Arthur’s Power

The boy was lying in bed, writing something. His cheeks were sunken, his body frail. On the side table within reach, books from a variety of subjects were stacked.

As Arthur and the others entered, the boy set down his pen and looked toward them.

“Father… who are these people…?”

“Ah, Bedi. This gentleman has come to heal you.”

“I see… But I must decline. I’m grateful for the thought, but this orphanage isn’t wealthy. We can’t afford to waste any more money on a treatment that won’t work.”

The boy, called Bedi, bowed his head apologetically. His behavior and the polite tone in his voice hinted at clear intelligence. And as Arthur listened, one question came to mind.

“Hey, Kei. Does healing cost a lot of money?”

“Yes, it does. It’s customary to offer a donation as the price for miracles. But it’s quite expensive, so only wealthy merchants or nobles can usually afford to hire skilled healers. Less expensive ones tend to have limited ability, and while the patient might feel better temporarily, the pain often returns…”

“I see…”

Arthur nodded, remembering his conversation with Marianne, where she told him nobles like Greed charged high fees for healing. It seemed others with healing abilities did the same.

So this was what Morgan meant by “the monopolization of healing magic”…

He thought back to her condescending, “You really don’t know anything,” and felt a stab of irritation.

But now wasn’t the time for that.

“More importantly, why do you think I can’t heal you?”

“Well… my illness isn’t just a sickness. I was attacked by a monster and poisoned… Even when treated, the symptoms always return. So…”

Bedi raised his left arm—or rather, the stump where it had once been. In this world, many types of monsters existed. Arthur quickly understood: the arm had likely been bitten, and to stop the poison from spreading, it had to be amputated. But even then, the toxin had remained in his body, slowly eroding him from within.

Though Arthur was clueless about the world, he had extensive experience in healing. It only took him a glance to grasp the situation.

“One of the previous healers said the poison had spread through his body. Healing it all at once was impossible,”

The priest added, backing up Bedi’s explanation.

“Exactly as I thought. So it’s a recurring illness, huh…? Then it just means the healer lacked skill. Don’t underestimate me. I heal everything. Even if the poison’s rooted deep inside!”

“Ah…”

Arthur might be naïve and a little selfish, but there was one thing he had absolute confidence in: his healing ability. It was the one skill he’d cultivated and taken pride in his whole life.

Having his pride wounded, Arthur moved in without further discussion to place his hand on the boy—but Bedi twisted away, refusing.

“It’s fine. Rather than spend money on a treatment that won’t work, I’d rather see everyone eat something delicious.”

The books on Bedi’s bed spanned many subjects. His notes were neatly organized, filled with tidy handwriting and colorful sticky tabs—evidence of his dedication.

Seeing this, Arthur smirked and decided to provoke him.

“Then what’s all this? Why are you studying? Isn’t it because you believe your body might heal someday?”

“…!”

Arthur had never once been inclined to study, so he didn’t understand how Bedi felt. But even he wasn’t dense enough to see such effort and feel nothing.

“Ah—!”

In that moment of hesitation, Arthur activated his healing magic without permission. A radiant light enveloped Bedi’s body, purging the illness from within.

Yeah… this one’s tough. But it was not his match.

He ramped up the power, confronting the resistant poison. Normally, a condition like this required regular treatments over time. Other healers simply didn’t have enough power to wipe it out in one go. And with the orphanage unable to afford continuous care, the treatments had always been half-hearted.

But there were exceptions. Arthur Pendragon, one of the five most powerful healers in the world, was that exception. The nobles had kept his strength under wraps, hoping to use him without making him aware of it.

“I… I feel lighter…”

“That’s not all. I told you—I heal everything.”

Arthur grinned smugly and nodded toward Bedi’s left arm.

“Huh? My arm…! The one I lost… it’s back! I can move it! I can really move again! Father!”

“Ohh! It’s a miracle! Lord Arthur’s miracle!!”

“This is… Lord Arthur’s power…”

Seeing their joy, Arthur puffed up with pride. When it came to healing, he was second to none. Unless a body part was missing from birth, he could heal just about anything—even old wounds.

“Incredible, Lord Arthur. You said you wouldn’t use your power lightly… but I suppose you can’t ignore those who are suffering.”

“…Ah.”

At Kei’s innocent comment, Arthur went pale. He hadn’t meant to go this far. But he couldn’t help himself—being underestimated infuriated him. And more than that, the idea of such a young child enduring constant pain… He could no longer ignore that, not after knowing what pain felt like himself.

