Time Healer Ceres - Chapter 22

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“Sigh.”
Those who watched him exit the conference hall let out a long breath, none of them waiting for the other to start.
“The rumors were true.”
“They certainly were.”
“What manner of person is he….”
Was it the sheer force of his presence, draining the vigor from everyone around him?
Several nobles’ palms had grown slick with sweat from the tension.
The Golden Land, rich with countless resources.
Persha, the Grand Duke commanding the Northern Region’s supremacy.
‘Well, there will be more meetings ahead.’
They resolved to forge some connection with him over the weekly meetings scheduled for the coming month.
“Forgive my intrusion.”
Just then, a gaunt man in his fifties hastened after Kainel, offering a quick bow as he left the hall.
“The Count of House Elrushia?”
Everyone turned toward him with puzzled expressions.
Why was he suddenly chasing after the Grand Duke?
Surely he wasn’t trying to make a preemptive move?
“Ah, I recall hearing something about this once.”
“What do you mean?”
“That the former head of House Elrushia and the Grand Duke of Persha were once very close.”
“Ah, yes, I believe I’ve heard that as well.”
“Aren’t you referring to Grace?”
Grace, the Count of House Elrushia—once called a saint.
The fact that she had been an intimate close friend of the Grand Duke of Persha was fairly well known.
Some whispered that it was Persha’s Grand Duke himself who had taken her corpse—but was it true?
“Hm… is he trying to exploit that old connection?”
“Tsk.”
Those present shook their heads repeatedly as they grasped his intentions.
They all knew his character well—he would resort to anything for profit.
Was he scheming to monopolize the rare medicinal herbs produced in the Northern Region?
Having discerned the Count of House Elrushia’s mind, trying as he was to wring use from an affinity three centuries old, all of them exhaled in resignation.
“Lord Kainel.”
Outside the conference hall, Dell, Kainel’s adjutant, bowed respectfully as his master emerged first.
“How was the meeting?”
“Quiet.”
“Pardon?”
“Everyone was rather silent.”
“…”
Dell, well aware that the Imperial Conference Hall was typically a scene of heated arguments, exhaled silently.
‘It must be because of Lord Kainel.’
Having divined the situation, he offered an awkward smile.
“Grand Duke of Persha!”
At that moment, someone approached them urgently, smiling broadly, and offered a respectful bow to Kainel.
“It is an honor to meet you for the first time. I am Creel of House Elrushia.”
At those words, emotion flickered across Kainel’s previously indifferent eyes.
Yet his expression, which had grown hazy for an instant, froze cold as though nothing had happened.
“Though I am unworthy, I currently serve as the head of House Elrushia. To meet you, the close companion of our house’s glory, Grace… it is truly an honor.”
“And?”
“Pardon?”
“Your business?”
“Ah, well… if you perhaps have time, would you care to join me for tea?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Pardon?”
“I said I’d rather not. Why should I have tea with a man I’m meeting for the first time?”
“Ah…”
“Is that all you wanted?”
“Well, that is to say…”
Creel maintained his smile while his expression threatened to stiffen.
‘Did I misunderstand something?’
Impossible.
It was a matter of historical record that Grace Elrushia had been a close friend of the Grand Duke Persha.
Yet in the eyes of the man regarding this kin of his cherished companion, there was not a trace of warmth.
Creel’s lips went dry—he had been preparing to broach the subject by invoking their shared past.
“Did you understand what I asked?”
“Ah, yes! Well then, I shall take my leave. Perhaps we’ll meet again another time.”
Seeing Kainel’s brow twitch for a moment, Creel hastily excused himself.
He realized he had moved far too rashly.
‘I should have learned more about the Grand Duke before taking action.’
His impatience had driven him to thrust his inquiry forward without preparation, and all he had managed to confirm was that the information about Kainel Persha possessing an extraordinarily vile temperament was true—he had no choice but to retreat.
He needed to vacate the space before the Grand Duke’s mood deteriorated further.
Even as Creel quickened his pace, he could not hide his sense of loss, repeatedly running his tongue over his teeth.
“He doesn’t seem to wield a sword at all. And yet he is the head of House Elrushia….”
