Nicky waited on top of the roof of the Velmond residence, keeping an eye out for any guards in the area. But most of the guards that Alistair hired were third-rate bodyguards at best— barely Bronze, who never had to deal with a real threat in their entire lives.

  That was why sneaking in here had been so easy, even though there were plenty of guards patrolling the premises.

  Or rather, it had been relatively easy for Nicky. But Eli had needed her help to sneak in here. Because even though he was the Death God who was capable of slaughtering hundreds of soldiers with the snap of a finger, he still had the body of a child. So he wasn’t quite as light on his feet as the redhead had been.

  Especially considering that his movements were further impeded because of…

  Nicky’s eyes flickered when she heard the clacking sound of footsteps echoing behind her. She glanced back, watching as Eli pulled himself onto the roof and adjusted the mask he was wearing on his face.

  “Man, wearing these is tough,” he sighed as he reached for his legs and removed a pair of shoes. But they weren’t ordinary shoes. “Seriously, what even is the point of wearing them?”

  Nicky rolled her eyes in response as she eyed them. “I can’t believe you asked to borrow my heels for this.”

  That was right. Eli was using a pair of two inch high heels as a part of his disguise. He scoffed as he handed them back to the redhead.

  “Well, I can’t have Alistair guessing who I am based on my height, you know?”

  “What do you mean?” Nicky asked with a frown. “How exactly would he do that?”

  Eli raised his hands up, and she helped him up onto her shoulders as he explained.

  “Let’s just say I’m going to become quite famous here in Velmond over the next few days…”

  “I see.” Nicky stared at him with narrowed eyes for a moment.

  When she first agreed to serve the Death God, she didn’t know what to expect. All she knew was that she was terrified of him. She thought he would be a cruel and unrelenting master. That he would be even worse than her brother had been.

  But now… she was starting to change her mind about him.

  From healing strangers to bringing the Blood Swords back to their benevolent roots, Nicky realized that the Death God was actually not a bad person. That she shouldn’t be so afraid of him.

  Or so she hoped.

  There was still some apprehension lingering in the back of her mind— a creeping fear that this was all a trick. Or at the very least, there would be some sinister twist to these seemingly altruistic actions. But, as of what Nicky knew right now, that wasn’t the case. So she could only be cautiously hopeful that he was a… good person.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Eli pressed her, waiting for her as he held onto her shoulders.

  “Right, right—” Nicky said as she stepped forward and hopped off the rooftop. She made her way out of the Velmond residences, carrying the boy on her back as she finished. “I just highly doubt Alistair pays attention to anything that goes on in his city. So we’ll be fine.”

  ***

  Over the next few days, I found myself to be quite… busy. Not with matters of the Blood Swords or anything of the like. I let Nicky handle pretty much everything on that end for me.

  Instead, I was busy fulfilling my Class as a [Healer].

  As Jay had said, neither Michelle nor the twins were able to keep their mouths shut about me. Especially when rumors began to spread about a young boy who was more capable of curing the sick and healing the wounded than even the local temple’s [Priest].

  Michelle had told her friends about me, and since teenagers loved to gossip, word spread around quickly about me being a [Healer]. When coupled with the rumors that had spread from what I had done at the temple the other day, people from all across Velmond began to seek me out.

  “Please, my daughter broke her arm while climbing a tree. I know this isn’t a lot, but can you heal her?”

  “Are you the boy who can perform miracles? My father has fallen deathly ill, and no one [Herbalist] has been able to find him a cure. Can you please take a look at him—”

  “I have a mild headache that refuses to go away and…”

  Each day, more and more folks flocked to the orphanage. At first, it was only a handful. But then, with each passing day, the number grew. And now, dozens showed up each day, seeking my healing touch.

  Some came to me for mundane problems like a scratch on the leg or a fractured pinky. Others came to me to help them cure their terrible ailments or injuries that had been plaguing them for days. And there were a few who truly suffered from a horrible injury which I could not help with.

