Uplifting

Pain.

Agonizing, all-consuming pain.

It was the first thing Henry felt as consciousness finally returned to him. Gradually, he reached a point where he could form coherent thoughts once more.

Trying to make sense of his fractured memories, Henry recalled that he had been fighting on the walls. A particularly heavy push from the besiegers nearly forced him and his small band of guardsmen from the parapets, at least until the massive red dragon, that served the Dragonknight Erasmus, raked the enemy with a tightly controlled line of fire.

The effect was horrible, and it didn't take much effort to eliminate the remaining Tenundians, or at least it shouldn't have. That was when he took the hit.

One of his subordinates called a warning, but Henry was slow to react, turning just in time to catch the blade of an enemy axe with his left arm. The force of the blow sent him staggering backwards, reeling to catch his balance.

It wasn't until he was starting to fall that he realized just how close he'd been to the edge. Staring back up at the receding faces of his comrades, he had just enough time to open his mouth and start screaming when he impacted the roof of a stable near the base of the wall, plowing through it with all the force of an armored man in free fall.

That he didn't die instantly was likely due his landing in a large pile of hay. It was hard to be sure on that point, since by then he was fading in and out of consciousness, but he distinctly remembered the scratchy texture and the smell. Everything after that was a blur until he awoke in a very different place.

As a veteran of a few border skirmishes, he recognized the sounds of dying men, the smell of blood and offal, and the crowded, muggy air. He concluded he was in some kind of infirmary.

It took him a few moments to realize there were people around him.

An exhausted looking man in the blood-soaked robes of an Aminatrean priest was standing nearby. Henry thought it was odd that he didn't have the usual solar disc embroidered on the front of his white and gold clothes, but then remembered that neophytes who'd just entered the church didn't receive the symbol until they had passed their trials to become a full priest.

He tried to speak, but found himself unable to talk, or really even move. Even the most minor motion caused waves of pain to shoot through him, nearly forcing him into unconsciousness again. However, the priest's words kept him awake.

He was talking to someone Henry couldn't see, sounding tired and numb with whatever horrors he'd visited prior to this. "I've done all I can, but I don't think he has much of a chance. He ruptured something in the fall and he's bleeding internally..."

[That and I seem to have broken every bone in my body.]

The man trailed off briefly, before continuing with head bowed. "I'm sorry...if there was only a more skilled priest available..."

"No...its alright." A husky female voice answered him, one he thought he recognized. Something about it reminded him of home, but he couldn't place it.

He sensed someone coming around to his side, sitting next to him. There was something wrong with his right eye, so he tried to turn his head to look, only for the resulting pain to drive him back into the darkness once more.

He awoke some time later, feeling a good deal weaker than before. He wasn't sure exactly how long he'd been out, but it seemed like he was alone now.

[Probably left me to die.] He thought with some bitterness.

A series of coughs wracked his damaged body, although he noted that it was no longer painful. That should be concerning, but it was getting hard to care about anything in particular at the moment. It seemed like the room was growing dimmer, little by little, as if the darkness was eating away at the edge of his vision.

[Ah...I guess this is it.] He coughed again, a little more feebly.

[I've had a good run, all things considered. No regrets...] A mental image of his sister's angry face passed through his mind, but he pushed it away. Considering the nature of their last parting, she would probably welcome the knowledge of his death.

Unconsciously, he tried to reach up and wipe the darkness from his eyes, only to realize that his left arm was no longer there, and his right was so heavily bandaged that he couldn't bend it. Again, this felt like something he should have been concerned about, but it was still really hard to care. He was far too tired.

In the distance he saw a pinprick of warm light appear. Slowly, it began to grow larger, dominating his vision and giving him the impression of a long tunnel. He didn't know why, but he felt he had to move forward.

Sensing the coming of the end, Henry found himself wondering about what awaited him on the other side of this passage. The priests said that righteous souls would find themselves in a paradise created by the gods, while the unworthy would be broken down and recycled to form the components of new souls, soon to be born into the world.

While he hoped that it would be the former, he had to admit that the latter didn't sound to bad either. Maybe he could find some solace in-

A sudden, intense wash of energy passed through him, and he found himself coughing in a remarkably pain free manner.

"Right, this one's done. Where's the next?" A man said from a point slightly behind his head.

"I don't believe it..." Another voice whispered.

Henry twisted in the bed, ripping off a bandage that was obscuring his vision in the process. It wasn't until he was sitting up that he realized he'd done it with his left hand.

Gasps filled his surroundings as someone hugged him from the side. Glancing down, he saw his sister, Irene, her face a mess of tears. "I thought...you.." She started, unable to finish. Utterly confused, he looked around until his gaze rested on the figure of his savior.

The Dragonknight Erasmus was standing there, arms folded impatiently as he fixed the young priest from earlier with his masked glare. Evidently it wasn't have much of an effect, since the clergy member was still staring down at Henry with disbelief.

----------------------------------------------------

Mike was about to prod the incompetent young fool into action, when he realized he recognized the man he'd just healed.

He held up a hand in greeting."Oh? Captain Henry, its good to see you."

The watch captain, who was more bandage than man at the moment, returned the greeting with a dazed expression. He evidently hadn't quite recovered from his brief brush with death.

Not wanting to spoil what looked to be a tender moment between him and the charming young woman that was clutching at him, Mike got the priest moving on to the next patient.

