Chapter — Mad genius
The mountain wind bit deep, slicing through their torn cloaks as the boys staggered toward the Academy gates. The forest trail—once a place of quiet awe—now felt heavier, as if the land itself mourned what had taken place inside that cursed cave.
Every step was a protest.
Asher limped with one arm hanging uselessly at his side, his cracked sword creaking with each motion. Ethan's cloak was torn nearly in half, his entire left side bruised and blood-slick. Nick's face was pale, one eye swollen shut, and both Zephyrfang blades had been sealed away just to keep him from fainting.
None of them spoke.
Their bodies screamed for rest. Every breath was an effort. The only thing keeping them upright was sheer will—and the bitter pride of survival.
As the Academy's massive front gates came into view, Asher exhaled shakily. "Finally," he croaked. "Home sweet... bleeding... home."
Nick groaned. "We better get a damn medal for this."
Ethan chuckled dryly, then winced immediately. "Don't make me laugh... I think something tore inside."
The gate guards rushed forward the moment they saw them.
"Are you three—by the stars—what happened?!"
"Later," Ethan managed. "Mission. Complete."
They were barely across the threshold when a blur of bright orange leapt down the stairs.
"Elina?" Asher blinked.
"ELINA!" Nick gasped.
"Oh no," Ethan mumbled.
"YOU IDIOTS!" Elina's voice cracked through the air, her long braid whipping behind her like a furious banner. "What the hell happened to you?! You look like mashed ogre meat that got kicked down a mountain and barbecued on the way!"
She smacked Asher on the shoulder—his bad one.
"OW!" he yelped. "What was that for?!"
"For not sending a single message! Do you know how hard it was not hearing anything for three days?! I almost reported you as dead!"
"Gee, thanks," Nick muttered.
Kael arrived next, arms crossed, wearing a soot-stained apron and half-burnt gloves.
"You're late," he said flatly.
Ethan looked like he might cry. "Seriously?"
"I was expecting resources. What did you bring me?"
Asher dug into his ring and flicked out a blood-stained goblin horn. "Here. Fresh. Still warm."
Kael caught it, inspected it, sniffed it—and silently pocketed it.
"And a body," Ethan added. "Big one."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Ogre?"
"Goblin Shaman."
Kael froze. "...What?"
"You'll see," Nick muttered.
"Enough chatting!" Elina waved her arms. "You all look half-dead! You're going to the infirmary!"
"Actually..." Ethan groaned. "We're here for the healer. The good one. The crazy one."
Elina blinked. "You want him?"
Kael grunted. "He won't remember you."
"We know," Asher muttered.
And so the madness began.
—
They hobbled down into the lower eastern wing—a part of the Academy more infamous for exploding potions and screaming patients than actual healing. The hallway was lined with containment runes and jars full of blinking eyeballs.
"Asher, you're slowing down," Nick said.
"That's because I'm leaking! I swear my blood's trying to find a safer body to live in!"
They pushed open a heavy oak door.
The room inside was chaos incarnate—scrolls, enchanted herbs, cauldrons, glowing bones—and in the middle, standing barefoot on a pile of paperwork, was a man with shock-white hair, half-moon spectacles, and a mismatched robe that might have been on backwards.
"Oh gods," Ethan whispered. "It's him."
The man turned.
"WELCOME! Oh—new victims! I mean... patients! Yes, yes. Come in! Come in!"
Asher squinted. "...You don't remember us, do you?"
The man paused, squinting behind his thick lenses. "Hmm... have we met? You look like someone who once burned my curtains. Or... was that the snake boy?"
Nick blinked. "Snake boy?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," the man said cheerfully. "Anyway, you're injured! Sit! Collapse! Bleed safely, please!"
Asher stepped forward. "You seriously don't remember us? We brought you an ogre corpse a week ago. You told Ethan he was a 'spiky shadow ghost with a lightning fetish.'"
The man tapped his chin. "Hmm. Sounds like something I'd say. But no. Doesn't ring a bell."
The boys sighed in unison.
"Alright, fine," Asher muttered. "Ethan. Do the honors."
Ethan lifted his hand and summoned the sealed storage. With a flash of light, the Goblin Shaman's corpse slammed onto the healer's table with a wet THUD.
The room went silent.
The healer stared. Then squinted. Then leaned in until his nose was nearly pressed against the cracked skull mask.
"Well, I'll be a mana-sucking leechworm."
He straightened, eyes wide. "Oh! You're the troublemakers! I do remember now! I called you Fire-Head, Wind-Brat, and Sparky!"
"You also stole Asher's gloves," Nick said, hoping to test the healers memories.
"Borrowed," the man corrected—clearly still failing to remember.
"I found them in your soup," Asher said, deadpan.
The man waved him off. "Details! Now—this is a Goblin Shaman, yes? Remarkable! Absolutely invaluable! I shall dissect it immediately! Oh, the organs I will catalog!"
"Can you heal us first?" Ethan said exasperatedly.
"Right! That!" The man spun and began rummaging through drawers, muttering.
"Hmm... Needles? No. Poison? Tempting. Frog paste? Intriguing... Ah! Here it is!"
He turned, holding up a violently glowing red vial.
Nick recoiled. "That looks like lava."
"It is!"
"Nope," Nick said, stepping back.
The healer sighed. "Fine, I'll do it the boring way."
He waved his hand, and a glowing green circle flared beneath them. Vines of magic laced up their bodies, binding wounds in warmth and light. Cuts sealed. Bones cracked and reset. Pain faded.
Asher exhaled deeply. "Oh sweet merciful dragons..."
Ethan blinked. "That actually worked."
"I feel... alive again," Nick muttered.
The healer grinned like a child. "Marvelous! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to dissect your trophy."
The boys backed away quickly.
"Thanks," Ethan said.
"Yeah," Asher added. "And next time—maybe try remembering us before we dump a corpse on your desk."
"No promises!" the healer sang, already pulling out a bone saw.
—
Back in the hall, Kael were waiting.
"Did he actually heal you?" Kael asked, stunned.
"Yeah," Nick said. "After forgetting us, trying to feed us lava, and dancing with a dead goblin."
Kael shook his head. "You're lucky he didn't turn one of you into a potion."
He gave the boys a quick once-over, eyes narrowing at the battered state of their weapons.
Without needing to speak, they all emptied their storage rings. Goblin parts. Bones. Fangs. Even scraps of the ogre they had salvaged. Kael silently collected it all.
He paused. "You brought more than I expected."
Asher watched him pack the materials away. "That ring of yours has to be high-grade."
They exchanged glances—they knew how many goblins they had slain. The fact that Kael stored it all without breaking a sweat was... alarming.
Kael simply nodded. "It is."
He turned to leave, a slight frown on his face. Losing the Shaman's corpse to that lunatic wasn't ideal. But the rest of the materials—and the Shaman's crystal—would be more than enough to work with.
As he disappeared back toward the forge, Asher cracked his neck, flexing his arm. "Good as new."
Ethan was already facing the stairs. "Let's head to the mission hall. We've got questions. And that crystal's not going to study itself."
The eggs—three mysterious, head-sized spheres hidden deep within their rings—remained untouched, unnoticed.
And secret.
Whatever they were, the Shaman had given its life to protect them.
Which meant something wanted them badly.
Nick nodded. "And no answers."
Asher tapped his ring lightly. "Let's fix that."