Chapter 5: Unveiling Power Amidst the Chaos

"In this unfamiliar world, I resolved to join the front lines," I muttered under my breath.

While acknowledging the heightened danger that awaited me, I yearned to witness the adversaries who assailed the village. Would it be a typical bandit attack? As was customary in the realm of isekai, every tale seemed to commence with such encounters. If I were to slay a bandit, would I be branded a murderer in this new world? What a foolish notion! How could I even contemplate ending someone's life? My thoughts wandered aimlessly. How would I even go about slaying a bandit?

Unveiling the direction in which the throng was converging proved to be a trivial task. Eventually, I arrived at a city wall, its modest height scarcely reaching five feet. Though it might deter some wild beasts, it posed little hindrance to large packs of animals or bands of marauders. From this vantage point, I could discern the presence of two factions locked in battle on opposite sides of the wall. To gain a clearer view, I needed to draw nearer. Yet, before I could behold their forms, a pungent stench reached my nostrils.

"Undead!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with astonishment.

So, the village found itself besieged by a horde of undead monsters. Most were zombies, accompanied by a couple of skeletal creatures. Their decaying flesh hung loosely from their bodies, far from resembling humans. How could I elucidate their appearance? They deviated from the stereotypical zombies one might envision—reanimated corpses. Instead, they embodied a fantastical depiction of the undead. Their greenish skin sagged, revealing gnarled claws that inflicted devastating damage with each swipe. I witnessed a man's armor being torn asunder by a single strike.

"Ahhh..." the man bellowed, supported by two others, blood streaming from his injured leg.

They carefully laid him beside a haystack. Blood had never sat well with me, yet I steeled myself and made my way towards the wounded man. Assisting those in need was the purpose that had driven me to the scene. Healing was the sole contribution I could offer, and I was determined to fulfill that duty.

"Kid... flee this place!" the man urged. "The undead shall soon breach the wall."

"Allow me to mend your wounds," I retorted.

"No time!" the man sighed in frustration. "Damn it... I fear I am cursed."

"I shall attempt nonetheless," I insisted, extending a helping hand. "Weak Heal!"

Magic had never been within my grasp before this very moment. Clueless about the intricacies of spellcasting, there was a chance that my attempt would end in utter embarrassment, rendering my supposed powers futile. Part of my motivation to try now lay in the fact that no one was scrutinizing my actions. This injured and cursed man would bear witness to my potential failure, rather than a group of formidable individuals relying on me to heal their wounded comrade.

If it transpired that my solitary skill proved useless, I would swiftly retreat, seeking solace in a nearby barn until the chaos abated. I was no hero; merely an ordinary individual endeavoring to engage in a game. Uncertainty still lingered regarding the authenticity of the individuals I encountered—were they flesh-and-blood beings or elaborate constructs of the game?

As the incantation escaped my lips, an eruption of radiant white light surged forth from my outstretched hand. It enveloped the man's leg, weaving its magic. Within moments, the wounds closed, prompting the man to exhale in disbelief, his gaze fixed upon me.

"It is healed!"

{White Mage has ascended to level 2.}

{You have unlocked the White Mage skill: Remove Curse.}

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