Then, a gaunt middle-aged man sitting in the center said to Raymond.
"Spread your heels."
His tone was high-pressure.
"Are you Earl Garrison, the head of this exam?
Raymond recognized the middle-aged man's identity.
"I see."
Pish-pish.
A candle-like light glowed faintly. The judges laughed even harder at the white light, which looked as if it could be extinguished at any moment.
Count Garrison and the others, the same judges who had laughed at him earlier.
"I'm embarrassed for all of us watching this."
"Isn't that much worse than a Grade F? Isn't that a healing power?"
Count Garrison said in a sharp tone.
"You don't even seem to have the minimum qualifications to take the promotion exam. What do you think you're doing, trying to take the promotion exam with such healing power? Do you think it's funny to heal patients?"
It was a sarcastic remark.
Any other apprentice would have turned white.
But not Raymond, who was manifesting a steadfast core.
"This is what happens. I was expecting it.
An examination interview now.
It was a given that his healing powers would be under attack.
So Raymond had already rehearsed his response to the question.
"The question is, how much more convincing can you make your case?
It was a good thing he had the help of a heart of steel.
Otherwise, my nerves would have gotten the best of me.
"I need to make sure I'm as polished as possible.
With that thought, Raymond took a deep breath.
To be honest, he wasn't much of an orator. No, no orator. How could he be so good at speaking when he was always being stared at?
To put it bluntly, his oratory skills were average.
'That's why I came prepared.
Raymond thought to himself.
Luckily, there was a skill on the market that was perfect for this situation, and he had purchased it.
"I'll answer your questions."
And just like that, he was talking.
A message popped up.
[Skill, 'Speech' is activated!]
[Speech].
Classification: Secondary Skill
Rank: Normal
Skill Level: D
-You will become even better at telling stories.
-Synergizes with Heart of Steel when it comes to helping patients!
Raymond's voice became calm and firm without realizing it.
After a moment of stunned silence from the examiners, Raymond continued.
He spoke with a forcefulness and appeal that surprised even him.
"First, let me answer your question about whether it's ridiculous to heal the dying. It's not ridiculous. How could a healer think such a thing? No healer who has ever stood by a dying patient would even dare to think such a thing."
The room fell silent.
Raymond's voice was deep, and he was genuinely concerned for his patient.
The examiners could no longer mock him with such sincerity.
Count Garrison was momentarily speechless, then spoke up.
"You do realize that ...your healing powers are unqualified, don't you?"
"I am aware."
A pounding.
Raymond's heart leapt.
He couldn't believe he was being so confident and assertive.
"I'm all too aware of my inadequacies, and that's why I've worked so hard. To save the patient. To go above and beyond, many times over."
There was a moment of silence.
Raymond's words overwhelmed him.
Count Garrison's lips curled into a frown.
"I tried to press him in the interview and give him the lowest marks.
Things were taking an unexpected turn.
"It doesn't matter how hard you tried. What matters is whether you can actually save the patient or not."
It was a sobering response, but Raymond took it in stride.
"You're right, sir. I agree with you, Count."
"...!"
"What kind of heart I have, how hard I've worked, and so on, is only a matter for myself. What really matters is the ability to save a patient, and I know that, so I've been studying and trying to figure out how to do it."
The examiners cleared their throats.
"Is that what you mean by the ancient art of medicine?"
"Yes."
Raymond glanced at the examiners.
"As Count Garrison once said, the only thing that matters to a healer is keeping a patient alive, so I've somehow managed to master the art of medicine, thinking that the ability to actually keep a patient alive is more important than the rank of a healer. Do the examiners disagree with me?"
The examiners had no answer to that question.
Raymond wasn't wrong.
Heels are just a means to an end. It's a distortion of the truth to make the grade of a hill more important than the ability to actually treat a patient.
The examiners were silenced, and the mood in the room shifted completely in Raymond's favor.
They would no longer be able to criticize Raymond's healing rating.
Of course, that didn't mean the test was over. The most important step remained.
"You speak well. Yes, the ability to actually heal a patient is more important than a healer's rank. But, Sir Raymond, can you say that you have that ability?"
Raymond stared at the Earl of Garrison in silence.
It was a foolish question.
"I am here to prove it."
"...!"
"Tell me the patient I need to treat."
The Earl of Garrinson's lips twitched at Raymond's brash demeanor.
"Cheeky. We'll see. I wonder if you'll still have that smug look on your face after you've seen your assigned patient.'
"Proceed to the Alpine house on Lexington Street. There is a patient there for you to treat."
