Then the soldier who had promised the healing potion finally returned. He carried the potion carefully in his hands, knowing its value and the urgency of its use. Eliss was sitting beside one of the women they had rescued, offering her quiet comfort as she gently stroked the woman's back. The soldier approached Eliss, standing at attention as if waiting for her to finish.
But Eliss, sensing his presence, waved her hand gently without even looking back, signaling him to take care of Amukelo himself. She wasn't about to leave the woman she was comforting—not when the poor girl had finally started to calm down. The soldier nodded in understanding, then made his way over to Amukelo, kneeling by his side. Amukelo lay unconscious, his face pale, his breathing labored. He had lost a lot of blood, and although the healing spell Eliss had cast earlier had kept him alive, his body was still battered.
Carefully, the soldier tipped the potion bottle to Amukelo's lips, letting the liquid trickle into his throat. Some of it spilled, but he made sure enough was swallowed to do its work. As the healing potion took effect, the deep wounds along Amukelo's body began to close slowly. His breathing steadied, and some color returned to his face. The soldier sighed in relief, watching as the magic worked its way through Amukelo's body.
After a moment, the soldier stood, looking down at the unconscious man with a new sense of respect. "Don't go anywhere," he muttered under his breath. "You didn't get the thanks you deserve yet." With that, he called over another soldier, and together they lifted Amukelo, carrying him to a more comfortable place where he could properly rest and recover.
---
Two days later, the sun was setting outside, casting a warm orange glow into the room where Amukelo was lying. He was covered in bandages, his body still weak but showing signs of recovery. Suddenly, his eyes shot open, and he sat up abruptly, yelling, "I will not die until you breathe!" His voice was hoarse and raw, filled with the rage and determination that had driven him in his confrontation with Neclord. But as quickly as the words left his mouth, he paused, his mind clouded with confusion.
Amukelo looked around, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. He wasn't in the battlefield, nor was he in the church or the dungeon. Instead, he was in a small room, modestly furnished, with light curtains billowing gently in the evening breeze. He felt disoriented. Where was he?
Turning his head to the left, Amukelo saw Eliss sitting beside him, her hands glowing with a soft green light that slowly faded. She had just finished casting a healing spell on him, and her face brightened with relief when she saw him awake.
"Oh, you finally woke up?" she said, her voice light and soft with a touch of warmth. "I'm happy that you're okay."
Amukelo, still disoriented, rubbed his forehead with his hand, trying to make sense of the last few moments before he had lost consciousness. "Woke up?" he muttered, looking at her with confusion still clouding his thoughts. "What… what happened? How long have I been sleeping?"
Eliss leaned back slightly, giving him a gentle smile. "You've been out for two days," she replied. "Considering your injuries, it's surprising you woke up this early."
Amukelo frowned, his sense of urgency returning in full force. "Two days?" His voice was filled with frustration and anxiety. "I don't have time for this!" He tried to push himself up, but as he leaned on his left arm, a sharp, searing pain shot through his body, and he instantly lost his balance.
Eliss was quick, catching him just before he tumbled out of bed. She gently eased him back onto the mattress, her hands firm but careful. "Be careful!" she scolded, her voice filled with concern. "You can't rush things in your condition. You're not fully healed yet."
Amukelo clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated by his own limitations. "I don't have time to be lying around like this..." he muttered under his breath.
His eyes darted around the room until they landed on his backpack, which had been placed carefully beside his bed. "Eliss," he said, "can you hand me my backpack?"
Without hesitation, Eliss reached for the pack, bringing it over to him. Amukelo wasted no time. He rummaged through the bag, his movements quick and desperate until his hand found what he was looking for: a small vial of a healing potion. It wasn't as potent as the one the soldier had given him, but it was enough to get him moving.
Amukelo uncorked the potion and downed its contents in one swift motion. The liquid burned as it went down, but he could feel its effects almost immediately. It wouldn't heal his broken bones, but it would numb some of the pain and restore enough strength for him to continue.
Then Amukelo took a deep breath as he got up, his movements slow and deliberate. His balance was still off, but after taking a few unsteady steps, he managed to steady himself. Eliss, watching from the side, stood up, concern evident in her voice as she said, "I really think you should take it easy. Your wounds might heal slower if you keep pushing yourself like this."
Amukelo paused and after a moment he replied with a more serious tone, "I don't have time for that. I have matters to solve. I can't just sit around." His voice was full of urgency as if resting a moment longer would cost him something precious.
Then before Eliss could say anything Amukelo followed up with a question, "Why do you care so much for me? Wouldn't it be easier for you if you just let me do whatever I want?"
For a moment, there was silence between them. Amukelo looked at her with curiosity waiting for her answer. Eliss took a deep breath, her eyes softening as she spoke. "You saved me at that time," she said, her voice quieter, more vulnerable. "Not just me… You saved so many. This is the least I can do for you. To be honest, I've thought about what would have happened to me if you hadn't come when you did, and it terrifies me. Thank you, Amukelo." She gave him a small, respectful bow.
Amukelo's expression softened slightly, though there was a darkness in his eyes as he responded, "You saved me during the fight, Eliss. We're even. You owe me nothing."
There was a brief silence before Amukelo's face darkened further, regret creeping into his tone. "But I wasn't on time for the other girls. I failed them."
Eliss shook her head, stepping closer, her voice firm but gentle as she said, "No… Don't think of it like that. I believe that none of them will look at it that way. They're all grateful to you, just as I am. Not only them—the entire settlement owes you their freedom." She smiled warmly, hoping her words would ease the weight of guilt Amukelo carried.
Before Amukelo could respond, the door creaked open, and one of the soldiers who had been part of the rebellion walked in, his eyes lighting up when he saw Amukelo standing. "Oh! You're awake!" he exclaimed, relief and excitement in his voice. "That's great news! Everyone's been waiting for you to recover." The soldier paused, eyeing Amukelo's condition. "But… are you sure you're okay to be up and walking? You were in pretty bad shape."
Amukelo straightened himself, gritting his teeth slightly against the lingering pain but forcing a confident tone. "I'm fine. I've had worse."
The soldier smiled, clearly relieved but still concerned. "Well, if you're up for it, the whole settlement has prepared a feast in your honor. They can't wait to thank you properly."
Amukelo hesitated for a moment. As much as he wanted to head off and continue his journey, the idea of food—a proper meal—was hard to resist. It had been nearly three days since he'd eaten anything, and after that grueling battle, his body was screaming for sustenance. He gave a small nod. "Alright," he said. "Lead the way."
The soldier's smile widened, and he quickly motioned for Amukelo and Eliss to follow him. His eyes scanned the area, taking in the sight of so many people gathered outside. The settlement was alive with activity—people moving about, talking, and preparing for the feast. The mood was light and celebratory, but Amukelo could still sense a heaviness lingering beneath the surface—a community still grappling with the horrors they had endured.
As Amukelo and Eliss approached the crowd, an older man, dressed in simple but dignified clothing, walked up to them. His face was lined with age, but his eyes held a deep wisdom and gratitude. He extended both hands toward Amukelo, clasping his hands in a double handshake. "Ahh... young warrior," the man said with a warm, welcoming tone. "Nice to finally meet you. I am the chief of this settlement. You are truly a hero. Without you, we would still be suffering under the rule of those monsters. I cannot thank you enough for what you've done."
Amukelo gave a small, respectful nod. He didn't know what to say, as he had no intention of saving anyone when he arrived in this village. The reason he did what he did was because the cult involved him in their affairs.
The chief then places his hand on Amukelo's back, and led him to a slightly elevated area on the center of the main square as he said, "I'm sure everyone wants to thank you."