Bridget looked around in the black fog, trying to pinpoint the patient's location.
A man was seen crouching, half-swallowed by a mass of magic,
"Ugh...Ugh...!
The patient was suffering in liquid monster-like magic, unaware of what he was suffering from.
It was a bizarre and horrifying sight.
"Eric, it's me. It's okay."
Millea approached him cautiously. But he didn't even notice her presence and just groaned, clutching his head.
"Save me Please...Ahh... Ugh!"
"Can you fix it?"
Millea looked at me with a desperate face.
I nodded as I looked around at the mass of magic that filled the room.
"I don't have any problem."
A soft light emanated from my body.
'Magic that has gathered into a lump is difficult to purify.'
To get rid of it, it had to be torn away from its source and broken down into small pieces in a good environment over a long period of time.
Like a pebble worn away by the river.
'Let's absorb it and deal with it later.'
Instead of purifying that mass of magic, I chose to condense and absorb it.
Tzuzu.
The magic that was touched by my light receded like an ebb tide and gathered in one place to avoid the light.
The mass of magic covering the patient's body tried to cling to him until the end as if it did not want to let him go, but it retreated, unable to withstand the light.
As I gathered the magic lump into a corner and gradually reduced its volume, it began to shrink endlessly and turned into a pitch-black ball.
It was a ball the size of my head.
From there, black tentacle-like things would emerge whenever there was a gap and try to escape my light.
How to keep that from spreading.
'Absorption.'
I placed the ball made of magic into my shadow.
Surprisingly, the thing that entered the shadow wriggled violently within the shadow's border, but could not get out.
U was adept at handling magic.
I've seen this kind of magic before.
In my past life. I was in the dungeon of a convent.
A place for those who break the rules of the convent.
I was once imprisoned there for some time, filled with screams, gr moans, and a terrible stench.
It was a subhuman life.
They had to eat food mixed with sewage and sleep on it.
Even a brief moment of washing or exposure to the sun was not permitted.
It was miserable and painful.
It was in that terrible place that I learned how to handle magic.
'Nobody ever taught me."
My abilities were always treated as a side hustle.
Those who have never lost sleep or been depressed do not know how painful the pain of magic is.
A polluted mind and a sick heart are invisible to the eye, so people take them for granted.
"Cure mental illness? That's only for the weak and the weak-willed. If you just get your mind right, it's nothing."
People around me reacted in this way to my abilities.
It's a talent that wouldn't be harmful if you had it, but it's not necessary.
So I never got a chance to truly know and develop my abilities.
But in the dungeons of that fearsome convent, I first encountered the true nature of my powers.
It was a hell filled with magic.
I, who was locked up, had a lot of time on my hands.
All the time I was awake, I dealt with and experimented with magic, accumulating insights and know-how.
'He died there because his body was weak.'
So, In my past life, I never used my abilities properly.
'I never thought I would come back to life and be used like this.'
It was quite ironic.
The patient's groans decreased as he was freed from the restraints of the magic.
Millea was the first to notice that he had become quiet.
"Eric is asleep."
She whispered quietly and looked at me in bewilderment.
For her, who was unaware of Magic's presence, it seemed as if Eric had fallen asleep as soon as I made a slight gesture.
"How..."
"I cleared away the bad energy that was coming out of his body."
"Yes."
Eric looked like he was in a deep sleep with a relaxed expression on his face.
Millea looked at her son and sighed in relief.
After returning from the battlefield, Eric was suffering from nightmares every day.
Then, he fell asleep without realizing it, and soon after, he woke up screaming because of a nightmare.
Millea, who had been watching her son with a burning heart, felt relieved when she saw her sleeping son.
The two quietly left Eric's room.
"Will he be miserable again when he wakes up?"
"The bad memories will still bother him, but they won't be as painful as before."
Magi had the property of making humans immerse themselves in bad memories.
The most representative emotion it evoked was guilt.
Guilt breeds depression, and where such feelings gather, magic takes root and grows.
Now that the magic has been sorted out, Eric won't be buried in difficult memories like before.
Memories aren't something that can be shaken off overnight, so they'll slowly bring back magic.
"Is it impossible to get completely better?"
"Time will heal him. Let him get some sun and eat enough. That way he will be able to endure much better. And when the time comes that he can no longer endure alone, be sure to call me again."
The last thing that magic does when it completely swallows up a living thing is to swallow up the survival instinct that all living things naturally possess.
A creature that loses it loses its life and the magic moves to find another host, moving to nearby people and repeating the same thing.
The magic that had gathered into a lump could not be shaken off by one's own strength.
So, before the magic could gather, my power was needed periodically.
"How long will this repeat?"
Millea's expression darkened at the vague answer that time would solve everything.
"I can't always be indebted to Madam."
I told her not to worry too mu much.
"It'll be fine until his memory fades. It may be slow and you may feel anxious because you can't see the future, but he will definitely get better. Don't be impatient."
"Clearly?"
"Yes, definitely. Magi are just persistent, they're not that strong."
Only then did Millea feel relieved.
"Thank you. Mrs. Winston. If there's anything you want, just tell me. I don't know if it'll be worth it, but I'll do whatever I can."
Millea, who had returned to her original dignified appearance, spoke firmly.
"I am a person who must repay the favor I have received. So don't refuse."
I, who knew that Millea would say this, had no intention of declining.
"Please grant me two requests."
Millea's eyebrows flinched as she had expected me, who seemed quiet and uninterested, to decline, saying that even empty words were okay and that she had only done what she had to do.
"Tell me."
"If there is anyone around the Countess who needs my skills, please tell him my story. I will help him."
Millea tilted her head.
"Is that the reward for this?"
"Yes."
I smiled silently.
"What a difficult person to understand."
She thought I was being greedy by asking for two things, but it turned out to be a trivial request.
But it was true that it was refreshing...
Millea worked alongside the King and experienced many things.
Most of them did not miss this opportunity and expressed their desire.
"Please tell His Majesty my story. I hope he will know how much I have contributed."
"If the Countess speaks, won't we be able to get a seat?"
"I heard that His Majesty has obtained considerable spoils from this war. If you could help me receive a portion of it..."
What they demand always boils down to three things: fame, power, and money.
Everyone came to Millea to get the beans that would fall from the King.
Each time, Millea grew tired of their greed and denied her power, emphasizing its limitations.
"No, I am not. I have no power or authority. I am just a maid who serves His Majesty."
She was surprised to hear anyone speak like Bridget.
"Yes. Anything else?"
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