess that no one would want to eat raw meat. The effects won't be immediate, but she should notice an effect within a month. And even if there are other methods that would be even more efficient, I'm sure that you wouldn't believe me and claim I'm just trying to poison your mother again...”

“But that’s-”

“Exactly the opposite of what the Caballs told you to do. I know. Actually, that’s what has been confusing me the most. Anyways… I told you how you can cure her, now whether or not you believe me or cling on to the hope of some other savior… that’s up to you.”

“You… still haven’t done it? Mind telling me why?”

“How am I supposed to face her! If I were to tell her that doing the exact opposite to what the Caballs told her to do would cure her… and that that I’ve been told so by a spirit!”

“Sigh… look, there are two options. You do it, or you don’t do it. It’s no use thinking about the how as long as you aren’t certain about the if. So, do you want to cure your mother?”

“Of course!”

“And as this means she will have to eat meat, you want her to eat meat. Now all that’s left is to ask yourself how to do it and then just do it. Don’t ponder about the other stuff, that’s wasting precious time.”

“But-”

“And that’s exactly what you should never say or think about. No buts. Just do it.”

…

With his mother's condition worsening, Quintus took care of almost all of the chores in the house, this included cooking...

“Mother… please eat this.”

“This…” not finishing her sentence, with a faint smile on her face, she ate what Quintus had prepared.

Awkward silence accompanied the sound of mother and son eating, the faint noises of the tableware. It was a melody that would sound during many meals to follow. But soon a new tune would play…

“Told you, right? She’s doing much better already.”

“Thank you. Your name is Mana, is that correct? I am deeply-”

“Hey, no need to act like this! I saw myself able to save a life, of course I would do it! But honestly… if you had listened to me earlier, no one would have had to go through all of this trouble. Well, can’t really blame you I guess.”

“You…”

“What is it?”

“Well…”

“Oh, come on, just say it! Don’t just start talking and then stop just to tease me!”

“Why are you helping me? I… expected you to ask for something in return... “

“Yeah. Actually… there is something I would like you to do.”

“You saved my mother's life, but even so, I will not-”

“Could you go walk to the Caballs house, taking me alongside you? Just that. Also, sorry for interrupting you, but I didn’t feel like listening to what you were about to say because you misunderstood my intentions.”

“...why would you want to go to the Caballs house?”

“Just want to check something out. I’m pretty sure you’d like to know it too… why they told your mother to do something that prevented her from recovering.”

“Why would that brat disobey us! He has been hunting a lot more, and his mother is doing better… it’s obvious what he is doing! But why would he do it? He couldn’t have found us out?”

“There’s no need to worry… not even we ourselves understand his mother's sickness, how would he be able to do it! Even after going through all of our books, we only found out that if given enough meat someone suffering from it will slowly recover… there’s no way for him to be more knowledgeable about it than us! He must have gotten lucky!”

“You… you’re right! But… what will happen now that he discovered that doing the opposite of what we told him was the actual cure?”

“There’s no way for him to prove that right? And with his position compared to ours, how many would listen to him? Come on, let’s celebrate! Let’s celebrate those 150 years during which we made the greatest profit of our lives!”

“You heard them! Well, whether or not you believe me is up to you… but that’s what I heard them say.”

His father had been strong… but even so, even if, being strong, he had to risk his life in the arena… if he would have crippled himself but slightly, he would have lost his position, be able to live a normal life…

“...Quintus?”

but only as the champion could he afford the medicine for his mother… he had died for this medicine… this medicine…

Slowly, a sensation began to creep through Quintus mind and body. He had known sadness, fear, pain, regret.. but this felt different. Vastly different. Burning like pain and anger, but this was not a hot flame. It was cold. Freezing cold.

Spoiler : That day would be known as one of the greatest- and later as the worst days in the history of the Southern Lake Tribe. That day Aurens wife, Elsia, gave birth to her first child. Of course that was an event to be celebrated! However, this event would also leave a scar on their family- Elsia had always had a weak body, and after giving birth her condition had worsened, and the medicine she took merely slowed down the process. But their worries faded whenever they looked at their son.

