33

Medicinal Collection Team

At the camp command post, Commander Heimdall and camp medic Scala sat together. Heimdall's gaze flickered momentarily, clearly observing something in the air with his all-seeing ability.

Scala inquired, "Is the kid out to kill Scrins again?"

Heimdall nodded with a smile, "Seems like he's hunting Scrins Lords. I've seen this behavior several times... His sight is remarkably keen; I suspect it matches mine."

Scala was intrigued, "Did he take down another Skrins Lord?"

"No," Heimdall shook his head. "But Forseti manages to pinpoint Skrins officers hiding within their ranks each time. It won't be long before he gets another shot at a Lord."

Pausing, Heimdall continued, "He's skilled and aware in combat, progressing swiftly. At his age, few can surpass him... If only his physical constitution were stronger, Forseti could become an exceptional warrior."

"Oh, and Forseti seems to possess some form of magic I've never seen before. Any idea what that might be?" Heimdall suddenly turned to Scala.

Scala shook his head, "Not sure. It appears to be light magic, but distinct from any I've encountered."

Heimdall mused, "Light magic? Could it be linked to the Light Elves?"

"Probably not. Recently, I learned Forseti has a cousin who's a prodigy in magic and herbalism. She recently apprenticed under the Duchess of Norn in Nornheim... Forseti's magic might be influenced by her," Scala speculated.

---

*Cough...*

The wounded soldier coughed, instinctively reaching for his neck.

Forseti swiftly intervened with a bandage, cautioning, "Don't move. Your wound's on the neck; it needs to heal properly."

The soldier paused, then lowered his hand weakly, "Thank you..."

"I'm a healer; it's my duty," Forseti replied, tending to the soldier's injuries.

"You're from the Vanir or Aesir ?" Forseti discerned from the soldier's accent.

The soldier nodded, "Yes, I'm Aesir."

Known for their resilience, the Aesir quickly regained their strength with the aid of healing stones and bandages. Wayne stood up immediately, muttering, "Damn Skrins!"

Despite Forseti's counsel, Wayne seized his weapon and returned to the fray.

Forseti sighed and resumed patrolling the defense line, hoping to encounter another elite Skrins meeting his criteria.

Luck, however, wasn't on his side. The battle concluded swiftly, prompting Forseti to return to his quarters.

He checked his rewards.

Activating the Holy Deed, Forseti received his reward.

**Acquired: Spatial Grid Standard**

Forseti's eyes gleamed; finally, a valuable find.

For the past six months, he'd purchased five Fate Gifts daily from the Devotion Store, accumulating nearly a thousand. Yet, acquiring a Spatial Grid was challenging; he'd only obtained a few so far, insufficient for Verrigan's Fist.

With another grid now, Forseti estimated he might soon store Verrigan's Fist. Retrieving the warhammer, he attempted to store it.

Verrigan's Fist submerged into the Holy Deed, imprinting itself onto the page.

Storage successful!

Forseti grinned; no longer needing to carry the hammer daily would be a relief, despite its manageable weight.

Turning to the next page of the Holy Book.

As before, aside from Holy Light Strike, the second layer's spells remained locked in gray: **Judgment**, **Sword of Justice**, **Divine Protection**, **Hand of Reckoning**, **Give Faith**, and **The Light of the Martyrs**—six in total.

For unlocked spells, Forseti could only access spell fragments once via Fate Gift.

To unlock and learn these spells required completing ten sin punishments.

Having dispatched three Skrins elites, one Skrins Lord, and a prior thief, Forseti had completed five of these sanctions; five more remained.

Holy Light Strike's learning cost equaled one rune coin. The second layer's six spells wouldn't demand much coinage in total.

---

*A few days later.*

Post-breakfast, Forseti returned to his room, accessing the Sanctuary to enter the Graf Swift Teeth experience space.

Forseti could have defeated Graf Swifttooth earlier; however, Graf, Uncle Hogg's younger brother, proved a formidable opponent—far superior to wild boars, kobolds, or Gold City infantry. Forseti intentionally refrained from victory, using Graf to sharpen his combat skills repeatedly.

"Graf, I'm back."

Entering the experience space, Forseti announced his presence.

Unfazed, Graf Swifttooth charged, bellowing in gnoll tongue, "Ahhh... fresh meat!"

Forseti wielded his warhammer, engaging in a prolonged battle until both combatants were winded and injured before exiting the experience space.

*Phew...*

Returning to reality, Forseti exhaled deeply, wiping sweat from his brow.

The experience space was so immersive; each high-intensity battle left Forseti genuinely perspiring.

*Knock, knock.*

A knock interrupted his thoughts.

Opening the door revealed Sigurd once more.

Since Forseti's Lord Skrins kill, Sigurd had been a constant companion despite Forseti being several years his junior.

"Lord Scala sent for us."

This time, it was business. Accompanied by Sigurd, Forseti joined the camp medic, Scala, and several doctors.

Scala addressed them with a nod, "Good, everyone's here."

Clearing his throat, Scala announced slowly, "Yesterday, our scouts discovered a herb colony deep in the forest—a trove of rare herbs... After consulting with the commander, I've decided to assemble a medicinal collection team comprising two fighter squads and one healer squad."

"You all are our tentative medical team."

He paused, adding gravely, "The collection site's deep in the forest, prone to Skrins attacks. If anyone's unwilling to join, speak now."

The doctors exchanged glances but remained silent.

Scala reiterated, "This isn't a jest; while the Skrins couldn't breach our camp, they could easily wipe out a herbalist."

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