Chapter 1. Surviving as an F-Rank Healer (9)
Saying I found the old school building while eating lunch was half true.
Narin Academy’s buildings blended traditional hanok architecture naturally with modern structures I recognized.
But the old school building was a bit different.
It was shaped entirely like a hanok.
And not just any hanok—more like a creepy, abandoned one.
Creeeak—
The sound of the door opening echoed through the quiet interior.
‘The first time I came here, I was tense, thinking a ghost might pop out.’
After coming here every lunchtime, I’d gotten used to it.
If anything, I’d grown fond of this silence.
‘The mana isn’t quiet, though.’
Maybe because it was unstable.
Unlike other places, I could physically feel the mana much more clearly here, which I actually liked.
Without hesitation, I headed straight to my destination.
“This workshop really does look like a place where ghosts would appear.”
Dust coated the interior.
Each long table, combined with a sink, was equipped with a full set of tools, including triangular flasks.
On one side, boxes of empty potion bottles were stacked high. Beside them stood a storage cabinet, empty except for its top shelf.
“Hm.”
My fingers barely reached the top shelf. I should take everything up there.
I remembered that when about three apocalypse dungeons had opened, the status-effect removal potions stored there had been unexpectedly useful.
Because they’d been kept for so long in unstable mana, otherworldly mana had seeped in, making them more effective inside dungeons—or so the explanation went.
Either way, they helped. I could set them aside and give them to the protagonist later.
‘But for now, my training comes first.’
Where are you, miniature dungeon?
It had been a useless burden to the protagonist, but to me, it was a vital magic tool.
I needed to find it first.
After opening the windows to ventilate and roughly adjusting to the unstable mana flow—
Shaaaa—
From somewhere, I heard the sound of waves crashing, followed by sand shifting.
I slowly moved in the direction of the sound.
Carefully, like approaching a frightened young animal.
Then—tap
The moment I reached the table directly in front of the cabinet I’d mentioned earlier, I grabbed a flask.
I moved as if someone might steal it, because this miniature dungeon disguised itself as a laboratory tool and escaped without a sound.
A mobile dungeon.
‘Once you catch it, it doesn’t resist.’
Instead, it tests you.
Or maybe—
That wasn’t really a test.
“Feels like the sound came from here.”
I spoke in an awkward tone, loud enough for the “demon sword Erich,” pretending to be asleep inside the dungeon, to hear.
I held the flask to my ear.
“Yeah, definitely here. The mana too.”
The next moment—
With a small gasp, I was sucked into the flask.
Exactly as planned.
***
When I opened my eyes, I was standing in a forest clearing bathed in sunlight.
In the center of the clearing were three small jewel boxes.
The test was simple.
Choose the one with the most unstable mana.
‘No need to even read the mana.’
I pretended to think for about thirty seconds, then read the sign posted behind the boxes.
“Choose your destiny? What is this, a starter village?”
I even threw in a bit of playful commentary.
Alright.
“Hmm. Then I’ll take this one!”
The moment I chose the wooden box that barely deserved to be called a jewel box, loud laughter echoed from somewhere.
This box was only visible to awakeners with C-rank mana or lower.
When choosing a master, the demon sword Erich deliberately selected someone weak so that one day they would need its power.
‘Of course, there were other criteria too… but since I can see this box, those must be satisfied.’
Once the choice was made, the demon sword tested how easy the person was to deceive.
[Contractor
“Gah—w-what? Who’s there? Where’s that voice coming from?”
[Do not be alarmed. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Erich Benod, descendant of the hero Axillion of Old Benod Castle. I am a divine messenger who has awakened to form a contract with you.
Divine messenger, my ass.
I suppressed my laugh and acted like a naive F-rank.
Let’s just sign the contract first.
“A divine messenger?”
[Indeed. You are the one chosen by me. Your soul is as deep and clear as the waters of Regamot!
This guy was just spouting nonsense.
Regamot was the name of a demon realm Erich had lived in before being sealed into a sword.
‘Fire flows like water there, doesn’t it?’
He wasn’t calling me hot-tempered, was he? No—he really was just saying whatever came to mind.
As I pretended to be shy, the demon sword spoke again.
[Contractor, will you not form a contract with me?]
“…Um. If I do, what’s in it for me?”
By paying a small price, you may freely use my power. Before that, you must pass a few dangerous trials …]
“Dangerous trials?”
When I asked in a frightened voice, Erich hurriedly continued.
[Trials that convert your HP and lifespan into mana. Mana extracted at the cost of life is purer and denser than any other.
That kind of line only appealed to someone like Yoo Hanseong.
But this F-rank healer also happened to be short on mana, so Erich was lucky.
“High-purity, high-density mana? Then I could make lots of potions with just a little, right?”
Potions should be bought and used, contractor. We have no need for such trivial potions.
Of course you’d say that.
It was almost pitiful, thinking of the future where even those “trivial” potions would become precious to Erich.
“I see. Okay.”
From now on, every potion I make will be called a “trivial potion,” and I will never give a single one to Erich.
He’ll learn later that one of his unsealing conditions requires being fed low-grade potions continuously.
“But do I really have to do that? It sounds dangerous.”
Erich’s voice became smoother, more coaxing.
[Do not worry. Even if you fall into danger during the trial, I will protect you.
At that, I widened my eyes and made them glisten like a naive manga heroine.
Right on cue.
And shouted,
“Thank you! You’re such a kind box!”
