Chapter - 7

294 AC

Four years had passed since the day I woke up in this world, and I had fallen into a routine. I spent my time either tinkering in my lab or treating patients who came to my house, charging only a silver for my services because I felt a little guilty for using them to enhance my powers and conduct experiments. When I wasn't in my lab, I roamed the forest with Fenrir and Skitter, gathering data on various animals.

I had also learned a lot about my powers since acquiring them. While they were largely similar to Panacea's powers, there were a few key differences.

The first obvious difference was that I could use my powers on myself, a highly beneficial trait. The second big difference that limited my powers greatly was the absence of the "Queen Shaper" shard. On one hand, it probably meant there were no Entities in this world that would destroy the planet after they obtained enough data from me. On the other hand, because I did not have the shard, which was essentially a planet-sized supercomputer, I had to process all the data my power fed me through my very slow human brain.

Even though I had already optimized my nerve conductivity to increase my reaction time and thinking speed, it still wasn't close to shard level processing and I wasn't confident enough in doing more changes to my brain at the moment. This significantly hindered my progress, but I knew it should start growing exponentially once I began working on enhancing my brain.

I was starting to understand why Panacea avoided working on brains. Half the time, it was impossible to correct any mistakes made, and since I had grown to enjoy living here, I no longer saw people as acceptable targets for irreversible experiments. Perhaps I should go north of the wall or to Essos eventually, as cannibals and slavers were very much acceptable targets.

This all meant that if I ever wanted to carry out a full-scale genocide, I would have to stick to boring, existing diseases and improve them instead of creating fun, new ones like a zombie virus. While I could theoretically create a zombie virus, the time and effort required would not be worth it.

The third difference was that I still couldn't shape plants or trees. I could analyze them like anything else, but attempting to make changes left me exhausted. I got the feeling that there was some sort of prerequisite I needed to achieve before having a crack at that particular wall.

The exception to that rule was the Weirwood, that annoying piece of shit was basically a blind spot to my powers. I had thought that if I could scan it then maybe I could figure out how to do actual magic, but that wasn't as easy as I expected.

Whoever dropped me into this world had tried to nerf me, but was very lazy about it. It did annoy me sometimes, but I couldn't really complain much because my powers were still pretty broken for this world. Nevertheless, I utilized my time effectively and made numerous improvements to myself, rendering me nearly indestructible.

I began by strengthening my bones using carbon lattices, giving me added strength to withstand heavy blows. To protect myself from bleeding out in case of physical trauma, I installed micro hearts and shut-off valves around my arteries.

I then fixed a long-standing problem with my eye tissue, ensuring the nerves wouldn't obscure the light-sensitive side of my rods and cones. I increased the redundancy of my anti-cancer genes by adding several more copies of the p53 gene, making it even harder for cancer to survive. Living in a place like Westeros, I adjusted my enzymes and immune system to counteract poison more efficiently.

To reduce aging and improve the effectiveness of my immune system, I also stabilized my thyroid and kept stem cell stockpiles to prevent degradation. I enhanced my immune system's ability to store the DNA record of infections and countermeasures, so my body would never forget a disease it had fought off before. And finally, I doubled my DNA checker and repair system to minimize the chance of full DNA severance due to errors.

In my pursuit of a ranged attack, I made some progress. I acquired an electric eel to research bioelectricity, but my dream of throwing bolts of lightning was short-lived as the sparks always fizzled out a few inches from my fingers.

However, I discovered a much more potent AOE attack, though I hadn't had the chance to test it on people yet. I was still confident it would work fine when I needed it.

Additionally, I had started learning swordsmanship with Jon and Robb under Ser Rodrick, but I quickly became too skilled with my enhanced body. I had to stop training because I didn't want to draw attention to my abilities beyond healing. While I suspected that some people might have already realized my enhanced capabilities, thankfully, no one had approached me about it.

There had also been one more development although it was unrelated to my powers.

"You're telling me you have figured out how to make Myrish Glass!!?" Lord Stark exclaimed in shock.

