Worsening Condition

An hour later.

Du Pont groggily opened his eyes and instinctively touched his rumbling stomach.

He had woken from hunger.

As the saying went, teenage boys could eat their fathers out of house and home. At Du Pont's age, he already had quite an appetite, and missing lunch had made his stomach rumble in protest.

But aside from the unbearable hunger, Du Pont also felt that his vision was somewhat dark, with flashes of light occasionally appearing before his eyes.

The darkness made Du Pont panic. Could the divine spell have failed? "Doctor, why can't I see anything?"

"You're awake? Don't worry. Head trauma is no small matter. Rest for a while and you'll be fine."

The doctor's voice sounded beside his ear. Then his head was lifted, his lips were parted, and a warm, sweet, fragrant liquid slid into his mouth. He gulped it down eagerly.

This tasted... like milk. But why did it seem much less flavorful? And there was a faint fragrance to it too.

After resting for a few more minutes, Du Pont's vision gradually returned to normal. What he saw, however, was the female doctor's face right in front of him.

Her loose hair brushed against his cheek, making it itch.

Seeing the light return to Du Pont's eyes, the female doctor helped him sit up. "The priest has already healed your head injury, so there's no need to worry about that anymore. Your bodily functions should have recovered quite a bit as well. The remaining issue is malnutrition. Divine spells can't do much about that. The best way to recover is to eat properly from now on—milk, bread, meat, and vegetables. In a few weeks, you'll recover naturally."

That was naturally good news, but Du Pont felt immense pressure. "So that means I owe the church fifty gold coins now?"

"Fifty gold? One hundred gold is the proper price for that divine spell. If you suffered that kind of injury while traveling, even if you had the money, priests at other temples might not be willing to treat you."

After saying that, the female doctor looked at the big boy on the hospital bed, whose expression was as mournful as if he had lost his wallet. A smile flickered across her lips. "However, after Priest Dorothy learned about your situation, she decided to waive the fee. You only need to volunteer at the church for four hours every Sunday this month when you attend service."

Du Pont finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He had thought he was being forced into an unfair deal, but that young priest actually had some conscience. As expected of a woman with a bosom as vast as rolling waves.

As for volunteering, that probably meant working as an unpaid helper during Sunday services. A total of sixteen hours over a month in exchange for a divine spell worth fifty gold coins—no matter how he looked at it, that was a bargain.

If he had the ability to earn money at that hourly rate, paying off one thousand gold coins would not be much of a problem.

"Then thank you, Doctor. I'll go eat now."

"I saved a patient's meal for you. It's on the table over there, though it may have gotten a little cold. Just make do with it. I'm a bit busy here. Once you're done eating, you can leave on your own."

After Sophie said that, she entered the room next door. With no one watching him, Du Pont relaxed and turned his attention to the delicious food on the table.

There was juicy grilled steak covered in spices; cheese-baked bread, with the middle hollowed out and filled with cheese, ham, eggs, and bread; refreshing fruit salad; and seafood clam soup. It was an exceptionally lavish meal.

Perhaps because it was free, Du Pont found it especially delicious even though it had gone cold. It tasted far better than last night's dinner.

After successfully devouring lunch, Du Pont was so full that he felt drowsy from the carbs. He stretched contentedly. "Thank you, Doctor. I used the Dust Removal Spell to clean this up. Should I take it to the kitchen?"

"I'll have the Skeleton Servant deliver it later. It's only a little past twelve, so go take care of your own business."

"Oh, and remember to eat properly from now on. Come back for another checkup next week if you have time, so I can see how your recovery is going."

After expressing his thanks again, Du Pont left the infirmary feeling utterly refreshed. He wondered whether the upcoming spell class would be easier now.

He glanced at the system and, sure enough, the head injury marker had disappeared, leaving only the malnutrition label.

The divine spells in this world really were miraculous. It truly was a world with real gods.

But just as Du Pont was about to close it, he noticed a changed label.

Constitution 13 (-3)

Physical condition: Malnutrition (Constitution -3)

Huh? Hadn't it been Constitution minus two before? Why had it become minus three now?

Didn't they say the illness had been cured? Why was his body even weaker now?

What had happened during that hour while he was asleep? Could that damn female doctor have performed some evil experiment on his body?

Is there a detailed record concerning me personally?

The information he needed soon appeared before him.

Haluar time, 11:05:54. You were affected by the first-circle divine spell: Charm Person.

11:06:10. You were affected by the second-circle divine spell: Detect Thoughts.

11:07. You were affected by the first-circle spell Sleep. Consciousness interrupted.

11:20. You received the second-circle divine spell: Lesser Restoration. Holy healing power nourished your body. Your head injury recovered, your muscles began to radiate renewed vitality, and your Constitution recovered to 14.

12:01. Your body became weaker (Constitution -3).

12:07:10. You awakened.

Looking at that row of records, Du Pont was first speechless, then furious.

Fuck, I was just a fourteen-year-old kid here to see a doctor! Why had those two used so many random, irrelevant spells on him, then secretly concealed it from him?

His body had clearly been healed, yet it had become weaker again. What exactly had they done to him during those forty minutes after treating him?

Thinking of his handsome face and recalling how the female doctor's attitude had seemed much gentler after he woke up, Du Pont vaguely came to an answer about what had happened to him.

Damn it, had he been taken advantage of for free?

And through such a despicable method too—inviting him to just one meal, secretly drugging him unconscious, then taking advantage of him while he was out.

The more Du Pont thought about it, the angrier he became.

Wasn't this supposed to be just medical treatment?

If you had just said something, I might not even have refused. But knocking me out first and then doing it—wasn't that too shameless?

I didn't even get to enjoy it!

The thought filled Du Pont with grief and indignation, making him even angrier.

Damn it, did Faerûn not even have the most basic human rights? Could people with power just knock him unconscious whenever they wanted? Could they hide the truth after giving him a few minor favors? Why were powerful people always so overbearing? He was only a junior apprentice who wanted to see a doctor, yet he had been kept in the dark and toyed with. When would this oppression of apprentices end? When would men finally rise up—

Wait, the Haluar he lived in was already considered a beacon of civilization on Faerûn. In Thay, another Mage Country to the north, the Red Wizards each had their own twisted requirements for advancement. One faction required people to become liches before they could hold power.

In some smaller places, mages still used the ancient system of privately owning apprentices. News of masters using their disciples as test subjects was not unusual at all, and even if they played them to death, they would not need to compensate their families.

Sigh, this goddamn medieval era really was no fun without status or power.

After throwing a mental tantrum, Du Pont headed to the finance office to submit his leave slip. But as he was leaving, his eyes shifted, and he looked at the impatient middle-aged employee. "Sir, can I collect next week's scrolls now?"