“Hehehe, Lord Arthur, you’re too kind. Don’t worry—if Morgan gets mad, we’ll take the scolding together.”

“Thanks, Kei…”

Grateful for her kind words, Arthur quietly began formulating excuses:
It would’ve hurt his dignity to leave a patient untreated in an orphanage bearing his name… This was her fault for sending him here, Morgan…

Arthur tried to convince himself that nobles cared deeply about their honor—surely that made his actions persuasive.

“Thank you. Even after I said something so rude… you still healed me…”

“Think nothing of it. More importantly, go tell your friends—they’re probably worried about you, right?”

“Yes! I’ll go tell everyone!!”

As the boy dashed off, the priest, eyes brimming with tears, turned to Arthur with heartfelt gratitude.

“Thank you so much! Not only did you visit us, but you even performed a healing… Lord Arthur, you’re just like the Holy King himself!”

“Ha ha ha—I’m not that great. Kei, hand out some of those cookies to the kids while you’re at it.”

“Oh! So that’s why you bought so many cookies! You’re amazing, Lord Arthur. I’m sure everyone will be thrilled!”

Basked in praise from both Bedi and the priest, Arthur was feeling more generous than usual. The Holy King was a legendary historical figure credited with founding the kingdom—an ideal sovereign held up as a model of virtue. For a priest, who served the gods, to make such a comparison was no mere flattery—it was genuine admiration. And being praised like that felt really good.

Arthur watched the boy and the priest leave with beaming faces, then turned to Kei in a sudden panic.

“Ah—save some for us too, okay?”

“Ufufu, of course.”

At his slightly pitiful plea, Kei gave a small, amused laugh. Arthur, flustered, realized his emotions were swelling.

He had treated many people before. He had been thanked before. But seeing Bedi’s smile had genuinely made him happy. For the first time, he felt a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t explain.

“What’s the matter, Lord Arthur?”

Noticing his odd expression, Kei asked with concern.

“Mm… Well, it’s just… seeing that kid smile made me happy. I’ve healed people before, but this is the first time it’s ever felt like this.”

“I see…”

Kei fell briefly into thought, then spoke with a soft, gentle tone.

“Until now, whenever you healed someone, wasn’t it because someone else asked you to?”

“Ah… yeah. It was always nobles asking me to…”

“That’s why. This time, Lord Arthur, you decided to heal that boy of your own will. So when he thanked you, it wasn’t gratitude directed at someone else—it was for you. That’s why it felt different, I think.”

“…So that’s it…”

Just as Kei said. In his previous life, Arthur had always healed people because nobles told him to. He had never once chosen to do it on his own.

“I see… so when you help someone, the one doing the helping feels happy too…”

“Lord Arthur…”

Caught off guard by this revelation, Arthur suddenly found himself enveloped in a soft embrace and a sweet scent. Kei was hugging him.

“Wha—Kei…?”

“That’s right. That’s why people help each other. Let’s keep learning together from here, okay…?”

Kei gently stroked his head as she held him. Arthur didn’t understand why her voice trembled, or why she looked so pained just before hugging him.

But being wrapped in her warmth felt good.

With Bedi healthy again and the cookies being passed around, the children were laughing and cheering. Even Kei helped the priest calm them down.

Kei was amazing…

She was clearly beloved by the children. Some even asked her to feed them cookies, which she gladly did. Arthur, watching his kindhearted personal maid proudly, opened his bag—only to frown when he saw the Good Deed Notebook still wasn’t glowing. Meaning: the problem wasn’t fully resolved yet.

There must be something else.

Then he remembered what one of the boys had said earlier:

“…It’s all pointless if we die anyway. And who’s supposed to teach us? There’s no one here who can even teach us anything.”

He was probably referring to Bedi. And about not having a teacher…

Arthur looked again at the boy’s bed. There were books—so the materials were there.

Feeling uneasy, Arthur turned to the priest and asked,

“Just now, that kid said there’s no one to teach them. Is it because you can’t afford to hire anyone?”

“Ah… you’ve hit a sore spot…”

The priest scratched his cheek. From what Arthur had seen so far, the orphanage wasn’t well-funded. If that was the case, asking Morgan for help might not be a bad idea. This wouldn’t be considered wasteful spending—surely she’d make an exception.

“If it’s about money, I can arrange something—”

“No, that’s not it. It’s not a money issue. The problem is… there’s no one qualified and willing to work here.”

“…Huh?”

The priest’s cryptic response left Arthur completely baffled, as if he’d just been hit with a riddle.