Chapter 17

Lucas watched with a serious expression as Elma solemnly proceeded with her “sterilization” before his eyes.

The other members of the order, who hadn’t quite grasped the situation, cast questioning glances their way, but Lucas silenced them with a single look.

The scene was filled with an extraordinary sense of tension.

Actually, if one were to speak of the extraordinary, the first thing to mention would be Elma’s attire.

When she had dashed out of the cathedral with Lucas, he assumed she was headed straight for the gazebo, but she had detoured to the maids’ dormitory. When she finally caught up, she looked like this.

Namely, a long-sleeved apron that covered her entire body, a cloth head-covering instead of a brim, and a face mask.

Aside from her forearms where the sleeves were rolled up, the only part of her face visible was her glasses.

In other words, not a shred of her actual face could be seen.

Though she was covered in plain white cloth, for some reason, it looked like a suit of sturdy armor.

She lined up a row of unfamiliar-looking instruments on a copper tray, then placed it on a clean cloth spread out on the floor.

Then, staring directly at the man in charge—Lucas—she declared:

“I will now begin surgery for Mr. Theo Forster’s tibial shaft fracture. As you can see, it is an open fracture; therefore, I will perform open reduction to restore alignment, as well as an intramuscular foreign body removal and ligament rupture suturing. Immediately following the procedure, antibiotics will be administered to prevent infection.”

“…Huh?”

“As I said, Mr. Theo Forster’s tibial shaft fracture…”

She started to repeat herself, but paused for a moment of thought.

“In short, I’m going to disinfect and open the wound, remove the fragments of the cursed tool, sew everything back together, and prescribe medicine.”

She revised her explanation.

It was a remarkably blunt bit of informed consent.

However, her calm and absolute confidence left everyone speechless, and they naturally began to make way for her beside the patient.

Even the Vice-Company Commander, who had his hand on his sword, watched Elma’s movements with a bewildered look.

Taking advantage of the opening, she knelt beside Theo with fluid movements and spoke softly to the groaning man.

“Mr. Forster. I am now going to apply anesthesia to your entire right leg. I will count to ten; please tell me if you feel any nausea.”

“Uugh… ah… Ma-Magic Water…?”

Theo murmured in confusion at the unfamiliar word.

Elma took it as consent for the time being and quickly injected the anesthetic into his right leg.

The change was dramatic.

“The… the pain is gone…!”

“Please do not move. A gruesome sight will follow for some time, so I will blindfold you. Vice-Commander, I apologize, but could you assist with this?”

“O-Oh, right…”

Elma apparently wanted to maintain the sterile state of her hands as much as possible.

She had the Vice-Commander blindfold Theo and secure his body; she then had the remaining knights disinfect their hands with distilled spirits and made each of them hold a medical tool.

“Now, when I say ‘scalpel,’ you give me the scalpel.”

“O-Oh!”

The members of the order, completely swept up in the atmosphere, obeyed submissively.

It was then that the dazed Dennis finally snapped back to his senses.

“Y-You…! What have you been doing this whole time!”

“An ‘ope,’ is there a problem?”

“Is there a problem?! Medical acts are the domain of doctors and Holy Medical Mentors. I don’t know what a mere maid thinks she’s doing, but—”

He might have been useless, but that wasn’t a reason to allow a maid to overstep her authority.

Dennis inhaled sharply to launch into a fierce condemnation, but—

“You stink!”

He was struck down by words with more attack power than a fist.

“…!?”

It wasn’t a physical attack, yet it felt like a blow that gouged out his heart and mind.

While Dennis stood there speechless, Elma—still kneeling—glared up at him. Or rather, it was her glasses that were glaring.

“Begging your pardon, but that perfume is intensely foul. It is at a level that interferes with hygiene. And do you have a habit of biting your thumbs? Your nails appear to be jagged in places. To attempt to touch a patient and their wound in such a state is preposterous. Go wash your face—literally—and while you’re at it, cut your nails and clean your hands and fingers before returning.”

