Magic Life in the Empire

Midday in the training hall, the sunlight peeking through the windows illuminated the tired students; now a lot more people were capable of running a few laps without falling afterward.

As is usual by now, it was time for duels between them, and sounds of wooden weapon clashing were heard everywhere.

Cyril was, of course, fighting with Myra currently. After an additional three weeks of hard work, he was stronger than ever, and their duels were becoming more and more intense.

He was striking with immense speed and accuracy; any attack of his would deal serious damage, even if it was a wooden spear, but Myra was still capable of avoiding the most dangerous strikes; their duel resembled a dance in the theater more than anything.

"Stop! Incredible display as always." Their professor, wearing a satisfied smile, called an end to their duel without announcing a winner and moved on to other students.

Cyril considered this fight a loss, but the visible improvements in strength made it less frustrating.

"Good fight, Cyril! You grew stronger so quickly... as expected of you." There was pure admiration on Myra's face as she approached him; over this period of time, they spent a lot of time together during lessons, and her behavior made Cyril sometimes think that she made it all up about the future just in order to befriend him.

"She is acting like a little follower." By this point Cyril was completely used to Rhamn's presence and reacted better to her quips here and there. Sometimes, yeah, maybe she really sees me as a hero?

"Thanks, but I am more impressed by you. How did you even become so strong?" Cyril was considered a genius in martial arts from an early age, and even the newly enrolled prince, Clayton, was not able to defeat him, but Myra was simply on another level.

"Ha ha... I guess I am just that talented." She looked a bit awkward saying that and quickly moved on to another topic.

After their combat training class was over, they went to the canteen to eat with everyone.

The four of them, without counting Rhamn, were sitting together: Cyril and Edmund, who also only had 2 classes today, were sitting on one side, and Myra and Rose were sitting on the other.

Lately Myra tried to integrate this intellectual girl into their group; no one objected to it, and so here she was.

"Spell making is way too annoying! How do you guys do that so easily?! 'Make this circle to cast a fire. Oh, you've made the tiniest of mistakes when drawing the incredibly convoluted pattern. That's too bad; the whole spell is busted!' " Edmund was a lot more studious recently, which surprised Cyril greatly, and often asked for help from his class I friends.

"Just practice more. I am surprised you enrolled here. How did you even pass the test?" Said Rose with an annoyed tone, both of her parents were researchers, and she inherited an inquisitive mind from them. She is also among the first people raising their hand whenever a professor asks a question. It was hard for her to understand Edmund's difficulties.

"Well, I am sorry I am not a genius, guys... Cyril, how could you betray me? I didn't know you were such a prodigy... " With a sigh, he continued eating his meal.

"..." Cyril was a bit ashamed to hear that. Truth be told, he didn't know that either. He enrolled in class I mainly thanks to his impressive ability with a spear, but who knew that not only did he have a talent in spell making, but also a partner in crime with a shockingly good learning ability? As a result, his grades were ahead of everyone else's.

"I am sure you'll get better." He could only offer a weak consolation. "He can only dream of being as good as we are." Rhamn was as arrogant as usual.

"If you really want, we can have a group study session later; maybe that will help." Myra proposed an idea.

"Count me out; I have some plans today." Today was exactly one month later since Cyril saw that healer, and it was time to pay him a visit.

"What is it? Do you need any help?" as expected Myra wanted to tag along with him, but Cyril didn't want anyone to know this yet.

"No need; it's something personal; I'll go alone." Thankfully she didn't insist, as far as Cyril knew; she no longer stalked him like at the beginning. "We'll still have to be careful, just in case she comes back to her old trick." I guess that's true...

...

Passing the already familiar scenery, it didn't take long for Cyril to arrive at the 'Happy Patient' clinic. On the way, he was looking around from time to time but hasn't noticed anyone following him.

When Cyril entered the clinic, he happened to see an elderly woman leaving the place; there was a beaming smile on her face. "Have a good day, Alvin, and thank you again for your kindness; may gods bless you."

 Seeing this reminded Cyril how some days in the past he asked Edmund his doubts about the mage here. The answer he got was surprising. Apparently this middle-aged man here is a talented healer who was even sought after by the Tower, but he denied their offer and settled in here, living in peace and helping the needy.

"Where did he even hear that from? Personally, I haven't seen any of his ability yet." Owing to their previous interaction, Rhamn didn't have a good opinion of the guy.