[He seemed like a bit of a playboy, but I guess there is at least one woman who genuinely cares for him. How nice.] He thought while healing a middle aged woman who'd been caught by a falling pillar and suffered a serious head wound. Despite the healers' best efforts, she was still fading.

A quick inspection with his magic determined that there was some kind of bleed inside her cranial cavity, and the resulting fluid buildup was causing her condition to deteriorate. Nevertheless, it was a simple fix, and in no time at all he was moving on once more, leaving the woman and her family thanking him profusely.

Ever since he'd reached Tier 4 with his Healing Magic, it had become trivially easy to treat even the most severe injuries. With a little effort he could locate the source of the problem and correct the abnormality in a matter of seconds.

With this increased precision came far greater efficiency. He'd been down in this infirmary for close to an hour, healing continuously, and he'd only burned through a small fraction of his reserves. In fact it had become tedious. So much so, that he found his mind wandering after the first half hour.

[I'll have to thank Selene when I get a chance. Tier 4 skills are pretty ridiculous.]

That said, he'd yet to feel much progress on improving the skill, despite healing a few hundred patients. To some extent, it seemed like this particular activity was insufficiently challenging. If only he could do something to increase the difficulty without risking the people he was working on...

[This would be easier if I could just heal them all at once...]

He idly considered the problem while restoring a young boy's leg. So distracted was he, that he completely missed the reverent, almost worshipful, way the lad's mother thanked him.

The idea of mass healing had merit, but it would be difficult to implement. It would require some kind of delivery mechanism, much like with his Cleansing Mist spell. That would likely accomplish what he was looking for, but it was too inefficient. Besides he'd started to wonder if there might be a better way.

He pondered the conundrum for a few minutes.

A solution came to him while he was in the middle of treating a soldier suffering from several arrow wounds to his chest. He was startled when several other men cheered their comrade's recovery, but focused on the idea.

[While Steam Magic can be used, its wasteful. Every part of the cloud of mist is infused with mana, meaning that much of it won't directly affect the targets, and instead be expended. Rather than simply dispersing the mana over an area in the hopes that enough of it arrives at the right location, wouldn't it be better to control where it goes directly?]

The real question was how. His limited experience with the Mana Transference skill suggested that any attempt to push unaltered mana through the air would be difficult in the extreme.

He frowned while casually re-emboweling a young female soldier who looked like she'd been caught in the business end of a wood chipper.

[Why can I do it with my familiars, but not other people? What constitutes the link? Can I use something else to mimic it?]

This seemed like a promising start, so he began playing with potential elemental combinations and chants. By the time he'd finished restoring the front half of a man's torso, which had been somehow cleaved from him in manner that was reminiscent of an anatomy display, he'd settled on one option.

While he'd considered using a combination of Aerosense and some form of elemental magic in order to simultaneously locate and form a link with injured people in a specified area, it would be very difficult to do all of that at once. Yet, just using Air Magic for its detection purposes seemed insufficient.

He experimented a bit between patients, and after he finished healing a male dog beastman, who had been nearly split in half, Mike had a breakthrough. So pressing was this realization, that he completely ignored the white-eared rabbit beastman who had been sitting nearby, and was now staring after him, mouth hanging slack.

[Air's hold is too tenuous to be used for these purposes, and Water and Earth lack the flexibility I need. Fire is out of the question for obvious reasons. That leaves me with either Light and Dark magic, although the latter is probably too inefficient for what I want it to do.]

After playing around with Light Magic, causing no little consternation to his surroundings, he discovered that he could focus his will along a beam of light and receive a very limited understanding of what it struck.

[Some kind of LADAR-like effect? I'm surprised the System lets me analyze the information this way.]

He'd also discovered that the ray of light could also easily serve as a temporary link. Putting the idea into practice, he fired one at a grey-bearded dwarf that was clinging to life despite having been cut nearly in two at the waist. At any other time, he'd have marveled at the dwarf's incredible resilience, but as it stood, he was just excited that his idea worked.

[That took about 30% more mana than healing normally, even with the addition of Light Magic. I think I'm on to something here.]

Glancing around him, Mike realized that there didn't seem to be any other patients to heal. He rounded on the young priest that was still following him around. "Is there another floor with more wounded?"

The youth look at him with something approaching religious awe, "Benevolent One, you have already healed everyone in the infirmary, and quite a few of those who have flocked here after hearing rumors of your presence. I don't think there is anyone else who requires your mercy."

[...What?]

Trying to maintain his cool Mike pushed on. "You mean to tell me that there is no one else in need of healing in this city?"

"While I cannot speak for the city as a whole, Benevolent One, there are none remaining in the infirmaries we had set up for the battle." The young man answered with a degree of uncertainty in his eyes. Judging from the way he kept trying to lean forward or squat down, it seemed like he was troubled about whether or not he needed to be kneeling while speaking to him.

"I see." Mike replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

[I'm at about half of my reserves. Is that really all it takes to heal an entire army's worth of wounded? I'm not sure how I should feel about this. Although I'm a little disappointed I won't get a chance to practice my new spell idea.]

"Benevolent One," The priest started, before hesitating, once again uncertain, "there is one other place with wounded, but I'm not sure..."

"Take me there." He commanded, noticing a rather large crowd of people gathering around him with awe-stricken and grateful faces. He was starting to have flashbacks to last time this happened, and wanted to get out of here soon.

"Of course." The priest smiled in a knowing way, "please follow me."

[I feel like he just got the wrong idea about something.]