I Was a Loner, but My Class Got Summoned to Another World…

Perfect. Let's see what kind of area healing this Valkyrie-class can really do...

"Alright, I just came mainly to see what the others fought," Logan said, glancing down at the form one last time. "As for the payment… hand it to Hero Ruben. He'll probably make something interesting armor with it."

He offered the receptionist a casual smile and a slight nod of thanks. The woman bowed deeply, both impressed and flustered, before returning to her task.

Logan stepped out of the guild.

The moment he exited, he was greeted by a sizeable crowd—dozens of adventurers and civilians had gathered in the courtyard. Most were quiet, expectant. Some sat on the edges of crates or stone steps, bandaged or bruised. A few were missing limbs—legs, arms, even fingers. Others clutched at slings or splints, clearly in need of proper healing.

At their center stood the knight from earlier.

"We have gathered those that were waiting for the healer to get to them, Your Majesty," he said, stepping forward and bowing. "As for the rest… well, they simply wanted to see what you'd do."

Logan raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised by the turnout. "Guess the rumors about Kryst and the healing sessions reached more ears than I thought."

He stepped to the front of the courtyard, eyes scanning the wounded.

"Well then," he said, his voice carrying just enough volume to be heard, "Let's see if this meets their expectations—"

He smiled faintly.

"—as well as mine."

Lifting his right hand, Logan extended it forward. Threads of light began to form around his fingers, weaving into sigils that glowed gold. The crowd instinctively quieted, sensing the light elemental energy.

Even the knight beside him took an unconscious step forward, eyes shining with hope.

Word had already spread—how the king used the powers of his soul-linked creatures. Everyone here already knew about the healing slime Kryst who they revered as a local deity so many were expectant on what the king would do.

This time though, he would test the limits of Lisa's evolved form—her new sanctified powers.

"Everyone," Logan called out, "try not to move. This will—hopefully—heal you to a perfect state."

With a breath, he cast Sacred Sanctuary.

A radiant cage of light formed instantly, rising from the ground and enclosing the wounded in a dome of translucent gold. Holy runes danced across its surface as warm light flooded the interior. Those inside instinctively gasped as the healing began.

Next, he invoked Celestial Blessing.

A second wave of light rained down upon the sanctuary, further amplifying the healing rate while fortifying the targets' bodies. Their damaged tissues began to pulse with mana, accelerating their regeneration.

Then came the final buff before the healing—Lightborn Authority. A pulse surged from his palm, ready to empower the next skill he would use.

He waited a few seconds before whispered the invocation Healing Light, barely audible, but the effect was immediate. The golden radiance intensified, bathing the entire courtyard in powerful light healing magic.

Logan watched as the changes took hold.

Wounds vanished, scars faded.

A man who had been missing his leg gasped in disbelief as flesh and bone reformed beneath him.

A woman whose arm had ended at the elbow stared in awe as it extended forward again—skin and nerve and nail forming in seconds.

Even the knight beside Logan trembled as the dull ache in his side—an old sword wound—vanished without a trace. His eyes filled with moisture.

Then Logan raised his voice a second time just to heal those that required a second dose.

"Healing Light!"

Calling out the the skill wasn't necessary—but it was for the people. Some had flinched, startled by the blinding magic. His words calmed them, reassured them.

And just like that, a wave of warmth swept through the crowd.

Every last person inside the sanctuary glowed. One by one, they stood there whole again.

No where no longer in pain or had scars. They just stayed there in stunned silence.

Even Wyver, who had remained motionless at the edge, shuddered as the energy washed over him. His broken wing, still half-mended from earlier, recovered to the final bone on the tip of his wing.

Moments later, the frost drake spread his wings wide and released a triumphant roar—ice particles swirling in the air as he flapped skyward in celebration.

The crowd erupted into applause.

Cries of thanks. Shouts of praise. Some dropped to their knees. Others merely watched in reverent silence, unsure how to process what they'd witnessed.

Logan lowered his hand, brow slightly damp with effort but eyes calm.

"Well," he muttered, cracking a half-smile, "I guess that test went pretty well."

"Yes… it did, Your Majesty," the knight said, his voice low with emotion. "I never thought I'd be healed like this. I could have never afforded a grand spell like the one you just used. Thank you."

He dropped to one knee again, not out of formality—but out of true gratitude.

Logan scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. "You don't have to kneel… really."

But the gesture spread.

Dozens followed, one after another—kneeling, bowing, saluting. Some raised their hands to the sky, while others simply stood with tears in their eyes. It was more than thanks—it was reverence.

Logan sighed inwardly, trying to endure the awkwardness of it.

Then the moment broke.

The sound of a crystal gate flaring to life caught his attention.

A group of four stepped out from the labyrinth's teleportation crystal. Familiar faces. Yui, her brother Ren, Darin, and Freya—all covered in dust and monster grime, clearly fresh from a dungeon floor.

Yui's eyes widened the moment she spotted Logan. Her instinctive reaction was to step back slightly, her gaze lowering.

"Oh—we didn't expect to see you here, Logan," she said quickly. "We've been watching Freya, just like you asked."

She gave a respectful bow as she approached. Behind her, Ren surveyed the plaza, brow furrowing at the crowd.

"What… actually happened here?" he asked. "It looks like there's a celebration going on. Did you pull another miracle? Rare loot, maybe?"

"No miracle." Logan gave a casual shrug. "I tested Lisa's new healing magic. It just wore off before you got here."

He glanced at Freya.

The girl stood slightly behind the others, gaze lowered, avoiding direct eye contact.

Ren grunted in understanding. "Alright. I'll go sell our loot. Mind watching Freya for a bit?"

"Sure," Logan nodded.

Ren, Darin, and Yui walked off toward the guild's reception.

That left just the two of them.

Logan looked Freya over—not in judgment, but in quiet assessment.

"So…" he began, his tone even, "how've you been, Freya? I hope you've really changed your ways. I already gave you a little boost in power… and I've learned what happens if you mess up again."

He leaned forward slightly, a faint smirk on his lips.

"The spirits aren't patient. They'll take your Hero status away without warning."

Freya winced—but didn't recoil.

"Ah… yes," she said, her voice soft but more composed than before. "I know. And I'm trying a little harder… thanks to you."

She fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve but didn't look away.

Logan watched her a moment longer. Her emotions were… different. No longer hostile. No longer clouded by resentment.

There was still guilt—but also effort.

There was some changes, even if it was a little less then he had expected.