He grew up to be a bright and cheerful child. He quickly learned to speak, and showed great interest in mastering the way of the sword, to the great pleasure of his father. Moreover, he seemed to have great talent! Their small family was a happy one. However..

“Father, you are going again?”

“Don't worry, I will be back in a week. Take care of your mother for me while I'm gone!”

“Yes father!”

He did not show it.. but Quintus was very worried for his father. Whenever he “went out” he would come back with wounds all over his body. They were hidden under his clothes, but Quintus was able to tell from the changes in his fathers movement, how he was trying to hide that which he did not want to be seen. He had long figured out just what a “champions” purpose was, it was no secret- those with power would be granted many privileges in their tribe.. but in exchange, they would have to risk their lives in fights in the arena. The arena was a means of “peacefully” solving issues between tribes- instead of the entirety of it's members, only one person of the tribe would have to risk his life. And it was obvious that a champions goal was not only to win, but also to reduce the rival tribe's assets.. that is, to kill or cripple their champion.

But Auren was a strong person indeed. Even if he did not always win, he was able to avoid fatal injury every time. That is until one day.. where it was not him who returned to Quintus, but his sword, alongside the message of his death.

That message was devastating enough for Quitus and his mother. However, while neither could claim that to be unaffected by this event, both had prepared themselves for this situation, they knew it was bound to happen one day. What truly made their situation turn for the worse were the consequences.. his mother was too weak and he himself was only 12 yet, far too young to have the power to defend himself against the creatures of the forest. And if he did not hunt rare, valuable beast or gather rare ingredients, how was he supposed to pay for his mothers expensive medicine? This was not a world in which people would care for the weak. And his fathers savings would only last for so long. He had no choice, even if it was impossible, he simply HAD to get stronger.

In 3 years he would have his coming of age ceremony, and would be initiated to the usage of mana for the first time. However, he did not have that time! But not all hope was lost. His talent as a swordsman was obvious, and the elders had already set their sights on this potential candidate to be their tribes next champion. It would take years until he could reach a level rivaling his father, but to elves, who got up to 1000 years old, such a small amount of time did not matter.

Utterly indulged in training the techniques his father had left behind, he had no time to “play around” with those he called his friends anymore. One day, he was looking at his fathers sword, his family's heirloom..

“Hey Quintus, you want to save your mother right?”

(?!?)

Quintus was shocked. Because.. there was no one but him within this room, and the voice.. clearly came from his father sword. A spirit had taken possession of his fathers sword?!? He knew what he had to do.. that spirit had to be destroyed. But what if the sword was destroyed alongside it?? It was the heirloom his father had left behind, the mere thought of destroying it..

“Hey, I asked you something! You want to save your mother or not?”

One should never listen to the words of a spirit. He had made his decision. He took the blade, placed it inside a drawer and closed it.

“You think I'd shut up just because you did this? I know you can still hear me! But know what, if that's what you want...”

From that day on, the sword did not speak anymore. Quintus continued his training. And his hard work paid of. Due to his abilities simply dwarfing those of the others, one of the elders promised to take care for the costs, as long as he did not neglect his training. With that, it was already clear just who would become the next “champion”. While a champion's task was a dangerous one indeed, the privileges that came with it were not negligible either, as one could tell from the fact that his father had been able to afford his mothers medicine, making many envious of Quintus.

But with the elders standing behind him, who would dare to openly show this? And thus Quintus life of waking up only to train until he would fall asleep again went on, and on.. but even with this situation, Quintus was happy. He knew that what he did was for the sake of his mother, so he did it gladly. But after his coming of age ceremony...

“Now then Quintus, it is time for you to understand the way to use mana. One must first focus it into a part of ones body, to then unleash it with an incantation. You should have been able to feel the mana within your body since you were young, perhaps you even understood how to control it, but without the incantation nothing will happen. I am sure you understand that we only teach them to those who have completed their coming of age ceremony to avoid accidental catastrophes caused by misusing a skill, so do never teach someone that has not reached adulthood what you will learn here!”

“Of course, esteemed elder.”

