Crack, crack.

“Grrk!”
“Oh, seriously, why did you come back with your body in shambles again?!”

CRACK!

“Ow—uh, you didn’t put any emotion into that, right?”
“What do you think?”
“Is that really okay for a clergy member?”
“Clergy members are human too.”
“...Fair point. I was wrong.”
“As long as you know.”

Snap!

“!?!?”

This time, it really hurt. They say when the pain is too intense, you can’t even scream. He couldn’t make a sound—it was just pure agony, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Ugh…!”

The pain was so sharp, he thought he could hear his bones breaking and his muscles tearing. And in truth, the pain of bones fracturing and muscles ripping surged through him, making Ihan wish he could just pass out.

The priestess, Sister Jessie, wiped the sweat from her brow, breathing heavily.

“Phew, it’s been a while since I’ve done such intensive healing for days in a row. Usually, even a seasoned knight would pass out after a healing session like this, but Brother Ihan doesn’t even faint. Is it because you’re a knight? Your mental resilience is impressive.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment, after all that pain?”
“Just stating the facts. Lie down for a bit—I’ll bring some herbal tea.”
“You’re terrifying when you’re treating someone… but now, you look the part of a priest again.”
“Didn’t I tell you? Whether we’re clergy or not, we’re still people.”

With a small smile, Sister Jessie left Ihan to rest as she went to prepare the tea.
Ihan lay there, utterly drained of energy.

‘It’s been a while since I felt like this.’

It was only from the pain that he was so exhausted.
Aside from his early years as a test subject, he hadn’t felt this drained from sheer agony in a long time.

‘I thought I’d built up some immunity to pain, but I guess I was wrong.’

He hadn’t expected that he’d be humbled in the process of healing.

The academy’s recovery ward.
This was the most expensive facility within the Royal Academy, staffed by a rare type of healer who could perform “Holy Law-Healing Arts,” something even most nobles couldn’t access.

Normally, Ihan relied solely on his natural healing abilities to recover from injuries, never turning to Holy Law. But the recent battle had been so taxing that he was forced to make use of the recovery ward.

Despite it being his seventh treatment session, his body still hadn’t fully recovered.
That just went to show how worn down he truly was.

‘I really did push myself…’

In hindsight, he realized how recklessly he’d handled his body.

For the entire two weeks of semester evaluations, he had pushed himself to the limit in training, barely allowing himself to rest. And on top of that, he’d fought relentlessly against monsters with only a single day of rest, consuming five potions at once—well beyond the safe dosage.
Even a high-ranking warrior would have died if they treated their body that way.

It was literally only because it was him that he had survived.

However, the toll it had taken was undeniable. He could still picture the horrified look on the priestess’s face when she first assessed his condition.

“You... you managed to hold out in this state? H-How...?”

He had never seen anyone turn pale that quickly.

And then,

“This… is going to hurt. No, it’s going to hurt a lot.”

The priestess had assured him the treatment would be painful, and he hadn’t expected much, but once he actually experienced it...

‘...She wasn’t exaggerating. This isn’t just “very painful”—it feels like my flesh is being peeled off.’

It was no joke—the agony was enough to drive him mad.

He’d always thought Holy Power simply shone brightly and healed the body, but it turned out to be something else entirely.
It felt more like physical therapy or acupuncture.

Only instead of medical devices or needles, the healing priests wrapped their hands in Holy Power and used that to treat people.
And while the initial cool sensation of the Holy Power passing over his body felt pleasant, the itching and burning that followed were almost unbearable.

It was like they were smashing his muscles and bones to pieces like a puzzle, then reassembling them.
Huh? What does that mean?

…I have no idea. Even I don’t fully understand what I’m saying.

There’s simply no other way to describe that level of agony.

“Phew…”
“Oh, you’re already up?”
“I’m starting to feel somewhat alive again.”
“You have excellent recovery abilities. I’d say it’s five, no, maybe seven times faster than the average person. You remind me of the Brothers.”
“Brothers?”
“The ‘Monk Brothers.’ They devote themselves solely to physical training and enhancing their healing abilities. Their recovery rate is on par with trolls. And Brother Ihan, you seem to rival them. …Did you perhaps train with monks as a child?”
“I’ve never met one.”
“...Is that so? You’d be the perfect candidate for them. If you’re ever interested, I can write you a recommendation letter.”
“A… recommendation letter?”

A recommendation letter, out of nowhere?
Ihan blinked, and the priestess gave him a mischievous wink.

“They’d be thrilled to welcome someone like you!”
“Hah, are you suggesting I devote myself to the monastery? Wait, are priests even allowed to scout people?”
“There’s a shortage of talent everywhere, you know. Especially someone who’s saved countless lives—a hero is the most valuable recruit, anywhere.”
“Oh, come on…”

It was a bold suggestion but hard to dislike.
If some pompous noble had suggested something like that, Ihan would’ve thrown a punch by now, but she was the one treating him, and besides…

‘…I’ll let it slide because she’s cute.’

She looked so much like one of his favorite idols from his past life that he decided to let it go this once.

Still, who would’ve thought—

‘I never imagined I’d hear that line here, too.’

Recently, there had been many people trying to recruit him, but to think he’d even receive an offer from the temple…
It seemed that the “Hero” title truly was a powerful form of advertisement.