“H-How… h-h-h… how insolent…”

He turned pale at the sheer verbal abuse.

But as Dennis stood there with his mouth hanging open, Elma—who had apparently lost her patience—finally barked.

“If you’re going to touch a human body, don’t douse yourself in perfume and suck on your fingers! It’s common sense! If you consider yourself a Medical Mentor, go back and start over! If not, get out of the way!”

“Hiek!”

He let out a pathetic shriek at the intimidation, which was even more terrifying than that of the knights.

Actually, the voices of several knights might have overlapped with hers.

A silence fell over the area, so heavy you could have heard a pin drop.

In the stillness, Dennis looked back and forth between Theo and Elma for a while, but eventually he clenched his fists and ran off at full speed—toward the water-well area.

“Excuse me. I lost my composure. Glasses.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am!”

As if her previous roar had been a lie, Elma spoke quietly.

The knight in charge of the glasses gave a “good boy” response and reached out from the side to gently push up the bridge of her glasses, which had slipped slightly.

By the time Dennis had washed off his perfume, cleaned his hands, and rushed back, the surgery was nearing its climax.

“Scalpel.”

“Yes!”

“Sweat.”

“Yes!”

“Glasses.”

“YES!!”

Each time Elma gave a short command, the knight in charge of that task answered from his gut and obediently fulfilled the request.

The sight of these burly men following the orders of a small maid was the definition of bizarre, but as for Elma herself, she remained with her back to them, silently hunched over Theo.

I am a Holy Medical Mentor too.

I need to properly understand the state of the treatment.

Dennis steeled himself, clenched his fists, and timidly approached the scene of the “ope.”

‘Wh… What is this…!’

He gasped.

Before his eyes, the maid was connecting the bone fragments with terrifying speed.

The bone that should have been miserably shattered—though cracks still remained—was lined up straight in its original form. The flesh that should have been horribly torn had regained its shape along the fibers, and was now just waiting to be sewn back together.

No, more extraordinary than that was the movement of the maid’s arms.

‘Wh…! She’s so fast I can only see afterimages…!?’

The way she skillfully manipulated the tweezers, scalpel, and forceps was so rapid it almost looked as if she had four or five hands.

Dazed, Dennis rubbed his eyes repeatedly.

This wasn’t “a woman’s first aid” with a few extra steps.

This transcended the realm of mere treatment.

This was—art.

Dennis was lost for words.

He had thought that manual techniques without Holy Power were nothing more than an extension of a child’s bandage-work.

But now, before the miraculous surgical arts flowing from her hands, he found himself overwhelmed and filled with admiration.

In fact, he noticed that the complexions of those watching the procedure had improved significantly; some even had eyes moist with excitement.

“Cursed tool extracted. Holy Water.”

“Yes! I’m dousing it in Holy Water!”

As Elma held the fragments of the cursed tool aloft with her tweezers, the knight in charge placed them onto a cloth, and another immediately splashed them with Holy Water.

A small hiss echoed, and it was clear the fragments had lost their malevolent power.

“Cross-check the fragments with the horseshoe and ensure they match perfectly.”

“They’re a perfect match. It looks like this is all of them.”

“Good.”

While resetting the bone and flesh, she had successfully extracted the curse. Upon hearing Prince Lucas—who had been inspecting the shoe—confirm the match, the maid nodded silently.

“Now, I will proceed with the suturing.”

“Suturing? You’re going to sew him up with thread? But I don’t see a needle.”

“Ah. I was afraid the wind might blow them away, so I kept them tucked inside the temple of my glasses. Could you take them out for me? Please disinfect them with the spirits.”

When the puzzled Lucas questioned her, Elma answered without pausing her hands.

“…Why on earth are you carrying medical needles hidden in the frame of your glasses?”

“Eh? Doesn’t everyone carry things like anesthesia and needles as a matter of basic etiquette?”

No one carries that!