“Now, first try to focus on feeling your mana.”

...

“Esteemed elder, I apologize if this question seems stupid but.. how does mana feel like?”

“To someone like you, who hasn't mastered its control yet, it should be like a strange force flowing through ones body.”

“Esteemed elder, I am sorry, but I have never felt anything of the sort.”

...

“You.. are sure that that is the case?”

“I wouldn't lie to esteemed elder!”

Quintus answer seemed to be honest, but it was impossible for it to be true! Elder Dewid had gone through this process with many students already, some had already mastered the control of their mana by then! For Quintus to not even have noticed it, it was just impossible!

..

“Quintus, give me your hand.”

Without questioning the elders intentions, Quintus followed the order.

..

“This.. it cannot be! Just.. what kind of condition is this?!?”

“Esteemed elder, did I do something wrong?”

“.. if you did something wrong?!? Let me ask you, an elf without Mana, what's wrong with it?!?” the elder screamed in an almost desperate way.

Quintus didn't even require a second to understand just what this meant. And the shock of this realization turned his initial confusion.. into dread.

Dewid had spend a fortune on raising this child! Even he didn't dare to offend the sole family that knew how to produce medicine, and just like every other, the medicine for that child's mother was incredibly expensive! All to keep Quintus motivated, so that he would become as strong as he had to be! And yet.. he who believed to have polished a diamond, realized that he had been holding onto a shard of glass all along.

“Leave. Leave this house right now.”

“Esteem-

-I told you to leave. Did you not understand me?!”

Not daring to keep disobeying the elders orders, he left the house, leaving what could have been a bright future behind him. And upon entering his family's house..

“And, how did it go?”

“Shut up.”

There was no reason for him to show even the slightest hint of respect towards the owner of this voice, for that person was not his beloved mother, but..

“Eh, you seem to be in a bad mood? What happened? Did they finally discover that you are unable to use mana?”

“How do you know that!?”

“You shouldn't underestimate me. Feel like taking my offer now? Your mother won't be able to last long if you are unable to buy this stuff that dares call itself medicine.”

Ignoring the sword's offer, he went to his mothers room, a small bottle in his hand. There were only 12 more bottles left on the shelf he had taken it from.

(he really doesn't know what's good for him.. well, some of this is my fault, but if I give him the talent he requires to become a champion, he'll just get himself killed in the arena, like his father.. even with, no, because of his talent.)

The “talking sword” was no one else but Mana, who had revealed herself to Quintus shortly after his fathers death. Mana hadn't actually become the sword, but she let the soundwaves she produced using Mana conversion come from its direction. She was able to manipulate objects after conversion had hit level 2, at level 1 the skill let her heat objects. She merely played around with that ability until the skill reached level 2.

(honestly, this world is rotten. This “medicine”, is 50% placebo, 49% hopes and dreams and 1% iron. And that's what his mother needs! But these quacks told them to avoid meat at all costs! And this idiot actually believes them! I may be a spirit like those responsible for great evil and in the old tales, but that's no reason to not trust me! It's these quacks that are lying!)

How could Mana tell the medicines contents? Mana detection had reached level 5, and with it, Mana was able to sense on the molecular level, if only in the Mana of her veins.

Help: Well, it should not take much longer until he will have no choice but to trust us.

News traveled fast in the small village, especially the interesting ones, so it did not take long until everyone knew that Quintus not only had lost the elders protection, but was an elf- that could not use Mana! The envy that had accumulated itself over the past years was now finally set free, sparking the almost systematic bullying of Quintus by those who would have been candidates back then if not for him. They obviously were strong, and Quintus could be considered to be the weakest character in the village, so no one dared to interfere. Under these conditions, a vicious cycle of ever escalating actions was formed.

Provoking him to duels in which they would beat him using the skills they had learned to shame him in front of an audience, if he tried to ignore them, they would keep insulting not only him but even.. his mother and his dead father. His father became the greatest weakling for having died in the arena, his mother a “failure of a living being” both for having a weak body and giving birth to him, those were insults he could not ignore.

