CHAPTER 11 A Strange Request (Part 1)

While wandering aimlessly around the temple courtyard, Khazar overheard patients chatting in small groups.

“Sigh, I hope the young master gets better soon. This is serious.”
“He’s already seven but still in a cradle. He’s not going to get better. The priests are only treating him because they feel they have to. I heard there’s nothing they can really do.”
“Shh. You’ll get in trouble if someone hears you talking like that.”

The old folks fell silent as soon as they noticed Khazar nearby. Other patients were staring at a large baby basket held by the noble lady’s maid.

‘What the hell? They stop the story right there?’

Khazar was getting curious about what was going on with the lord’s family.

“Hey, did you hear what happened yesterday? Some guys lifted the lady’s skirt at the temple!”
“I heard she got furious and demanded they be executed. Their lives are hanging by a thread.”
“Well, you can’t insult someone of her status and expect to live.”
“Still, killing someone for tripping and flipping her skirt sounds harsh.”
“Maybe they saw more than just her legs?”
“What are you talking about, haha.”

Khazar ignored their gossip and headed back inside the temple.

To his surprise, Tirad—who should have been buried in the library—was coming down the stairs. Tirad spotted Khazar too and greeted him as if he had just been on his way to find him.

“What’s up?”
“I got curious about something. I want to check it out.”
“What is it?”
“Follow me.”

Ernolf grabbed Khazar’s sleeve and dragged him out of the temple. In front of it was a small square where a market opened every day.

“Do you know what kind of injuries are the hardest for healers to treat?”

‘Diseases or deformities you’re born with. Or body parts that are too damaged to repair. Healers can’t regrow things from nothing, so that’s why doctors are still needed…’

Khazar answered in his mind. It wasn’t the kind of answer you’d expect from a former mining slave.

Since Khazar didn’t respond, Ernolf went on.

“It’s when the body is damaged beyond repair. Like if someone’s arm is cut off—they can sew it back on if they have the arm, but they can’t make a new one.”
“So what’s your point?”
“The Blue Vine Temple in Tallisa is famous for healing people who lost limbs without leaving disabilities. I want to know their secret.”
“Can’t you just ask the priests?”

Ernolf gave him a look like what kind of dumb question is that?

“Come on, if it’s that amazing, wouldn’t you want to see it for yourself rather than just hear about it?”

Khazar didn’t really get why he had to see it, but Tirad was clearly excited. Traveling together had taught Khazar that once Tirad was fixated on something, no one could stop him.

‘He’s got crazy intuition… Don’t tell me he’s already caught on to what happened here?’

Eleven years later, Khazar would massacre the people of Tallisa and burn down the temple and city. He had a very good reason for it—and it looked like Ernolf might’ve already sensed something.

‘But did he really have to crouch like that?’

Khazar looked over at the corner of the market with a sigh. Ernolf was squatting behind a stack of wooden barrels, eyes peeking out, scanning the crowd. He kept waving Khazar over, looking ridiculous.

“Why are you hiding?”
“We’re investigating a secret. We’ve gotta be sneaky.”
“Did you find anything yet?”

A quiet “yeah” came from behind the barrels. Ernolf waved him over again, so Khazar reluctantly crouched beside him.

“See that porter over there? And the butcher’s arm? At first I didn’t notice, but something seems off.”

Khazar broke into a cold sweat. Ernolf had figured something out before the tragedy even happened.

‘His instincts are terrifying.’

Khazar started to fear that his sharp twin might eventually discover he had come from 50 years in the future.

“That porter’s leg and the butcher’s left arm—they’re too strong. Their movements are unbalanced.”

They watched the butcher chop through a huge slab of meat like it was soft cheese. It looked like something only a powerful aura user could do.

“And that kid over there, playing alone with a glove on his right hand. He’s strange too.”

Ernolf nodded toward the edge of the market.

At that moment, the child crushed his toy with one hand. The wooden figure broke apart—head and arms falling to the ground. Angry, the kid threw it down and stomped on it.

“Ack, he’s doing it again!”

Other children backed away nervously.

A young woman, likely the boy’s mother, rushed over from a nearby shop and grabbed his arm.

“Let go! Let go!”

The boy struggled, yelling. His sleeve lifted slightly, revealing part of his arm. His mother gasped and quickly covered it.

“I told you to play nicely! If you’re going to act like this, you can go home and feed the pigs!”

She scolded him and smacked his head. The boy glared at her bitterly.

“Go home, now!”

Once the mother dragged him away, Ernolf stepped out from behind the barrels and approached the remaining children, who were clearly shaken.

“Hey there.”

As soon as he greeted them, they came back to life.

“Oh! It’s the wild boar guy! You know him, right? He caught a boar the size of a buffalo!”
“Yeah! He lifted that giant thing like it was nothing!”

Thanks to Ernolf showing off the huge boar monster, word had spread around town that the twins were incredibly strong.

“He doesn’t look that tough though. Are you sure?”
“Of course! He’s super strong!”

Ernolf was just about to boast again when Khazar showed up and shoved him out of the way.

“Ack!”

Ernolf hit the ground like a straw doll.

“I’m the one who caught the crazy boar. He’s just the weakling.”

The children’s eyes grew wide as saucers.

“Wow! You two have the exact same face!”
“Totally! You’re like twins!”

Ernolf jumped up and stood proudly.

“Excuse me! Don’t insult me like that by saying I look like Khazar!”
“Shut up.”
“Agh!”

Khazar hip-checked him and sent him rolling. While Ernolf tumbled away, Khazar asked the kids about the boy who had just been dragged off.

“That kid had crazy strength too. What’s his deal?”
“Oh… Gilbard’s not like us.”

“How’s he different?”

The kid hesitated, looking around cautiously before whispering behind his hand.

“He’s a monster.”

That one comment opened the floodgates.

“His arm looks scary.”
“He didn’t used to be like that. Now he tries to bite people.”
“He screams and throws rocks.”
“They say if he bites you, you might die!”
“No, he’s gonna get sent to a farm!”
“What do you mean, a farm?”

Brushing dirt off his clothes, Ernolf asked the last speaker.

The kid lost confidence and mumbled that it was just something he heard grown-ups say.

‘Maybe Gilbard has a scary scar and the other kids are just exaggerating. I can’t jump to conclusions yet.’

Ernolf decided not to assume anything until he had hard evidence.

After parting with the children, Ernolf walked around the lord’s estate, carefully observing the workers and guards.

‘Even in the 18th century, biological implants had serious side effects. But here in the early Middle Ages, they’ve somehow perfected them?’

Ernolf was amazed. It reminded him that even prehistoric magic had once surpassed modern techniques. Judging history by current standards was foolish.

Lost in thought, he eventually returned to the temple. A priest spotted them and ran out to greet them excitedly.