  “My leg… Gracious Goddess, I had to amputate it a year ago after a monster attacked my house…” said a middle-aged man in crutches. “Can you please bring it back?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said apologetically to those who came to me with impossible tasks for my level. “Unfortunately, I’m only a Bronze [Healer]. I cannot do more than close open wounds and cure illnesses.”

  I had to turn many away because they are beyond what I was capable of doing— even if I went beyond the limits of my Iron Rank Skills. And they were Iron Rank Skills. Whilst I might have been Bronze now, my Class was still that of an Iron.

  For most people who ranked up from Iron to Bronze without upgrading their Class just yet, their greatest advantage was their increased Attributes, letting them push their Skills beyond what they previously could do. However, since I already had an extremely high [Magic] Attribute carrying over from my past life, I didn’t see much of a change from my rank up.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  So while I could use [Healing Touch] to cure a broken leg faster than a [Healer] of the same Rank as me, I couldn’t somehow magically help a blind man see.

  At the very least, my acts of kindness did two things for me— the first was that it earned me some money. It wasn’t a lot of money. I accepted whatever payment people could afford. They were merely donations at most. A couple of copper, maybe some silver.

  It wasn’t worth a lot to me, especially considering that I had access to the funds of the Blood Sword. So I gave my earnings all to Mary to help support the orphanage, which she was thoroughly grateful for.

  “Are you really sure?” she had asked me. While she was thankful for my action, she also almost seemed to be dubious of my intentions. “But you can buy so much for yourself with this…”

  “I’m sure. I mean, I owe you this much, considering all the trouble I’ve brought your way recently.” I had reassured her.

  Besides, the other important reason I was doing all this healing work was for the levels they’d give me.

  *ding!*

  You have reached Level 2!

  +2 [Vitality]

  +1 Free Point

  *ding!*

  You have reached Level 3!

  +1 [Vitality]

  +1 Free Point

  It wasn’t much, of course. It didn’t compare in any way to the levels I’d gain from killing enemies at a higher Rank than me. But even still, leveling up twice was still quite considerable at Bronze.

  Although, it didn’t matter as much as leveling up twice in Iron or when I was Unranked. After all, each time I ranked up, not only would my levels reset from Level 1, but the amount of levels needed to reach the next Rank would increase by 10. So for Bronze, I only needed to get to Level 30 to be able to rank up to Silver. And for Silver, I needed to be Level 40 to rank up to Gold.

  So with each new Rank I reached, a single level meant less and less. But for now, gaining a few levels was still relatively significant. And the fact that I even leveled up from healing people was quite a feat. But I was not surprised about it either.

  After all, healing spells were extremely draining to one’s mana. Most [Healers] at my Rank would struggle to even heal ten people in a day— depending on the severity of the injuries, of course— let alone in an hour like me.

  But I knew this. And I was hoping that my experience with healing and leveling up would help offer me a more useful Class option. Unfortunately, the only Class that was offered to me was not a [Healer] Class.

  Instead, it was a [Priest]-related Class.

  [Cleric]

  A rare non-combat Class that does not use their magic lightly, choosing to spread the faith of the Goddess of Life above all. A [Cleric] would engage in diplomacy with their enemies, only protecting their allies if the need arises, and they will often spread kindness to those who are in need.

  +14 [Magic]

  +3 [Strength]

  +3 [Vitality]

  Of course, it was a downgrade from being a [Healer]. That was why I rejected it, hoping to get a better Class upgrade as I continued accumulating more feats.

  So that was one thing that had kept me busy for the last week.

  But I was also kept busy because of the twins. Unlike Michelle, the two of them had simply bragged about me to their friends. And while that didn’t mean much, since children their age didn’t have many problems they needed help with, they still wanted to see me. They wanted me to show them my cool ‘powers’— after all, it was rare for a child to have a Rank, let alone a Class.

  Ordinarily, most people became Iron when they turned sixteen years old. And oftentimes, they waited months or even years before they even chose a Class that suited them.

  So it wasn’t even the fact that I was a [Healer] that amazed these children. It was the fact that I had a Class at my age.