He came home with bruises, scars, burns.. but those he could ignore. The wounds he was able to inflict before falling unconscious were all the retribution he needed. Even his mother's sad look could not compare to what truly made his hearth ache- looking at the shelf on which only 2 bottles remained. They would last for little more than a month, what should he do after that?

“You know, if you could trust me just one time.. just look at you! Do you think this will get better just because you accept it? I'm pretty sure you don't, and you know exactly just what is going to happen once that last bottle is empty. That is, if you keep following the orders of those quacks! How long are you going to cling to these illusions of pride and honor! You should know best just how people act towards the weak! How much they care about them! Now tell me, why should you trust these people any more than me?”

...

“What.. what is it that I should do?”

“So you finally feel like talking to me? Well first of all, give your mother some meat to eat! Lots of it! Liver is the best way to go in most cases! Obviously, cook it first! Well, that's not actually necessary, but I guess that no one would want to eat raw meat. The effects won't be immediate, but she should notice an effect within a month! There are other methods that would be even more efficient, but I'm sure that you wouldn't believe me and claim I'm just trying to poison your mother again.”

They had explicitly said to avoid meat at all cost but.. did he really have a choice? This was the last sliver of hope he could still cling to. Acquiring the meat was no problem- while he was too weak to hunt in the deeper parts of the forest since he was unable to use skills, hunting the weaker animals was no problem for him.

And truly, only 3 weeks after he had taken action according to Mana's advice, his mother could tell that she, contrarily to what she herself first believed, was starting to feel better! She had had her doubts when her son had brought her meat to eat, but as a mother, how could she mistrust the son she herself had raised?!?

(honestly.. all this drama around an anemic person.. the question is.. were those quacks unaware of what they did, or did these bastards do it intentionally to rake in profit, not caring about the life they were supposed to save?! If I find out it's the later case...)

Elves rarely became sick, if ever, but precisely because of that they did not know much about medicine. Each tribe usually had one family responsible for gathering the knowledge concerning medicine, and because those families only rarely got to sell their products due to low demand while the demand usually was desperate, this to resulted in simply exorbitant prices. And they were the only ones to know about medicine.. if defrauders were to appear in such a system, who would notice it? And even if one noticed it, how was one supposed to prove it?

It did not take long for the news of Elsia's miraculous recovery to spread. She was still weakened from being bedridden for such a long time, but she was able to walk without falling unconscious again.

“Why would this brat disobey our orders! He has been hunting a lot more recently, it's obvious who that meat is for! It couldn't be that he found us out?!?”

“Relax.. I don't understand why he would do it, but there is no way for him to prove that we knew what we were doing. He probably doesn't even understand the reason for his mother's recovery! I bet he just somehow got lucky.”

“Ha! As if we ourselves understand just what is causing this sickness! Since it was the champions wife who had it, we looked trough all of the books, but all we could find was that consuming enough meat would cure it! You're right, he probably just got lucky.”

“Yeah. We'll, it's over now, but let's celebrate! Celebrate those 150 years in which we made the greatest profit of our lives!”

Those listening to this conversation could hear the sounds of laughter, if they had good ears, perhaps hear the sounds of two people eating what might be the most expensive meal to be consumed within this village since hundreds of years, but they were in their houses basement, who would be able to hear them?

(So... it's the later indeed. Eat! This shall be your last supper.)

“You heard the two! Well, whether or not you believe me is up to you.”

Nearby the Caballs house, having reproduced the sounds she had heard by looking at the vibrations of a drink that had been placed on the table for Quintus to listen, Mana was anticipating his reaction. But one thing should be known to fully understand the situation Quintus currently was in- while the strongest were indeed forced to become champions, if they “accidentally” lost their leg, arm, or were otherwise injured in a way they could not recover from while hunting, they would loose this status almost instantly. The sole reason his father had kept fighting despite the risks was because that was the only way for him to afford the medicine. And that medicine...

slowly, a sensation began to creep through Quintus mind and body. He had known sadness, fear, pain, regret.. but this felt different. Vastly different. Burning like pain, but this was not a hot flame. It was cold. Freezing cold.