"Understood."
Raymond bowed and turned away.
The Earl of Garrison frowned at the sight of Raymond's back.
Raymond's cocky demeanor irritated him.
"Arrogant.
Garrison wanted to instill despair in his smug face.
"I'm curious about your patient's condition, aren't you?"
"What is it?"
Count Garrison spoke in a tone of conversion.
It was as if to say, don't be frightened by what you hear.
"Bedsores."
Bedsores.
The moment the word was uttered, a heavy weight settled over the examination hall.
"Bedsores!
"I can't believe I'm being asked to treat such a difficult condition on a promotion exam.
The examiners swallowed hard.
Not all of the examiners knew the name of the patient Raymond had to treat.
Some of the examiners who still didn't know the name of the condition looked fed up.
"If it's a pressure ulcer, I'm not taking this test, Manaya, I'm failing.
How scary are pressure ulcers?
It's a crushing of the skin, which can be relieved by wearing heels.
But only for a while. It's a never-ending cycle of flesh rotting and receding.
How could a B+ healer fail?
What we don't know is Raymond's reaction. Hearing the dreaded name of pressure sores, he had no reaction.
Rather, he looked puzzled. He looked puzzled.
"... pressure ulcers?"
"Yes, and I must warn you, you are not allowed to change the test patient. If you fail to cure him, you will fail...."
"If I cure it, I pass, right?"
"...?"
Count Garrinson's eyes widened.
Raymond didn't look desperate at all. Rather, he looked mildly pleased?
He even asked, as if to confirm.
"Are you sure you're a pressure ulcer patient?"
"...Yes."
"And if I cure him, I'll definitely pass?"
Count Garrison frowned.
"Yes, if you cure that patient, you pass, but...."
There's no way you can do that! was about to say.
Raymond bowed his head in great pleasure.
"Yes, thank you, I will go treat the patient then!"
"...."
The examiners were dumbfounded as Raymond disappeared in a flash of excitement.
"What was... that?"
They muttered in confusion.
"Does he not realize how difficult ...sores can be?"
"Or what happened to his head in frustration?"
They could only think that.
* * *
Raymond, of course, knew what a bedsore was.
More so than anyone else on this continent of Leipenthaina. Definitely.
"Bedsores, thank God!
Raymond thought about flagging when Earl Garrison heard him.
But Raymond was serious.
"I was worried about what kind of patient I'd be assigned, but with pressure ulcers, I'm not worried.
A pressure ulcer could be treated with the skills of an 'inexperienced resident'!
Even on Earth, pressure ulcers are often handled exclusively by residents.
'But for one reason, helo is not an easy condition to treat, and I've heard that even a B+ ranked senior healer has failed.'
With that thought in mind, I arrived at the patient's location.
"This is it."
I opened the door and entered the room, where a skinny old man was lying on a bed. A pungent odor assaulted my nose.
"It doesn't smell good, I'm sorry."
Fran, the old patient's son, said apologetically.
'They say bedsores stink, and they sure do.'
Raymond thought to himself.
There was a world of difference between knowing and feeling. A sickening feeling washed over him.
But Raymond kept his feelings to himself.
If he showed his dislike, it would hurt.
"It's okay," he said, "it's just that you're in a bad way, and it's obvious that you're in a lot of pain."
The guardian was impressed by Raymond's concern for his patient.
"All the other healers have been busy frowning. You're different.
Then Raymond asked.
"My father has no mobility at all?"
"Yes, he's old and weak, and he's been lying there for a long time."
Raymond nodded.
It was a typical case of a pressure ulcer patient.
"Let's take a look at the wound."
The hired man who had come in with him turned the patient's body around.
The buttocks. A gaping hole in the flesh, in the tailbone area to be exact!
It was a horrible sight.
The exposed flesh was inflamed, filthy, and oozing yellow pus. Here and there, there were spots of rot and blackened flesh.
"Hmph.
Raymond swallowed hard.
It was worse than he thought.
It was hard to look at it in disgust, but he forced himself not to.
'It's a good thing, though. The bone hasn't been exposed yet. It's only a third-grade ... wound, and I can treat it with my skills.
Once the bone is exposed and infected, it becomes very difficult to treat. In some cases, the bone has to be shaved off.
Fortunately, it didn't seem to be that bad.
"If it's this bad, she'll recover quickly with good care.
Just then, Fran, the guardian, asked in a shaky voice.
"Uh, what do you think?"
He sounded very worried after so many healers had failed.
"I can cure it."
"Really?!"
Fran's eyes widened in disbelief.