Chapter 303 303. Trouble

"No!" Daline stood up with her arms extended out, protecting Sylvester behind herself with her eyes full of fire.

"Daddy, no! It's not big brother's fault that you're old and smelly! But don't worry, I will visit you once every month."

"..."

"Bwahaha…" The Pope laughed heartily and patted the girl's head. "Do you want to marry our young bard? But he's a clergyman. So he can't marry a woman or have a family."

"Correct!" Healer Hendrix chirped. "My precious, that boy is a clergyman. He's devoted to God and can't marry anyone."

"B-But…" Her eyes became watery once again. "I just… I want big brother…"

Sylvester patted her head and spoke kindly. "We can still be very good friends, Daline. I am also building a small house nearby, so you can come there to see me from time to time. It will also be selling a lot of tasty food."

"Really? How tasty?" She asked.

Sylvester rubbed his chin and wondered how to explain a pizza's taste. "It's delicious, and there is also a new sweet-ice, and tangy drink. You will love it, I promise. But, if you cry, I'm afraid the shopkeeper there won't let you in."

"But I don't cry that much. I only shout to make daddy do things for me…Oh!" She unknowingly spoke too much and looked at her father with worry.

But, the old man Hendrix didn't appear angry at all. He was just smiling and doting. "Oho! My little Daline is so smart. She knows how to manipulate people. Good girl."

"..."

Sylvester was annoyed and shocked to see that the enabler of the girl's crying was none other than her father. 'Why even ask me to shut her up then?'

He sighed and ignored the minor inconvenience. He just wanted to get his solarium blockage treated as fast as possible.

"So, can we start with the treatment now?" Sylvester inquired and let the girl go.

"Sure. Just go there and lie down." Hendrix pointed at a mattress set in the corner of the room.

"Remove your clothes except for the underwear as well. I will first check your entire body and see if there is any other blockage. Solarium Blockage is not a common condition; I have only treated it slightly over a dozen times. Usually, it's caused by some dumb wizards or knights doing more dumb things. But in your case, it's different. You had to battle for your life, meaning you spent all your solarium. At the same time, you were ranking up to Archwizard rank, which is not a low rank. Hence the damage might be more substantial."

Sylvester silently digested all the knowledge and asked questions from time to time. "Have you ever been unsuccessful at treating this?"

"Once—It was a mess. It was some dumb prince on the Sand Continent. He didn't have a high talent but wanted it at all costs. So, he thought it'd be great to inject the blood of an Archwizard into his body just when he was about to rank up to Adept Wizard in the hope it would magically make him the same. It didn't, and he died miserably as every organ in his body failed over a period of a month. I was sightseeing there, so I went to see him." Hendrix collected his tools as he talked about the story.

The Pope nodded, as he knew some cases like that too. "Indeed. I know a few buffoons who tried body mutilation to raise their Wizard talent. One tried to inject the soul of a lizard into his body to gain regenerative property. Unfortunately, the wizard only died as his body disintegrated itself over a period of a month. The sad part is that the man already had the talent of a Grand Wizard, but his greed killed him."

"Wait." Hendrix looked at the Pope with a confused face. "Who are you?"

The Pope smirked and rubbed his chin. "Make a guess."

Hendrix walked around the Pope a few times. "Hmm… Show me your hands."

The Pope did, and the healer tapped on the Pope's palms a few times. "I knew it! You're the Pope, aren't you? I can never forget that massage. It was the best of my lifetime."

"..."

Sylvester looked at the two tall, old men giggling and touching each other. "You remember him from the hands? And you don't seem very shocked that the Pope is here."

"Why would I be shocked by the Pope? Isn't he just a powerful human? Like any other king or queen, perhaps not as corrupt and spoiled." Hendrix replied and moved to Sylvester.

'I don't smell any fear or anxiety from him. This is… weird. Every time I see someone interacting with the Pope or even the Guardians, the other side reeks of fear.'

Sylvester removed his robes and lay down facing the ceiling without asking any more questions. "The pain usually remains in my leg. Whenever it becomes unbearable, I cut open a wound and remove the blood clots."

"Shh… Don't speak now." Hendrix started tapping on Sylvester's body and caressing some parts.

From his neck to his chest, then his abs, and to the thighs. He even tapped on the nether regions over the underwear. But the man was a doctor, and Sylvester knew better than to feel ashamed of your doctor.