"Well, I have not seen Myrish glass so I'm not sure if it's that, but it's a type of glass," I replied with a hint of smugness.

It was a humorous episode from my college days that taught me how to make glass. During a phase when my friend and I were trying to outdo each other by creating bongs out of random materials, I ran out of ideas. So, I decided to try making a glass bong myself and did extensive research on how to make and shape glass. Although I wasn't successful in creating a bong, I did learn how to make simple glass.

He stared at me and the sample I had created in disbelief. It wasn't anything impressive, just a badly made asymmetrical vase made of murky glass. He sighed and accepted the ridiculousness of the situation. "What do you want in exchange for the process?"

"I started trying to make it because I wanted some glass vials and plates for my lab, but I don't really have the time or patience to do it myself. So, I figured you could pass it on to someone who can get better at making it. In exchange, all I require is the equipment for my lab and a reasonable favor at a later date," I said with a shrug, not overly concerned about the financial aspect of the deal.

He readily agreed to such a one-sided offer, and I wasn't really in need of money at the moment because my healing was bringing in more money than I needed.

Two years had passed since that incident, and I still had another four years until the plot began. During that time, my healing house had gained immense fame, attracting patients from all over the North and even some from the South, which was surprising given the general negative attitude towards magic outside the North.

Due to the large number of patients I was seeing daily, I had to hire an assistant. I found one in the form of the daughter of an old couple I had healed on the first day of my clinic. Her name was Freya. She visited me some days and helped out around the clinic sometimes.

I agreed to hire her mostly because she was one of the few people in the town who knew how to read and write. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was pretty and had enchanting gray eyes.

Stopping myself from going down that rabbit hole I look at Fenrir at my side and Skitter flying overhead somewhere, over the years I had given them some of my upgrades like the photosynthesis and the bioelectricity and I had given Skitter a camouflage ability with some poisonous pincers too to stick with the assassin theme. Whereas Fenrir was almost as big as a horse and scared the shit out of anybody who was not used to seeing him on a daily basis. He was insanely fast and agile for an animal of his size, but he had also grown lazy. I think it was the photosynthesis upgrade that just makes him lay in sunlight all day, like an overgrown cat.

Fenrir was also the reason why no one caused trouble at my clinic. A Septon from the south had come and was trying to start some shit by screaming to patients waiting outside my clinic that the Seven would strike me down for using my "blasphemous magic" and anyone who sought healing from me would burn in hell for eternity. But Fenrir, who had gotten annoyed by the man as much as everyone else outside, just came out from behind the clinic and stared at the Septon. The Septon froze in shock and fell on his backside, and pissed himself. Fenrir then picked him up by the back of his collar, dragged him through the market, and dropped him outside of town. None had tried to cause any more disturbances after that incident.

As I walked towards the clinic, I couldn't help but chuckle at that funny memory. I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was no line outside the clinic, which was a rare sight but then i remembered what day it was. I had previously informed everyone that I wouldn't treat anyone on every seventh day, unless it was an emergency. I couldn't give up my Sundays even if the concept did not exist in this world because I needed some time to rest.

Upon entering the clinic, I noticed Freya deep in thought, going over the books that I had written for her. The books were meant to help her handle minor cases or at least keep patients stable until I arrived.

The idea of teaching her came to me during the harsh winter, when the Winter Chill, a deadly viral flu, had affected nearly half of the population. The disease was highly contagious and had a devastating impact, killing seventy-five percent of those it infected in just four days.

After carefully analyzing the virus from the first patient who came to me with the illness, I was able to develop a vaccine for it. Although the disease was easy to cure, the sheer number of patients who came to me with the Winter Chill was overwhelming.

To simplify the process, I took a large amount of biomass and produced a large number of tablets containing the vaccine. I instructed Freya to give the tablets to patients who presented symptoms of the Winter Chill.

