The battle with Alaric had left Stark in a terrible state. Although Chubby had done his best to heal him, at a point, he had to stop.
Healing was so good that it was sought out earnestly by various groups. Adventurers, knight companies, and lords actively sought out talented healers because of how rare they were, and how efficient they could be.
In an assault group, having a healer could be the difference between the success and failure of a mission—but there was still a drawback to healing.
And that was mana poisoning...
If you were healed too many tis under a very short period of ti, or if the injury was so severe that the mana needed beca too large, the patient could suffer from mana poisoning.
The sickness often ca with headaches, stiff limbs, vomiting, and several other symptoms—sotis even worse than the injury.
There were tis mana poisoning could even lead to death...
The more powerful the healer, the lesser the chances of mana poisoning, but Chubby was not at that level, at least not yet.
That was why he had to take a break from the healing, to allow Stark’s body to do the rest.
His burned skin had mostly been healed and, although he could still feel so tingles at tis, it was nothing too serious.
The main problem was how he felt inside. His ribs were aching, his heart seed to be skipping beats, and he was using a walking stick whenever he went out.
Thankfully, it was just a two to three day thing.
As his thoughts finally settled, Stark realized that he had been standing still in his bathroom.
He quickly ran a bar of soap over his hair, allowing the hot water to wash the lather away.
The new rune-powered hot water showers were probably one of the best things that had happened in recent years.
The water felt divine against his skin, and he often found himself spending far longer in his showers.
The little room had beco his thinking spot. Anyti he needed to ponder on sothing, he often ca to take these long showers.
Today, he was reflecting...
He glanced at his arms and smiled faintly.
He was noticeably more buff than before, his muscles slowly adapting to the strenuous nature of combat.
Just a few months ago, he would have struggled against most monsters and died if faced with a knight.
But now? He had slain countless beasts, defeated two knights, tussled with mages. Hell, he had even fought a crusader!
And now, he was just a few steps away from commanding lightning.
Stark looked up at the water, his eyes blurring from the drops that filled his eyelids.
It was a good feeling... being able to see your progression with your own eyes.
If he could grow this much in such a short ti, then he was sure he could reach the realm of the paragons and even the king.
"One step at a ti..."
For now, what he needed was rest—at least a short period of rest before he dove back into training.
He could feel that his ti in this city was coming to an end, but before that, he was determined to summon the dragon.
Stark had seen the way Alaric watched him during training, the way he poured his knowledge into him to groom him into a powerhouse.
To Alaric, he was his hope.
The one to carry on his legacy...
His last student.
He did not plan to fail the old man, and so he would fulfill the last requirent of the training.
Stark twisted the shower knob, cutting off the water, then wrapped a towel around his waist before stepping out of the bathroom.
Shifu was sitting on the floor, watching Chubby with the sa stern expression he always had. It seed he was invested in whatever Chubby was doing.
Jade, on the other hand, was sitting by the window, her feet placed on the chair and her hands wrapped around them.
She was staring out at the city without moving or saying anything. She had been like that since 6 PM, and now it was eight.
He sighed as he watched her.
It had been like this for so ti now. Stark had noticed a change in mood the instant it happened.
First, it was a little change in character. She was no longer as sharp-tongued as she always was, and then she stopped eating the fruit she seed to like so much.
It was becoming clear that sothing was wrong, but anyti he tried to bring it up, she would brush off the topic.
"Jade?" Stark called out, his voice gentle.
There was no answer, not even an outward reaction to show she had heard him.
"Jade?" This ti he spoke a little louder than before, and yet, nothing.
Stark walked up to her and tapped her shoulder, but the mont he did so, she jolted as though she had been pulled out of a trance.
"Hmm?" she murmured, turning to look at him.
Her vibrant eyes were looking duller these days—lifeless, in fact.
It was like the more ti passed, the plainer she beca.
"Are you alright? I called you twice."
She sighed and stood up, then smiled. It was the sa fake smile he had seen countless tis now.
"I’m fine, I just need to go on a walk," she said as she walked past him and left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Stark stood there for a few minutes, then sighed before rushing to his bag.
He hurriedly put on his clothes to catch up with her, then moved to the door. But when he pulled it open, there was soone else on the other side.
The girl had her hand raised, most likely to knock on his door, but the mont she saw him, she froze and smiled nervously.
"Good evening, Stark."
"Jasmine?"
The image Stark had of Jasmine was a bubbly, golden-haired girl who was always laughing and bore a personality as warm as the sun.
But that was not the girl standing in front of him right now.
Jasmine looked tired. Not the type of tiredness that ca from overwork, but the type that ca from ntal exhaustion—the type that ca from worry.
She had not even bothered to organize her hair, and she seed to have put on whatever was available at the mont.
Scratching her cheek, she struggled with her words, avoiding his gaze before she finally looked up.
"Are you up for a date?"
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