Dennis wanted to scream as Elma asked her question with genuine bewilderment. He wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her. He wanted to beg her not to give off that aura of “Wait, you guys don’t carry these?”

It wasn’t exactly the same as carrying a handkerchief to the restroom.

And that sentiment was clearly shared by every knight present. From Lucas down to the recruits, everyone’s faces twitched with a complicated mix of expressions.

“…I’ve been meaning to ask, where exactly were you hiding that massive amount of medical equipment?”

“In my bag, of course.”

Following her gaze, they indeed saw a small cloth pouch sitting by her side. It was apparently what she had brought from the maids’ dormitory. However, its size clearly defied the laws of conservation of mass, causing Lucas to knit his brows.

“…How does that much equipment fit into such a tiny bag?”

“I was raised with the teaching that a woman should be a master of storage. Is that not… normal?”

As an aside, within the walls of Waltzer Prison, there was a common saying: “Is it Mary’s cleavage or Elma’s bag?” Both were said to be connected to a fourth dimension, capable of producing the most outrageous items, serving as a warning to watch out whenever they reached into either.

But Lucas, having no way of knowing this, simply nodded vaguely at the non-answer and gave up his pursuit. It wasn’t worth interrupting the “ope” that was progressing so smoothly.

“Fine. I’m taking the needle. Which side of the frame?”

“The right. There’s a small protrusion near the hinge—”

“W… Wait!”

Just as she was about to transition into sewing, Dennis hurriedly called for a halt. Elma turned back slowly. Faced with those eyes behind the unreadable glasses, Dennis spoke desperately.

“Wait. …Um, from here on, it’s my turn.”

“…”

“No, I don’t mean because of authority or qualifications… Now that the cursed tool is gone, if it’s just a matter of joining bone and closing flesh, the healing arts are faster than sewing with thread.”

Would she bark at him again? Would she mock him for being useless up until now?

But Dennis had his pride as the youngest recognized Holy Medical Mentor. He felt that if he ran away now, it would be the end of him—and he didn’t want to remain the person who could do nothing for a suffering patient like Theo.

As Dennis spoke haltingly, choosing his words with care…

“…Very well.”

The maid gave an unexpected reply.

“I intended for that to be the case from the start.”

“…Huh?”

“The preparations are complete, Sir Holy Medical Mentor. I humbly request that you perform the treatment.”

With that, she stood up and yielded her place next to Theo. Dennis stood dazed for a moment, but Elma prompted him again, and he hurriedly knelt where she had been.

As he raised his hands to begin the prayer, a slender arm reached out from beside him and took his hand. Elma carefully cleaned Dennis’s fingers with a cloth soaked in spirits.

“It may not be strictly necessary for healing arts, but just in case. You’ve cut your nails very neatly.”

“A… Ah. That… Um… Like you said, I thought I should be clean before touching a patient.”

As she wiped each of his fingers, Elma’s touch was delicate. Despite the situation and her bizarre, cloth-covered appearance, the sensation of those slender fingers made Dennis fluster. He coughed awkwardly to reset himself.

“Th-Then… the prayer.”

He refocused and looked directly at the wound. The flesh had been opened, but because Elma’s work was so beautiful, he no longer found it grotesque.

‘It’s such… a complex structure.’

He thought this as he brought his hands closer. The part he had previously thought of as just a “wound to be healed” contained bone, muscle, and an intricate web of nerves and blood vessels. Every part had a function and a role, entwined together to form a “leg.” It felt rich—beautiful, even.

Dennis closed his eyes and began the Holy Word.

“O supreme light that pours from the heavens.”

He imagined the light bathing the wound, purifying all filth.

“Respond to my prayer, and stretch forth your noble lamp of mercy.”

He gently warmed the damaged muscle fibers and bone, allowing them to melt back into their original forms.

“Embrace and heal this pitiful child of the earth, and bestow your blessing.”

