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Watchman To Chaos Hero

Hubert - The Goddess's Empathy And Wrath In a world filled with sorceries, miracles, and knights, Young Hubert found himself immersed in struggle, trauma, and tragedy after joining the watchman. Deemed as a deserter turned slave, he tried to survive by learning from the greatest teachers, friends, and experiences. Fighting corruption from internal conflicts of nobles and politics inside the kingdom of Creopia or the threatening dangers of the northern barbarians, indigenous tribes of the southern kingdom, pirates of the east, and the mysterious creatures of the western mountain range. Where even the helmsman of fate has corrupted. He soon realized his greater duty in the world was to protect it. "Wh-what? My element is... void?"

Nekoman · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
54 Chs

The Infirmary??

"Ha!" Hubert groaned.

His eyes sprung open, as if from a deep slumber. He shifted his weight as he sat upright, feeling the soft and gentle bed beneath him.

The morning sunlight, warm and welcoming, blessed him. The room was lit and vibrant, decorated by plants and books. A gentle breeze poured into the room from a nearby open window.

Furnished by beds of white, where people lay on them.

"Where am I?" Hubert asked, confused.

Sweat soaked his cloth as his eyes darted around, scanning for answers.

Then he noticed Aadish and his group, lying on the beds around him. Their faces bruised, and their eyes shut peacefully. Their muscles were unmoving as they lay in silence.

"Ugh!" He groaned.

NGINGGGGG

A sudden sound, like a bell that had just rung right in his ears, sounded. As the buzzing continued, Hubert felt his head about to explode into millions of pieces.

An unclear, dull voice reached him. The voice was vibrant and gentle, yet shrouded and overwritten by the buzz.

"Are… you… okay?" the voice asked.

Hubert looked around, his vision blurring as he did so.

The person in front of him, seemingly slender and petite. The person wore a white attire.

The person was a she.

She then placed her palms, floating gently above it, on Hubert's forehead.

Her gloved hand felt both warm and stiff.

Hubert's eyes widened, yet he was reminded of the situation as the buzzing continued.

"Sana… Hoc… Homine!" she chanted hurriedly.

Then a green magic circle came out of nowhere. A sudden feeling of something, an energy, refreshing and healing, entered him. 

The spell had provided him respite from the torture.

He gritted his teeth, enduring the last remnant of pain from the buzzing in his ear.

Then it slowly disappeared.

"Ye-yes…!" Hubert replied, his voice struggling and shaky. 

"Ha… Thank the Goddess," the woman sighed and said, her tone relieved.

Only then Hubert truly was able to see clearly. 

The woman in front of him stood in her white, long garb that covered from her shoulders to her ankles, a layer of apron on top of it, providing an extra layer of clothing. 

A nurse cap sat comfortably on her ginger red hair, the letter H, bolded and covered in red, stitched into the middle of it.

"Nurse…?" Hubert asked, he had only become more confused than before.

"Ah, yes! I'm a nurse, you are the first one that woke up from all the boys," the nurse exclaimed, explaining as she pulled a cloth out of her front apron pocket.

"What happened… I'm sure we were just-" Hubert stopped his words.

A quick flashback to the clearing reminded himself of what he had done, attacking a noble. A crime punishable by the laws of the kingdom.

"Fighting, right? Don't worry, it's much more common than you think it is. But…" the nurse paused as she leaned forward.

She wiped off the sweat from Hubert's forehead with her cloth, her wipe gentle and slow, like a mother.

Hubert felt warmth and comfort embracing him. His heart beat fast, nervous of the predicament in front of him. The eyes of the nurse he saw, energetic, like the color of the autumn leaves.

"But what…?" he asked, his voice following the rhythm of her wipe, slow.

"But I've never seen someone survive an attack that strong. Even the instructors were surprised when they found out what you were hit with," the nurse told, spilling the beans.

Hubert stared at her, confused.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't have any idea of the fight, much less about the attack," Hubert replied.

"You were hit with a powerful fireball. According to the testimony of some students and the deductions of the instructors, they have deemed it as a rank 2 spell," the nurse explained. Her hand continued on its duty.

"Rank 2?" Hubert asked, unfamiliar of the term.

"Ah! You are in grade… two, right? I'm sorry, it's something you will learn about when you have reached grade three," the nurse mentioned.

"Yes…" Hubert affirmed.

Then she noticed a sweat that had just formed beside Hubert's eyes.

"Wait, don't move," she commanded.

Her eyes nailed their attention there, and her hand moved. Carefully, she softly wiped the sweat.

Then their eyes met.

Her autumn-like eyes met with Hubert's eyes, akin to an obsidian.

A slight, light red blush formed on their cheeks.