  “Show us your Skills!” they chanted as they gathered around me at the front porch of the orphanage. Most of them were around the same age as the twins, although a few of them looked to be closer to Hannah’s age too.

  “I can’t really do anything unless you guys are hurt,” I said, scratching the back of my head. One of the boys ran off to hit himself with a rock, but I stopped him. “And I’m not going to heal you if you injure yourself.

  “Aw…” the boy groaned dejectedly.

  I tapped a finger on my chin, trying to think of a way to appease them. And I had an idea— it doubled as testing a Skill I hadn’t had the chance to test yet either.

  “Well, if you want to see something— what about this?” I said as I brought a hand out. The young children— Alan and Alice included— backed away with round eyes and watched hesitantly as I whispered the name of my last Skill I had yet to use. “[Sacred Flame].”

  And a ball of pale silver fire flickered into existence on the palm of my hand. The children exclaimed in shock at the sight. I held up the silver fire as I kept it small, not wanting to burn any of them.

  However, Alan leaned closer as he gaped at my Skill. “Wait, do you feel that, Alice?”

  His twin sister blinked and poked a finger out towards the silver fire. “I do!”

  “Wait, what are you two doing?” I asked them with a frown.

  And they exchanged a glance, before nodding in agreement. They realized the same thing.

  “It’s not hot at all!” Alice exclaimed.

  “Can we touch it?” Alan reached out slowly for the silver fire.

  The other children gathered around watched with bated breath as they whispered, seemingly agreeing with what the twins were saying. I had a few ideas as to why the flame wasn’t hot for anyone, and I wanted to test them out, so I nodded hesitantly.

  “...sure,” I said as I held the fire out for the twins to touch. “But just be careful.”

  The twins apprehensively held out a finger each, before poking at the silver fire. At first, they barely even touched it. But when both of them evidently felt nothing from the flame, they began to prod at it more, until they were practically waving their hands through my [Sacred Flame].

  And it didn’t burn either of them.

  Interesting, I thought as the children watching broke out into a babble of voices.

  “How is he doing that?” one of the older boys asked in shock.

  A younger boy stared with round eyes. “Is it an illusion?”

  “Wait, is he a [Magician]?!” a girl exclaimed

  The children clamored around me as they all tried to touch the silver flames to confirm if what the twins were saying was true. But before they could completely swarm over me, a voice called out, drawing their attention.

  “Alright, that’s enough!”

  They paused and looked to the side. Hannah was standing just ahead of the front porch, her arms crossed as she glared at the children.

  “Eli has work he needs to do, so stop causing him trouble. Or else…” The young girl’s gaze darkened, and the gathered children gulped. “I’ll be calling Ms Mary.”

  Upon hearing that, the children all squealed and began to scramble off, fleeing the scene— including Alan and Alice. Hannah just stared at the both of them flatly as they left, hopping over the fence surrounding the orphanage.

  “...why are they leaving? They can stay. They live here.”

  “They probably didn’t want to be scolded by Ms Mary for bringing their friends here without her permission,” I said as I walked up to Hannah, letting my [Sacred Flame] dissipate. “Anyway, thanks for saving me there.”

  The young girl beamed back at me as she placed her hands on her hips. “It’s no problem. But actually, I did come here for a reason. Someone is here to see you.”

  “Oh?”

  I raised a brow as Hannah stepped back. And I looked past her. I saw a tall man standing right outside of the fenced gate up ahead. He wore black robes with white-rimmed collars, and he had a pileolus— a round black cap— resting on the top of his head.

  He strode up to me as he removed his cap, smiling gratefully at Hannah as she just nodded back at him with a smile. “Thank you for bringing me here, Ms Hannah.”

  “Who are you?” I asked, eyeing this man curiously.

  And he smiled as he bowed his head at me, placing a hand on his chest..

  “I am Reverend Donovan, the [Priest] in charge of Velmond’s temple. It is a pleasure to meet with you, Mr Eli.”