Chapter 23: The First Lesson

Ghaz leaned back in his chair, watching as Nila slowly picked at her food. She was eating, but cautiously—taking small bites, chewing carefully, as if afraid the meal might disappear if she rushed.

He'd seen it before.

Starvation.

Her body wasn't used to full meals. When you spend your life barely eating, your stomach learns to survive on scraps. Stuffing herself now would only make her sick.

Ghaz exhaled through his nose. "If you can't finish, pack it up for your brother."

Nila's ears twitched. She hesitated, then nodded. Carefully, she wrapped the leftover meat in a cloth napkin, holding it close to her chest like something precious.

"Come on," Ghaz said, pushing back his chair. "We've got things to buy."

He led her outside, into the streets of Brethus

The city was already stirring to life. Merchants set up their stalls, arranging wares with half-awake motions. Adventurers stumbled through the streets, some returning from early morning patrols, others grumbling about the disappointing lack of good quests.

Brethus was a border city, its dungeons few and frequently cleared by the militant forces of the Frex family. Not much work for adventurers.

"Hold my hand," Ghaz muttered.

Nila did as she was told, her small fingers curling into his. She probably didn't need to—she was sharp enough to stay out of trouble. But to Ghaz, she still looked like a child carrying burdens far heavier than she should.

They walked through the streets until they reached a familiar shop.

Tesion's Shop of Grimoires and Artifacts

The moment Ghaz stepped inside, the scent of ink, parchment, and old leather filled his lungs. Shelves lined the walls, stuffed with tomes, scrolls, and magical trinkets. Some of the artifacts pulsed faintly with dormant power, while others sat lifeless—nothing more than overpriced decorations.

Behind the counter, an older elf looked up from his work. Golden hair, half-moon spectacles perched on his nose, and the kind of smugness that only a lifetime of academia could cultivate.

When he saw Ghaz, his lips curled into a smirk.

"Well, if it isn't the literate orc," Tesion greeted. His tone was much friendlier than last time.

"Books, quills, and ink," Ghaz said.

Tesion raised an eyebrow. "Size? Page count? Ink color?"

"Three books. Six by nine inches. Eighty pages each. Three quills. Blue ink."

Tesion nodded, slicing parchment with precise, practiced movements. "Why three sets of writing materials?"

"Got a student."

The elf's smirk deepened. "Is it that girl?" He tilted his head toward Nila. "Try not to scare her off."

Ghaz rolled his eyes, tossing a few coins onto the counter. "Just give me the damn books."

From behind him, Nila stifled a small giggle.

Once the books were packed, they headed toward the slums.

When they reached Nila's home, her younger brother Neuman was curled up on a thin mattress. His breathing was steady, his fever finally gone, but he still looked frail.

Nila knelt beside him, unwrapping the cloth and offering the precious meal.

Neuman's eyes widened. He snatched the meat and took a bite—chewing hungrily, like he was afraid someone might take it away.

Ghaz let them have their moment.

He had other business.

As expected, a small line of slum dwellers had already gathered nearby. Word traveled fast. They knew he had medical knowledge. They knew he helped. And desperation always followed hope.

Ghaz tore pages from one of the new books, using them as makeshift prescription slips.

"You—boil willow bark for that fever."

"Mix honey and crushed ivy root, rub it on the burn."

"If it's still swollen increase the dose by two times."

He worked quickly, efficiently, occasionally pausing to answer questions.

Then, mid-sentence—

Sharp pain.

Something bit his leg.

Ghaz grunted, looking down.

A rat had latched onto his ankle, its filthy teeth sinking into his skin.

His eye twitched.

He kicked his foot, sending the rat flying. It hit the wall with a squeak, then scurried into the shadows.

Ghaz rubbed his temple, staring at the scurrying rat in the shadows.

[NEW QUEST: The Art of Dissection]

Objective: Teach your student how to dissect a mouse.

Bonus: Put it back together.

His jaw tightened. "No."

[Yes.]

"No."

[Yes.]

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am not dissecting a rat."

[You say that, but you have to teach your student about anatomy. Besides, the rat technically attacked you first. Self-defense. Perfectly legal.]

Ghaz exhaled slowly.

[Just think about it, big guy. You get to show off your surgical skills. Impress the kid. Maybe even earn some respect. How often do you get a free cadaver?]

He sighed. Of course.

Nila tilted her head. "Mmm?"

"Wait here."

He turned to a random street kid—a scrappy little boy with dirt-smeared cheeks picking his nose nearby—and pointed. "Oi. Bring that rat back."

The kid blinked. "...What?"

"The rat. Catch it. I'll give you a coin."

The kid immediately sprinted off, disappearing into the filth of the alley. A minute later, he returned, grinning victoriously, holding the struggling rat by its tail.

"Got 'im!"

Ghaz cracked his knuckles. "Good. Now hand it over."

The rat screeched and tried to bite. Ghaz dealt with that problem immediately—a swift karate chop to the skull.

The rodent went limp.

Not dead—just unconscious.

[Well. That's certainly one way to do it.]

Ghaz ignored the system's sarcasm and turned to Nila. "Lesson one: Anatomy."

Nila's tail twitched nervously. "A-Anatomy…?"

Ghaz looked around. He needed a blade, thread, and a needle.

He spotted a group of housewives sitting nearby, peeling vegetables, chatting amongst themselves. One of them—a middle-aged woman with rough hands and a kind face—looked up as Ghaz approached.

"Something wrong, Shaman?" she asked, already setting her knife aside.

"Need a knife, some thread, and a sewing needle."

She didn't even hesitate.

The people of the slums respected him. He'd patched up their children, set their broken bones, treated their sicknesses when no one else would.

"Hold on." She reached into a basket, pulling out a sharp paring knife, a spool of thread, and a needle. "Here."

He took them with a nod. "Appreciate it."

She peered at the unconscious rat in his hand. "Why do you need it,Shaman?"

"Teaching."