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Freya often found herself at a loss for words when it came to describing El. He was an odd character, acting more like an eccentric child than a powerful sorcerer. This was not what she had imagined a healer to be like, especially given his youth, which was surprising considering his abilities. Instead of the old and wrinkled stereotype, El was younger than Freya, though not by much. This only added to the sense of oddity that surrounded him.

She still remembered the day she first talked to him. She had just come home from working in the kitchens at the keep, when she saw her parents talking excitedly with some of their neighbors.

"Mother, what happened?" She asked casually, not expecting much.

"Your father almost cut his hand off this morning, so we went to the sorcerer everyone has been talking about to see if he could help," her mother replied in an excited voice, which didn't match what she had just heard.

She was filled with worry. "What happened? Is Pa okay? Why did you go to the sorcerer? You could have come to the keep to see Maester Luwin."

"Yes, yes. He's fine," her mother showed her the hand, which was fully healed and had no scar.

"Wow, that's amazing," she said, still in shock and relief. But then she became worried again. "But how much did it cost you?"

"That's the strange part," her mother replied. "All he asked for was what Maesters typically ask for in exchange for healing normal wounds, and to send anyone else we knew who needed healing his way."

"That doesn't make sense," she said, confused.

"That's what we thought too. But he seemed genuine when he said it was because we were his first patients," her mother explained.

To get to the bottom of things, she decided to visit the healer herself, and had the perfect excuse to do so. She was filled with curiosity, confusion, and a bit of suspicion. She picked up a few loaves of fresh bread from her parents bakery and made her way to the healing house.

She made her way to the healing house, knocked on the door, and entered after hearing a muffled "Come in."

She saw the healer muttering to himself and nervously approached. "Mister Healer, I wanted to ask you something," she said.

He looked at her for a few seconds and responded awkwardly, "Um, yes."

She thought about how to ask her question. "Mister Healer," she began.

"No need to be so formal," he interrupted. "You can just call me El."

"El, my name is Freya. My parents came to you for healing today, and I just wanted to know why you didn't ask them for coin in exchange," she asked, feeling curious and confused.

"Ah, nothing sinister, I assure you. They were my first patients, and they answered some of the questions I had. They also agreed to spread the word about the house of healing," he explained, ending sheepishly and feeling a bit embarrassed.

"I see. Then, you can have this bread as a thank you," Freya said.

"Thank you, it smells delicious," he replied. "Ah bread, if I could have some pasta, life would be bliss," he muttered.

Freya was confused. "What's pasta?" she asked.

He tried to explain, but he started using words she had never heard before.

She looked at him as if he had gone crazy.

He sighed, having given up, and said, "Nevermind. Thanks for the bread."

After that awkward first encounter, Freya visited anytime she could, using the excuse of delivering bread, and helped him around the healing house from time to time.

A few moons later, he surprised her with an offer, "Do you want to work here?"

She was ecstatic and agreed immediately, but nervously added, "I only know the basics of reading and writing."

He smiled reassuringly and said, "It's alright, you can learn on the job." She was filled with joy and gratitude, and eagerly accepted the offer.

As she sat reading one of the healing books El had written, she heard him come in.

"Anything happen while I was away?" he asked.

"Your lab exploded and a deadly plague has been unleashed into the world," she replied with a straight face.

"Nothing seems to be on fire and you look awfully fine for someone infected with a deadly plague," he deadpanned, looking around.

"As if a deadly plague is enough to make me look anything less than perfect!" she haughtily replied.

As they continued looking at each other with the same expression, she couldn't help but break out in laughter first, unable to keep up the joke anymore.

Their inside joke had started when she heard El laughing maniacally from his lab while she was reading. Out of curiosity, she entered the lab and was shocked by the sight of shelves filled with dead animals in glass vials and the occasional smoke rising from some of them. Freya was horrified, but El quickly explained that they were just ongoing experiments and what they were for, calming her down. From then on, she only entered his lab if it was absolutely necessary.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she said after discussing some mundane things. "Lord Stark asked for you to come see him. It sounded important."