I did the final treatment of the wounded who had survived a life-threatening crisis and then classified them into those who needed continuous care and those who didn't. With this, the imperial court should be able to take care of the patients themselves.

Marsen's aide-de-camp Ophelia, a witness to my quick handling of the situation, was amazed.

"So you weren’t lying about being a magician. I didn't know you were such a great healer on top of that."

I pointed out two things to her. "First of all, what I used is not healing, but alchemy. And why are you suddenly speaking with honorifics?”

She blushed and let out a fake cough. "Khmm! I was wrong up until yesterday. It was rude of me to speak informally when you were in a position to do us a favor that was close to being forced to do so. I officially apologize."

Her apology stunned me.

"No, it's natural, considering your age.”

"I’m!"

Ophelia, who cut me off with a shout full of murderous aura, took a deep breath and forced a smile.

"Whoah, I'm not that old. You must consider the average life expectancy of the Fairy Tribe and that of the general population before comparing them.”

I wanted...