Even so, there were a few harsh words he couldn’t say to her directly that lingered in his mind.

‘Like hell I’d tithe a tenth of my income to go to the temple.’

He barely held back, swallowing the words he couldn’t say to the person healing him.

 

“Ugh!”

Once outside, Ihan stretched lightly, as if loosening up his body.
The treatment was excruciating, but with each step, he felt strength flowing back into him.
Vitality. It felt like it was filling his entire body.

‘I may not fully trust the temple, but their effectiveness is remarkable.’

The kingdom certainly had its own physicians and healers, so Holy Law healers were a rare and valuable resource, generally reserved as a last resort.
But medicine was still a slow-developing field.

After all, even doctors in the 19th and 20th centuries were known to kill more people than they saved, weren’t they?

Lowering patients’ blood pressure by draining their blood, feeding them mercury instead of medicine, and practicing abysmal hygiene…

The medical level in Pendragon was still terrible, and for now, temple healing remained unchallenged.
And now, having experienced the power of Holy Healing, Ihan was full of admiration.
Injuries that would normally require six months of recovery seemed almost fully healed.

“If I could get three more treatments, it’d be perfect.”

With that, his vitality would be completely restored.
He even hoped that any hidden internal injuries and minor wounds would be fully healed.

‘I already feel light, but if I complete the treatments, I’ll be soaring.’

Thud.

“Oh, right, I have to deal with this.”

Lost in his thoughts, Ihan was brought back to reality by a solid weight in his pocket.

It was a fist-sized stone he casually kept in the pouch at his waist.
It looked unassuming, like a random rock he’d collected, but this was no ordinary stone—it was a treasure of astronomical value.

The Demon King’s Heart.

It was the only remnant of the Demon King, burned down by his aura.

If someone found out he was carrying around such a treasure so carelessly, they’d call him insane, and rightfully so. But Ihan wasn’t the type to get attached to riches.

“Happiness is simple—just do what makes you satisfied without worrying about what others think.”

In his past life, he’d saved up diligently for retirement, only to die before he could even enjoy the wealth he’d accumulated.

Perhaps because of that?

In this life, Ihan was more than willing to spend his wealth on things that genuinely satisfied him.

Since he had no intention of getting married (thanks to his curse), he left only the minimum for living expenses, spending freely otherwise.
After all, what good was saving money if he couldn’t take it with him when he died?

…Of course, his habit of saving money didn’t entirely go away, but in any case, he didn’t put too much value on treasures.

And if someone managed to steal this from him, that would only mean he was lacking in strength.

‘They say that someone unworthy who gains a fateful opportunity will only bring misfortune upon themselves.’

Isn’t that what always happens in martial arts novels?

The one who first discovers a treasure usually ends up killed by a righteous or demonic martial artist, as if by unspoken rule.
So rather than hiding one’s fortune, it’s better to carry it openly and live comfortably, even if it gets taken.

A positive mindset.

It might just be one of the keys to a stress-free, healthy life.

…Although,

‘I want to live positively, not to the point of just letting people take things from me.’

If anyone tried to steal from him, they’d have to prepare to be robbed themselves.
That was one of the life rules Ihan had set for himself.

He wouldn’t let anyone control his life, nor would he simply endure abuse.
If anyone tried to interfere with his rules, he’d never let them off.

Reflecting on his resolute outlook as he held the heart in his hands, Ihan began pondering what to do with it.

‘Should I forge it into equipment, or just eat it?’

Selling it was out of the question.
As he’d decided the day before, he’d use it to further his development.
But finding someone capable of working with such a rare material was almost as difficult as finding a lost lens in a sandpit.

‘The only person in my network who could possibly handle it is my sister…’

She was someone rumored to possess the skills to create mythical medicines, like Ambrosia.
But unfortunately, he couldn’t ask her.

‘I get the feeling she’d swallow it whole.’

If she heard him thinking that, she’d probably fly into a rage, yelling, “Do you think I’m some shameless ruler who covets others’ possessions?!” But unfortunately, Ihan…

‘She’d definitely ask for something in return.’

He didn’t ask her for help precisely because he trusted her principles.

One of her life rules was “equivalent exchange.”
If he made a request, she’d likely demand half of the Demon King’s Heart in return—or worse, she might ask for something even more outrageous.
It was best to shelve the idea of asking her.

‘Then there’s the mage, but… hmm, neither of them are exactly ideal.’

The slave mage was bedridden from the battle, so he was out of the question, and the second chick didn’t seem to have the technical skills for handling something like this.

‘She’s more of an instinctive type, like me, rather than a true scholar.’

With his perceptive eye, Ihan knew that Irene Windler wasn’t a typical mage.
He could already imagine her breaking into a cold sweat if he handed her the heart.

Realizing he didn’t have anyone in his immediate network suited for handling monster materials, he found himself deep in thought when—

Tap.

“…There might be someone who can?”

He paused his fingers, tapping his forehead, as a face came to mind.

The one he’d struggled so hard to transfer here...

“‘Assistant Instructor #2,’ go ahead and list what I need.”

“Could you please call me So-Shim instead?”

For the first time, Tae-Chang—no, Derek—strongly objected.

After all, he insisted, he was not an “assistant instructor.”