Two weeks later, Izuru slowly regained consciousness, his senses coming back to him in fragments. The first thing he noticed was the soft, comforting feel of a futon beneath him, a stark contrast to the cold, hard ground he had become accustomed to. The faint aroma of herbs and medicine filled the air, mingling with the scent of fresh linen.
Uhh, my head feels like it's been run over by a train. I guess fighting that dungeon beast took a lot out of me. Where am I?
He tried to open his eyes, but his mind drifted, pulling him into a dark, turbulent dream.
He found himself standing on a desolate battlefield, the ground soaked with blood. The sky above was a swirling mass of storm clouds, lightning flashing ominously. All around him were the bodies of fallen warriors, their lifeless eyes staring accusingly at him. As he took a step forward, the ground beneath him gave way, and he was plunged into a deep, dark pit.
He tried to claw his way out, but the walls of the pit were slick with blood, making it impossible to gain a foothold. The faces of the dead warriors appeared in the walls, their mouths moving silently as if cursing him. He screamed, but no sound came out. The darkness closed in around him, suffocating him, filling his mouth and lungs with the taste of iron.
Suddenly, he saw a familiar face at the edge of the pit—his mother, her eyes cold and unyielding. She reached out a hand to him, but as he grasped it, her skin turned to ash, crumbling away in his grip.
"No!" he cried silently, his heart pounding with desperation.
He jolted awake, gasping for breath, his body drenched in sweat. The sensation of suffocation lingered, his chest heaving as if he had truly been drowning. He ran a trembling hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the unfamiliar room.
Izuru lay back down, the familiar ache in his muscles grounding him in reality. The nightmare's grip on his mind slowly loosened as the gentle light filtered through the small, slightly burnt window. The room was simple but well-kept, with green straw mats all around.
Before he could collect his thoughts, the door slid open, and the sound of plates crashing to the ground echoed through the room.
"Idiot, you just broke your fever. You shouldn't be moving yet," a gentle voice said from across the room.
Izuru turned to see Nagisa with a relieved look on her face. She was wearing a simple kimono adorned with flowers, and her chestnut hair was tied up in a ponytail. The sight of her brought a wave of calm over him, though he could see the worry lines etched on her face.
You've been out for quite some time. You need to rest, she said, rushing towards him to ensure he stayed put.
How long have I been out? Izuru asked groggily with a worried look on his face.
Thirteen days.
Thirteen days?
This isn't good. If I stay any longer, I'm going to miss the exam.
Izuru slowly tried to make his way to his feet.
Stop, you can't do that. Nagisa spoke adamantly. Your body isn't healed yet. You may not have many physical wounds, but your mental ones are still fresh. You almost completely tapped out of arcane energy. If you continue you will--
Izuru stood half way to his feet.
I'm sorry, thank you for all your help, but I've got to go. I've spent too much time here…
Suddenly, a large bang resounded in the room.
Before Izuru could fully get up, a large pan hit him across the back of his head, putting him back down.
Standing over him was an old woman with a scowl on her face, dressed in a white kimono with her sleeves rolled up.
Granny, did you have to hit him so hard? What if he doesn't wake up? Nagisa protested, though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes.
And let one of my patients leave before they're healed?
the old woman said with an aggressive tone.
I'd rather roll in hell.
Besides, he's a tough one. That shouldn't be enough to knock him fully unconscious. Now, if I put my back into it, he might not wake up for another month. Kakaka.
Izuru groaned, struggling to stay conscious under the old woman's laughter. What... What just happened?
You were about to do something stupid, Nagisa said, gently but firmly pushing him back down.
This is Granny Kiyoko. She's the healer who's been taking care of you.
Granny Kiyoko crossed her arms, still glaring, and took an old pipe out of her kimono. You youngsters never know when to quit.
You need to rest and fully recover, or you'll do more harm than good.
I'm sorry, but I can't, Izuru interjected.
I've got to go now or I'll miss the Walpurgis exams.
Granny Kiyoko's eyes widened in shock, and Nagisa's narrowed in confusion.
Give up, kid.
You'll die if you go now. You're not ready, she said, puffing out a calm breath of smoke into the air.
How do you know that? I was strong enough to save this town, wasn't I? Izuru said in disbelief in a dead panned tone.
Because I know…the true horrors of that place, she said, her eyes reflecting deep sadness.
Umm, excuse me, can someone tell me what the Walpurgis exams are and why they're so dangerous? Nagisa asked, breaking the tension.
Granny Kiyoko took another breath of smoke. The common populace believes being a Walpurgis is all sunshine and rainbows, but it's a dangerous profession, where many young souls risk their lives, often dying before they reach their twenties. To help mitigate this, 30 years ago, the Walpurgis exams were created to only allow those who are truly qualified to continue the road of becoming a Walpurgis. But, do you know the percentage of people who survive this brutal exam? Five percent. And of those that do, many sustain debilitating injuries, ending their lives before they truly begin.
Why don't more people talk about it? Nagisa interrupted, confused.
That's because….
As Granny Kiyoko was going to respond, Izuru interjected.
Because the benefits outweigh the losses. The sheer income Walpurgis make is enough to set someone up for life, and with it comes fame and status that most could never dream of.
Granny Kiyoko nodded her head. Human greed swallows the hearts of men and women, often taking what's most valuable to them. I've seen many go down this road for one reason or another, but very rarely does it take them to where they want. Young man, why do you want to take up this path? Is it your ambition, pride, or greed?
I want revenge….
Just like I thought—he's like the rest, Granny Kiyoko thought, shaking her head.
And I want to keep a promise.
Granny Kiyoko's eyes lit up, and more laughter was caught in her smoky breath. Hahaha. I'm sorry, that's funny. Brat, you'd risk your life for a promise?
Yes, Izuru said, determined.
Granny Kiyoko's expression shifted, a mix of amusement and respect. He's different from the rest.
Nagisa was right, you're an entertaining one for sure, she said with a faint smile.
Does that mean you'll let me go? Izuru asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Huh? Who said that? I already told you the only way you're walking out of here to that exam is through my cold dead body, she said, her scowl returning.
Why not?
Because you're my patient, and while under my care you'll do what I say or I'll make you do it under anesthesia.
Izuru, frustrated, tried to get up, but with a swing of her metal pipe, Granny Kiyoko put him out to sleep.
I told you I could knock you out if I put my back into it, she said with a grumpy smile.
As Izuru's world faded to black, the last thing he heard was Granny Kiyoko's chuckle, mingling with Nagisa's sigh.