"Ah, I-I should get back to work," the nurse turned away, embarrassed.

"Ye-yes, I need to rest," Hubert turned his gaze away. Both of their words were stiff.

Hubert sat on the bed in silence, his cheeks containing the residue of his blush as he stole a few glances at the nurse that walked away from him.

He watched as he understood the absurd feelings he shouldn't have.

He had a mission, after all.

"Wait… the mark!" he said to himself. Then he looked at his hand, knowing that the mark of the church, a slave's brand, was on his palm.

Sigh

A sigh of relief followed, his glove was still equipped, wrapped tightly around his hand.

"Thank the Goddess…" Hubert muttered.

Only then did he noticed, a feeling of numbness that had spread in his arm, from the tip of his fingers until his elbow.

"This feels weird," he said, unfamiliar with the feeling.

Yet he realized that the best was already done. The fact that his skin survived intact and wasn't marked by the ferocious burning fire was a miracle.

"I wonder, where is Dareon?" he asked, then his head surveyed the room, searching for the bed on which laid his friend.

His search was futile. The bed contained, if not empty, Aadish and his group as previously mentioned, and a few unfamiliar faces. Though it was clear that the few unfamiliar faces seemed older, more experienced and exhausted.

Sigh

He then placed his head on the comfy pillow, his eyes gazed at the ceiling of white as he spent his time in the infirmary.

In the extravagant office, instructor Vinc and Javarius knelt.

"Headmaster," they greeted.

"Hmm… I wonder, what is the appropriate punishment for the son of Baron of Soondi, Aadish?" the voice, feminine yet pressuring, echoed through the room.

Vinc and Javarius stood up.

"Any suggestions?" the headmaster asked, almost testing.

"I suggest we take this approach carefully, headmaster. Afterall, the Baron of Soondi is the brother of the southern duke," Vinc spoke up first.

"I agree with Vinc, headmaster! Give Aadish a harsh sentence, then we'll only make an enemy with the south. The king won't take this kindly," Javarius added, his bold voice filling the room.

The headmaster sat on her chair, facing the large window from which the sunlight leaked into.

"Then, do you suggest we let him free?" the headmaster asked, her voice challenging.

"...No, headmaster," the two instructors bowed down and answered.

"No noble in this place, not in my academy, will have free reign in this place!" the headmaster shouted, confirming her rule.

"Yes, headmaster!" the instructors echoed.

Then they left the room.

"Class C… Hubert, you're getting interesting, I wonder… No…" the headmaster muttered.

"Hubert!" Dareon called.

"H-huh?" Hubert opened his eyes, sleepy as he rubbed it and sat up.

"Are you okay?" Dareon asked, worried.

As Hubert sat up, the warm, orangey evening sun greeted him. He then looked to his visitors, the worried Dareon in his leisure clothing and the silence and emotionless Ron, unchanged from his servant suit, filled his field of vision.

"I'm okay, Dareon," Hubert said, waving his hand dismissively. Another was placed on his head, slightly aching from the long sleep.

"Hubert… strong," Ron exclaimed, praising.

Hubert smiled upon Ron's words.

"Thank you," Hubert said.

"You won't believe it! The fireball was so huge, I thought it was the sun when I noticed it! Then th…" his voice shaky, his muscle trembling as he gritted his fist.

Hubert noticed, he etched a smile.

"Don't worry, Dareon," Hubert said, his tone calming.

"You shouldn't have, we, me, Ron, and the instructors all thought that we lost you," Dareon said, his voice remained shaky, a slight tear formed on the corner of his scarred eyelids while snot came out of his nose.

"Hey! I'm not that weak, I wouldn't defend from that if I knew I couldn't handle it. But here I am, healthy and strong again, right?" Hubert spoke, still in his effort to calm Dareon.

Dareon nodded, wiping the tear off with his hand.

"But did Ron really worry about me, though?" Hubert asked, his eyes squinting at Ron.

Ron looked away and whistled playfully.

"Hahaha…" Dareon chuckled lightly. Hubert accompanied him.

"By the way, what happened when I'm unconscious? Did you succeed in beating Aadish?" Hubert asked.

"Of course! All it took was a single punch to his cheek and he was done!" Dareon bragged, flexing his bicep muscle.

"Thank Goddess, I thought you would actually lose," Hubert sighed jokingly.

"Of course not! I'm not you," Dareon responded.

"HHAHAHAHAHA," the two burst into laughter.

As the sun drowned into the horizon and Ron left to attend to his duties, Hubert and Dareon continued onto their conversation. 

Their talks were full of warm laughter and interesting stories as their voices echoed through the room, almost disturbing other unfortunous people.

"Hubert, I have something to ask you. Your hand, are you…" Dareon broke the flow.