The straight bone was wrapped in sturdy muscle; nerves, vessels, and skin delicately enclosed it—

A soft light overflowed. Simultaneously, a collective gasp of “Oh…!” escaped the onlookers.

When Dennis felt an unprecedented heat in his hands and opened his eyes in surprise—there it was. A leg completely restored to its original state.

“My God…!”

“Theo’s leg is back…!”

Cheers erupted from the knights. Surrounded by the noise, Dennis stared at Theo’s leg in disbelief. Not a single scar remained. A “Perfect Recovery.” It was the first time he had ever performed such a flawless healing.

“Mr. Theo. Can you flex your ankle? Right, left. Up, down. Yes. Thank you.”

Beside him, Elma was calmly checking the recovery. Once she confirmed that there was no pain or discomfort and the leg was fully functional, she let out a sigh of admiration.

“Splendid.”

Then, she bowed deeply to Dennis.

“As expected of a Holy Medical Mentor.”

Her gesture, seemingly one of sincere admiration, was what flustered Dennis this time.

“…Wh-What are you saying? You’re the one who saved him, El—you…!”

“Whatever do you mean? I simply assisted in removing a foreign object. To achieve full functional recovery without even a period of ‘rehabilitation’—it was you who saved him through a literal act of God.”

“Re…hab…ilitation?”

He blinked at the unfamiliar word, but Elma didn’t mind. Seeing her begin to pack away her tools with a flat expression, Dennis steeled his heart and spoke.

“U-Um… Elma. …Miss Elma.”

Dennis was the type of person who bowed before power, status, and beautiful collections. But that also meant his personality was one that would honestly “wag its tail” toward anything he recognized as “amazing” or “stronger than himself.” After seeing her display a technique that easily transcended the pinnacle of medicine—and then having her hand the glory to him and praise him—Dennis had come to feel genuine respect for Elma.

“The reason my healing reached such a finish was because you showed me the structure of the body. In the first place, healing arts are meaningless while a cursed tool is embedded. You are the one who saved him.”

“…No. Not at all. I merely ‘borrowed everyone’s strength’ and ‘helped out as a slightly handy maid within the normal range of duties.’”

However, Elma grumbled back, emphasizing certain parts strangely. In her own mind, she had approached this surgery with a mental defense of “If doing surgery alone is abnormal, then doing it together is normal” and “Extracting a cursed tool is basically like removing an eyelash that got in someone’s eye.” She didn’t want those justifications denied. That was why she had egged on Dennis—whom she pegged as a sore loser—and left the finishing touches to him. It had to be that she, as a maid, had only “assisted.”

But such logic could never work on Dennis.

“What on earth are you talking about! That wasn’t ‘slightly handy’!”

“No. This much is normal.”

“How can a normal person open flesh and join bones that smoothly! You were even going to sew it together. I’ve never seen anything like that, even among experts!”

As Dennis grew heated, Elma took on a slightly miffed, confused aura.

“It is normal, isn’t it? After all, it’s just an extension of building blocks and needlework.”

Hearing her say this with a look of genuine “I don’t understand why you’re saying that,” Lucas thought to himself: Ah. Here it comes.

“Isn’t it normal for girls to train their fingers with anatomical model building blocks, and to be gifted a needle on their third birthday with the wish that they become skilled at needlework?”

“Huh…?”

“My first ‘ope’ was when I was five, and I believe anyone with a bit of handiness could perform a surgery of that level… Could it be that people in the outside world can’t even do that much? Even the doctors?”

Everyone present felt like they heard the sound of a twig snapping. It was likely the sound of Dennis’s ego being snapped in half after his heart and mind had already been gouged out by her earlier verbal abuse.

“…! …! …!!”

Dennis’s eyes grew teary as he clenched his fists. Lucas placed a hand gently on his shoulder and whispered: “Don’t let her get to you.”

However, no one could have predicted at the time that this young Medical Mentor, spurred on by her words, would go on to treat commoners with vigor, deepen his understanding of the human body, and eventually become a legendary Holy Medical Mentor.