[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke novel Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Healer’s Paradise

The last traces of the hearty meal lingered on Xion’s tongue. The warm soup was delicious, and so was the freshly baked bread. It tasted particularly nice when eaten on a slightly chilly morning.

Clearing his throat, Xion was about to speak but halted. "Old man" felt like the wrong name to call someone who had been nothing but kind, even if the said old man never complained.

After some internal debate, he settled on the simplest form of address. "Mister."

Xion slightly leaned forward on the sturdy wooden table, "Mister, can you help me with something?"

Berry glanced up from his plate, meanwhile, his jaw was busy chewing on an impressively large chunk of meatloaf. He raised a bushy eyebrow, silently encouraging Xion to continue.

"I need to open a temporary clinic. As you already know, I am a healer, but I am not good with anything else." Xion scratched his chin in embarrassment.

"Things, eh?" Berry swallowed noisily, finally clearing his throat. "Like?"

Xion sipped his purple juice, grimacing slightly at the tartness. The fruit was delicious, but the acidity felt like it was scrubbing his teeth. "Like knowing the customs of the market, prices of the herbs and... not getting kidnapped."

Berry threw his head back and let out a loud laugh, "Pfftt Hahaha... Of course! I know just a place for yah!" Berry slapped the table, nearly spilling Xion’s juice. "No kidnappings on my guard!"

Not an hour later, Xion found himself standing in the room in the middle of the bustling market as Berry had promised.

The clinic’s interior was modest but undeniably pristine. Wooden shelves lined the walls, gleaming faintly in the sunlight streaming through the open window.

A faint scent of herbs mingled with fresh wood polish. The strange combination oddly calmed his nerves.

"Being in His Grace’s service has many benefits!" Berry grinned proudly, flashing a set of shockingly white teeth that caught the light so perfectly.

Xion nearly squinted. For a moment, he couldn’t decide which was shinier: the old man’s teeth or his bald head.

Shaking the absurd thought from his head, Xion focused on the task at hand. His eyes caught the wooden board nailed above the entrance, proclaiming in bold, uneven letters: "A Cheap Clinic for the Sick."

Xion’s lip twitched. He had scrawled that sign in a rush during an emergency at his last location. He never intended to see it again, let alone reuse it!

"It sounds a bit absurd now," he muttered under his breath. But with no time to create a new one, the sign stayed.

Unlike the noisy bazaar he had been in before, this district bustled with a certain sophistication. The roads were wide and fairly clean, stalls were neatly arranged, and the air smelled of freshly baked bread and exotic spices.

Nobles strolled alongside commoners; their elaborate clothing easily told them apart.

Berry’s earlier words echoed in Xion’s mind: "This here is Uzera, Healer’s Paradise! Nobles, merchants, and even high dignitaries come from far and wide. They’ll pay a pretty coin for their aches and mysteries. A perfect spot for yah, little healer."

And so began Xion’s grand opening of the clinic in the middle of the market.

The clinic wasn’t empty for long. Soon, a small line formed outside, ranging from frail old men to children tugging on their mothers’ skirts, all eager to see the miraculous healer who could even heal the Blight Spot.

It was not hard to guess how they knew about it. Even sitting inside, Xion was able to hear the loud cheerful voice, telling others about his personal experience.

His first patient was an elderly woman with a walking stick. She shuffled inside, looking around curiously before stopping in front of Xion.

"Madam, how can I help?" Despite only his lips being visible under his grey robe, he asked with a polite smile.

She squinted at him. "You’re the healer? You look... scrawny." She poked his arm with her bony finger. "Do you eat enough? I’m not paying a healer who faints mid-treatment."

Xion resisted the urge to facepalm. "I assure you, I’m fine. Now, what’s the problem?"

"My son’s goats won’t produce milk!"

"I’m... not a veterinarian."

The elderly woman frowned, "What’s a vet-ri-nanny? We can’t afford a nanny for a goat!"

For the next five minutes, Xion tried, and failed, to convince her that healing humans and animals required different expertise. She left grumbling about "useless quacks."

Xion, the useless Quack, "..." I am not!