The evaluation lasted a whole hour, and Hendrix checked every spot on Sylvester. By the end, Sylvester even felt like sleeping as all the tapping felt like a massage.

"You're alright. I noticed a minor blockage on your left shoulder too, but it's so minor that you never felt it. Other than that, it's only on the leg. You're one lucky man. The survival rate against the Shadow Knight is zero, and you not only survived but also ranked up simultaneously. Now, I just need to take a blood sample from the clot on the thigh." Hendrix moved away from Sylvester and fiddled with something in his table drawer.

Sylvester became slightly nervous in that instant. "What's the blood for?"

"To see if your blockage is Solarium blockage or some other disease such as cancer. If it's cancer, then I can't help much. It's the one disease that's hardest to heal since it's tied to a person's blood itself."

Sylvester was still not satisfied. There was no denying that the man could effortlessly know he had Elven blood in him. 'This is bad. He's a grand wizard. It should be a piece of cake for him to differentiate the blood of various species.'

"How do you find out something like that?" He inquired.

"Tsk, you're too intruding, kid. I'm a Grand Wizard, not your little run-of-the-mill healer with flashy green hands. My knowledge goes deeper, and even without magic, I can heal most diseases. It's easy to separate the blood's components and see if there is any abnormality. No more questions now, or you can go home."

Sylvester shut up for good. 'Should I abort? But… Where else can I find someone to heal this? In the Holy Land, too, they will take my blood, and if they test it there, I'm dead. Hmm… Lord Inquisitor did say this man's tongue can be trusted—But how religious is he? That's what matters.'

Sadly, he had no way of knowing.

'What should I do? Taking a leap of faith is something dumb people do, especially in a situation like this. If they find out, mum and I will be killed before we can even think about running away.'

"Aha! There it is, this little bugger." Hendrix exclaimed suddenly. "I recently bought this from a travelling healer. He said this little thing is called Syringe, and it's bloody brilliant! I don't need to make any cuts to take samples anymore."

'A man who was so interested in healing arts that despite having the talent of a Grand Wizard, he didn't pick a sword or a staff?' Sylvester had an idea just then, something too risky, but it was better than going in blind.

'If he values healing arts more than anything, then perhaps my knowledge can make him interested enough to think twice before revealing my secret.'

The Pope proudly bellowed just then. "Darwin, do you want to know who the inverter is?"

"Who?"

"You're about to stab him."

"..."

Hendrix turned around and stared at Sylvester and then at the syringe in his hand. He did it many times before speaking. "No lies?"

"I had to make it to heal commoners who were injured by the Soul Eater demon," Sylvester answered. "I also created a rehydration potion one can use on sick to keep them from dying. It's all patented in the Church."

"Indeed. The bard is a genius." The Pope was acting more like a boasting grandpa than a Pope.

'Good, feel the excitement and interest in me.' Sylvester silently observed everything.

But Hendrix didn't say anything and instead proceeded with the extraction. He plunged the needle into Sylvester's thigh and took out some blood in a small glass vial. It was a relatively short process.

Then, Hendrix returned to his table and poured the vial's content onto a small glass plate. After that, he hovered his right hand on it and produced a strange red light of multiple layered runes. Neither the Pope nor Sylvester had seen them before.

Hendrix kept doing it for a good fifteen minutes. By the end, the glass plate had a few dots of different colours and textures.

Sylvester kept his senses high and focused on the emotions. 'Please don't be a crazy fanatic.'

"So?" The Pope asked.

"He's alright. See these dots? All these are components of blood. Red blood cells, white blood cells, platelets, plasma and a few more. The good news is that he does not have any other disease." Hendrix said before pouring some burning oil on the glass plate and finishing it there.

"Why did you burn the blood? Is that common practice?" The Pope questioned him.

Hendrix shrugged and watched as the glass plate melted and soon turned into dust. "You want his blood to fall into the hands of someone evil out there? I take no risks with folks as important as him."

The Pope nodded firmly. "True, he's the future backbone of the faith."

Sylvester's eyes narrowed in that instant. "Really? You didn't find anything in my blood?"

"No, you're good, bard," Hendrix replied.

Sylvester took a sigh of relief and rubbed his head awkwardly. "Hah, I thought I'd have diabetes or something since I eat so much honey."

But within the mind, a storm of turmoil was raging.

'Fuck! He knows! He bloody knows! What do I do now? There's no way I can kill a Grand Wizard!'

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