Hospital Visit!
Every time he called upon the heroic realm, it was inevitably that same character who appeared, eager and bounding like a child too restless to sit still. It seemed as though no other Heroic Spirit from the vast Hall of Valor cared to answer his calls, only this playful spirit who seemed more jester than hero.
Whenever he thought of this spirit, a wry thought crossed his mind: "Lance, save me." If Lance dared appear once more during tonight's summoning of Sophia, he vowed to give the mischievous spirit a swift punch as soon as he materialized within the spectral formation.
Beside him, the young dragon Lucia, nestled next to an ominous evil dragon, found the whole scenario rather absurd. It was one thing to summon undead minions from the depths of hell, but conjuring Heroic Spirits was something else entirely , how did he even meet such stringent summoning criteria?
Lucia mused on the fate of the evil dragon. Should it meet its end, would it descend into hell, or would it ascend to the Hall of Valor to become a Heroic Spirit itself? Surely, it wouldn't find a place among the angels in heaven, wouldn't the mere presence of an evil dragon terrify the celestial beings?
She hadn't yet witnessed a Heroic Spirit in person. If the evil dragon managed to summon one tonight, she decided, she'd make it a point to sneak a peek.
Meanwhile, Joanna pondered the abilities of Lance. Could he really summon Heroic Spirits as well? Doubts crept in, could someone who taught Brandon, the butler who had studied at the Royal Capital Butler College, truly be unable to summon spirits or grow extraordinarily long bananas?
Lance's accent, much like Little dragon, bore no resemblance to that of the Royal Capital. He wasn't Brandon's teacher, yet he knew secrets only Brandon could have shared, and even childhood tales exclusive to Joanna. Clearly, Brandon held great trust in Lance.
Lance's skills were unique: he could converse with the deceased, invoke Heroic Spirits, summon beings of power, and even call upon dragon knights. As he approached, Joanna couldn't sense any malice; his demeanor was carefree, inclined towards enjoyment, perhaps indicating a genuinely good nature. After all, he had inherited Brandon's gold only to donate it to the orphanage, surely, a gesture of kindness.
Despite his audacity, Lance appeared well-meaning. "Your Highness Dragon Lucia, would you care to explore the bustling Central Avenue? It's vibrant and teeming with life, well into the night, a true city that never sleeps."
"Okay, okay, Lance, shall we take a stroll?"
"First, to the Lionheart City hospital," Lance proposed with a grin. "I must meet those three foolhardy superhumans who nearly brought down the City Lord's Mansion."
"Ah? Lance, are you actually going to confront them?" Little Dragon asked, a mix of surprise and curiosity in her tone.
"Yes," Lance replied with a steely resolve. "I can't quell the fury in my heart until I've faced them directly. They need to understand the consequences of their actions."
"You intend to confront those three adventurers? Alright then!" Little Dragon exclaimed, her voice ringing with a blend of excitement and apprehension. "Lance, let's go there together then."
They arrived at Lionheart City First Hospital, navigating to the Severe Injury Department on the third floor, Ward 309.
Inside, Louis, Dalton, and Bazel lay recuperating, their gazes occasionally shifting to the vials of liquid medicine lined atop a nearby cabinet. The potions, crafted by Grandpa Lance and promised by Meredith to hasten their recovery, remained untouched. The trio harbored a reluctant fear towards the concoctions, despite their evident need.
"I say, Louis," Dalton began, breaking the silence, "Grandpa Lance's medicine has been here for three days now. Do you reckon the potency might diminish if we keep ignoring it?"
"I wouldn't put it past it," Louis responded, half-joking, "So, Bazel, don't squander Grandpa Lance's effort. Drink up! Who knows, maybe it'll even restore that flowing mane you lost to the sword."
Bazel, once a dashing figure with his long locks, now sported a bare head, a change that had left him morose for days.
Louis, running a hand through his short hair, added, "At least I've never been fond of long hair. Short's practical, quick to wash. And the ladies seem to think it gives me a sunny, rugged look."
"Ha! Are you seriously making me the guinea pig here?" Bazel retorted, only half in jest.
"What's the worry? It's not like it's your first time trying Grandpa Lance's remedies, right?" Dalton chimed in.
"Both of you have tried them too! If we're doing this, let's do it together," Bazel shot back. "Let's settle this with rock-paper-scissors. Loser drinks first. Fair?"
Dalton, still lying back on his bed, pondered aloud. "Drinking Grandpa Lance's medicine could have side effects, but they're a small price for quick healing. I just hope any side effects don't linger too long."
"Alright, let's get to it. Rock-paper-scissors it is."
Just then, a nurse's voice echoed from the hallway. "We've arrived. The three patients you're here to see are in Ward 309."
Hearing this, Louis, Dalton, and Bazel quickly straightened up, smoothing their hospital gowns and setting aside their game of rock-paper-scissors, and the decision about the medicine, for another time.
The door to the ward creaked open, emitting a sound so grating it seemed to resonate through their teeth. The trio, Louis, Bazel, and Dalton, felt their hearts pound in unison as they caught sight of the visitor. It was the young lady from the City Lord's Mansion, a figure who had previously regarded them with unmistakable resentment.
They had half-expected her to offer an apology once their injuries had healed, but instead, here she was again. And this time, she wasn't alone. A small, purple crystal baby dragon, barely reaching up to a person's height, accompanied her. The sight triggered a wave of anxiety among the three. "Could she have hired a dragon knight to exact revenge?" they whispered among themselves, their eyes darting back and forth in nervous speculation.
However, something else caught their attention. The young man who strode in behind her bore an uncanny resemblance to someone they knew well, old man Lance. But this figure was different, dressed in garishly bright attire that screamed of youthful vigor.
"Miss Joanna, please, we can explain—" Louis started, his voice shaky.
"No need to explain, I don't hold a grudge anymore," Joanna interrupted, her voice calm and devoid of the expected anger.
The men exchanged puzzled glances. What had changed her mind so suddenly?
"That young man, you look incredibly like an elder we know. What's your name?" Bazel inquired, trying to place the familiar yet different newcomer.
Ignoring the question, Lance marched straight up to the cabinet beside Louis and Dalton's beds, his eyes fixing on the untouched vials of medicine. "Why haven't you taken the medicine? Are you afraid it's poisoned?" he asked sharply.
"How did you know?" Dalton responded, surprised by the accusation.
Their conversation was abruptly punctuated by three simultaneous cries of shock from the trio as they clutched their heads, staring at the young man who now wielded a hammer with a flair that seemed both reckless and precise.
This flashy newcomer was none other than Lance, albeit younger and more brash. The hammer swung swiftly, striking each of them before they could even flinch.
"Junior, how dare you be disrespectful? We're your elders," Bazel protested, rubbing the new bump on his head as he tried to muster some dignity.
With a thud, another blow from the hammer met Bazel's skull, even as Louis and Dalton scrambled out of bed in a desperate attempt to escape. Their movements halted when Lance threatened, "Dare to run? Do you believe that I will flatten you into paper dolls and plaster you to the wall for a month?"
Frozen in place, the two men exchanged a glance, their earlier bravado evaporating under the threat.
"Grandpa Lance, don't tell us you've actually lived a second life," Dalton said, half in jest and half in awe, as they grappled with the surreal turn of events.