Kainel’s eyes narrowed as he watched the man recede into the distance, now no more than a speck.
“House Elrushia is renowned for its mastery of the Healing Arts, not the Swordsmanship. It’s possible he simply doesn’t know how to wield one, isn’t it?”
Del, Kainel’s aide, wore a puzzled expression at this.
Everyone knew well that House Elrushia had earned its fame through its extraordinary proficiency in the Healing Arts.
“Originally, they were a sword house.”
“Pardon?”
“The Empire’s greatest sword house, they were called. The foundation of House Elrushia lies in the blade.”
Aide Del could not conceal his astonishment at hearing this for the first time.
The root of House Elrushia was not the Healing Arts, but Swordsmanship?
“And….”
Among that very house, the one who had been called the greatest prodigy of the sword was none other than—
Grace.
* * *
A stifled cry tore from a throat.
“Keep your hands up straight. Are you deaf?”
“No, no sir!”
“Straight, I said!”
The Croi Gang, who dealt in loan sharking—in other words, money lending by threats and coercion—were notorious figures in these streets.
They had earned a fearsome reputation for their willingness to resort to any method whatsoever in order to extract payment.
Indeed, it was commonplace for them to sell debtors into slavery if they could not repay their debts.
A low groan escaped.
“Your hands.”
“Yes, yes! Straight up, sir!”
And yet the current state of the Croi Gang was so wretched that one might doubt these were the very men who had earned such a fearsome name.
Easily twenty or more of them knelt on the ground, hands raised before them like students confessing their wrongs.
Not a single one among them was unscathed. Visible wounds gaped here and there, and many bore missing teeth that mangled their speech.
A bitter sound escaped between clenched teeth.
‘What the hell is this woman?’
‘I thought she was insane!’
This state of affairs had begun mere minutes ago.
The Croi Gang, enjoying what had been a peaceful afternoon, heard a knock, watched a woman push open the door and enter, and found themselves so dumbfounded they could not close their mouths.
The first words she spoke upon stepping inside were utterly absurd.
‘Were you the ones who laid a hand on one of my employees?’
Wielding nothing but a wooden stick, the woman stepped through the door. Most of them let out hollow laughs, while a few dug their fingers into their ears.
They had thought her genuinely insane.
A scream tore the air.
Choking gasps.
‘P-please! Ack! Stop, please stop…!’
And yet it took less than thirty minutes before they found themselves kneeling and begging.
Beaten senseless by nothing more than a wooden stick, they had no choice but to kneel before her with hands raised.
Observing their denial of reality, Ceres let out a silent scoff.
‘After being beaten like this, none of them will dare claim to be the head of House Elrushia.’
House Elrushia was among the Empire’s most acclaimed sword families. The Healing Arts were, one might say, merely a hobby.
She had studied the human body to identify vital points, delved into Herbalism to accelerate wound healing.
The “Healing Arts of House Elrushia,” that fusion of the two, was purely the product of chance. A happy accident, catching a mouse while backing up to sweep the floor.
‘Somehow, I ended up spending far more time with medicinal herbs than with the blade.’
A pastime that had grown to eclipse one’s primary calling—such was her lot.
Yet he had never once set down his sword.
The disciples he’d trained were no different. Anyone belonging to House Elrushia had Swordsmanship as a foundation.
‘Even that dim-witted Enok matched the Imperial Knight Order Commander in skill.’
Ceres glanced at the wooden stick she’d brought from Mark’s room and smiled to herself.
A sword would be overkill for dealing with this lot.
“Uugh.”
A groan sounded from one corner—Croi, the gang leader who’d taken the worst beating from Ceres.
‘You bastard!’
Thwack!
‘Ack! Drop dead! You—!’
Crack!
‘Gah! You worthless scum! You—!’
Thwack!
Oblivious to the situation and continuing to hurl curses as he charged again, Croi received the full force of Ceres’s meticulous attention—every blow delivered with genuine care.
“Hey, you there.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
As if he hadn’t just been groaning moments before, Croi snapped to attention faster than anyone else could have.
Still gripping the wooden stick in one hand, Ceres asked with genuine curiosity, her tone utterly serious.
“Didn’t I pay the interest this month?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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