After the old lady left, Cyril went inside the office and finally saw the healer again.

"Oh, it's you." The mage's reaction was not that promising; he looked reluctant to see him.

"I came here for the scheduled check-up. Previously you mentioned how you would search for some information about my state. Are there any results?" Cyril had hopes that maybe at least a clue would be found, so his voice was as cordial as he could make it.

"Alright, alright, come here; I'll check something," said Alvin with boredom.

Trying to stay optimistic, Cyril approached him and waited until he was done casting all the necessary spells. After the healer was done, there was a weird expression on his face, like looking at a freak.

"You are not ill at all, not a funny joke; go study or something; don't waste my time." He said this with full confidence and turned away from him, paying more attention now to a magazine on the table.

"What? No! I've said before, I am not lying! I've heard you are a good healer; please, I need help!" Cyril raised his voice.

"Look, kid, I can clearly see you are fine; if you want to skip your lessons so much, just go and do it; no need to find an excuse like this. Now leave; I am pretty busy." He was obviously not intent on helping.

"I can't believe this; some healer you are." Feeling upset, Cyril stormed out of the building to the outside, feeling ridiculous.

I even had hope after all this talk about him; what a disappointment! He felt angry; after waiting for a whole month, this was the result.

"This is weird..." There was a pensive look on Rhamn's face. What do you mean?

"There is all this talk everywhere about how he is a good healer and all that, but he didn't even ask you about the potion he prescribed; that attitude was like he was trying to get rid of you." Maybe he is just a sham? He doesn't know anything about medicine and is just trying to trick people. Thinking this, Cyril continued on his way somewhere in the direction of home.

"But he didn't even take any money from you, and Edmund shouldn't be this much of a fool to think so highly of a scammer. Aside from that, did you see that look on his face when he checked your body? Didn't he appear a bit... unnerved?"

Unnerved? Maybe, so you are implying he is hiding something? What do I even do about that? I can't beat the truth out of him. As Cyril was thinking that, he suddenly heard some unfriendly voices ahead.

"Hey, look at that, we have a student here." It was coming from three people in ragged clothing.

Looking around, Cyril realized that he had wandered into an unfamiliar area; it was a narrow street with rundown buildings and trash lying everywhere. Am I in a slum?

"At least say hello to us buddy, hey can you give us a favor and loan us some money, we'll be really grateful" He said it in a mocking tone, more a demand than anything.

"Come on, Flick, the boss said you can't do this anymore. There are all these rumors..." in a hushed voice, one of them tried to intervene.

"Oh, shut up! Not every day we have a visitor like that; the boss will surely understand." He pushed back the other guy and continued looking at Cyril.

"I suggest you don't do anything you'll regret." Cyril tried to solve this peacefully, but his words only caused him to become angry.

"What a tough guy. Are you sure you want to mess with the Red Snakes? We are a pretty famous group around here. We do all kinds of jobs, from finding people to worse. I suggest you quickly give up everything you have if you don't want your head smashed in!" The thug was losing his patience.

So was Cyril "What luck, to encounter such a moron..."

These words completely infuriated the man, and he shot his hand forward in an attempt to grab Cyril by the collar.

In return, Cyril threw out a punch of his own aimed at the drunk's chest.

Even if he started later, he was still able to hit faster; the resulting force knocked the man off his feet, landing him a couple of meters from where he originally stood.

The thug clutched his chest in pain and started gasping for breath; his friends looked on in concern and ran over. They alternated between their fallen and Cyril, debating whether to escape or not.

This was not a result Cyril expected; he didn't think he used that much strength. Not wanting to kill the guy, he ran over, scaring away the others in the process.

Thankfully not that long ago they learned a basic healing spell, used by him, is not sufficient to completely recover a person but enough to stabilize his condition.

After expending a fair bit of his natural mana, Cyril managed to prevent his death for a time and turned to look at the man's trembling companions.

"Take him to the healer and don't do anything stupid in the future." Cyril's voice didn't fluctuate much; it seemed like this wasn't enough to unsettle him.

"Of course, sir! Alvin should fix him up in no time; sorry for the trouble!" Stumbling in his speech, the drunk let slip something of interest.

"Alvin? from the 'Happy Patient' clinic? What can you tell me about him?" Stopping them from moving, he inquired in a stern tone.

"Not much! He has been here only for a, uh... few years, but all the folk here trust him; he even healed many of our friends before." Hearing this, Cyril suddenly had an idea.