The Healing Brave Man Meets the Demon King

The Healing Hero dreamed.

In his dream, he was thirteen again—meeting his instructor from the Central Theocracy, and the girl who had always been close to him during training.

On a day off, the three of them strolled through the gardens of the Central Academy, admiring the flowers, sitting together around a circular table, chatting with carefree joy.

Then, a shadowy figure cloaked in black erupted from beneath the ground, flipping the stone table between them. In its right hand, it carried Rosetta, the Duke of Lentiya, and the Duchess—held like lifeless dolls. Its blood-red eyes locked onto him.

And in the dream, the Healing Hero—without thinking—slapped the figure across the face.

Morning birds chirped softly as sunlight streamed through the window of the VIP suite on the fourth floor of “The Lion’s Invitation,” illuminating the bed where the red-haired girl still lay asleep.

“Mmm…”

Syldra groaned, slowly opening her eyes.

Last night, overwhelmed by embarrassment, she had fiercely resisted Rosetta’s massage attempt, leading to a prolonged struggle between mistress and maid.

Eventually, Syldra claimed she suddenly craved a midnight snack, persuading Rosetta to pause the session. But after all the commotion, her exhaustion returned full force.

Before Rosetta could return with snacks, Syldra had already collapsed into deep sleep.

Now, upon waking, she saw the other bed neatly made, the room spotless—clearly cleaned by Rosetta.

Just like in memory, Rosetta remained the model servant: reliable, dutiful, unwavering.

—Perfect. While Rosetta was out.

Syldra’s gaze shifted to the neglected potted plant in the corner beneath the dressing table—a wilted, yellowing greenery left unattended for days.

Ever since realizing her body had regressed to adolescence, Syldra had been wondering: how much of her “healing” ability remained? How did it compare to Ludwig’s at this age—after one year of formal training?

She walked over to the plant, its leaves curled and brown at the tips, drooping sadly. Kneeling before it, she extended her right hand, palm facing the most withered tip.

“Let’s try a basic ‘Recovery’ spell first…”

Focusing her mind, Syldra closed her eyes.

“O sacred hand of healing, bestow your grace upon this life…”

An ethereal chant flowed from her lips. A faint, warm white glow emanated from her body.

Then, gentle light began pouring steadily from her palm.

Like a living thing, the warmth drifted toward the枯 plant, seeping into the dry, yellowed parts as if being absorbed.

With eyes shut in concentration, Syldra heard the clear rustle of leaves unfurling, stretching.

It seemed to be working.

She relaxed. Casting low-tier spells posed no difficulty—her body felt warm, energized.

…… Actually, this feels easier than when I practiced under my teacher as a child?

Curious, she opened her eyes—and froze.

“What in the world…?”

—The plant, which had barely reached her knees moments ago, now towered up to the height of the dressing mirror.

Its shadow stretched across her face, swaying gently in the faint breeze.

?

How did this happen?! She had only used the most basic “Recovery” spell—one even non-clerics could learn!

“How did it grow this tall—”

“Miss, you’re awake!”

“Eeep!!”

Still stunned, she was startled by a cheerful voice from behind.

Turning, she saw Rosetta standing by the door, holding a bucket of fresh water, smiling brightly.

“Rosetta…”

“Wow, it’s already grown back!” Rosetta set down the bucket and rushed over upon seeing the towering plant behind Syldra.

“Uh—grown back?” Syldra stood up, feigning ignorance.

“This plant! I noticed it looked sickly this morning, so I thought I’d water it,” Rosetta said. “But it’s already healthy? Did I imagine it before?”

“Rosetta, I told you—you don’t need to handle these things yourself…”

“Miss, as long as I’m traveling with you, your comfort is my duty,” Rosetta insisted firmly. “That includes your room’s environment. I must keep everything perfect.”

“This is the basic responsibility of a Lentiya household servant, Miss. That’s what I’ve been taught since childhood.” Her gaze held no room for argument.

Yes, Syldra knew that well.

Yet as childhood friends, beyond titles and roles, she wished Rosetta wouldn’t always be so rigidly “on duty.”

“Anyway, Miss, what were you doing standing here?” Rosetta suddenly asked.

“Ah, me? I—I—” Syldra glanced around, spotted the hairbrush hanging on the mirror beside the plant, and snatched it up. “I was just brushing my hair.”

“Ohhh!” Rosetta giggled. “Then let me help you brush it!”

Oh no.

Syldra’s hand trembled around the brush.

She regretted speaking instantly—she had no idea how to style hair!

Soon, Rosetta skillfully arranged Syldra’s crimson locks. While Syldra changed clothes, Rosetta brought over a basin of perfectly warm water.

The cold water had been fetched from the supply area in a bucket. Then, using her own talent—“Scorch”—Rosetta heated it by touch. Her ability allowed her to raise the temperature of anything she contacted.

Syldra sometimes envied Rosetta’s gift.

For instance, with such power, would cold weather ever bother her?

During the Heroes’ journey past the Dania Mountains north of the Demon King’s palace, relentless freezing winds had tormented them.

Not a real threat, but certainly uncomfortable.

—Let’s hope I never have to endure that again.

Syldra removed the steaming towel from her face, the warmth blurring her vision slightly.

…… Once both were dressed and ready, they left the room.

She remained puzzled about her spell’s bizarre effect, but had only tested it once. Obsessing now was pointless without more data. Further trials would clarify the cause.

If it was the plant itself, testing elsewhere would reveal that. If random chance, repeated attempts would eliminate it.

For now, Syldra hoped for the best possible explanation—that her “healing” ability had somehow retained the strength of Ludwig, the Healing Hero!

But that would require verification later. Right now, her priority was fulfilling her role: representing Lentiya at the banquet.

Only by doing what “Lentiya” was supposed to do could she eventually save it.

According to her earlier talk with Rosetta, the official banquet was scheduled for October 10th. Yesterday had been October 7th—the day they arrived. Today was October 8th.

The plan: Syldra, as Lentiya’s representative, would visit the Wylding family’s guest chamber to formally greet their envoy, with Rosetta accompanying as a maid.

First, she needed to notify the front desk, then follow staff guidance to the meeting room.

However, something she never expected—

…… Well, perhaps she should have expected it.

As she stepped off the final stair onto the first floor, a figure she had been dreading turned away from the reception desk.

Black short hair. Crimson eyes. Sharp, defined profile. A face far younger than she remembered—but undeniably male.

She froze mid-step, breath caught in her throat.

That man… was Samael!