Chapter 17: Barbara

The gentle rays of morning sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains, waking Clive from a deep slumber he hadn't experienced in a decade. For a moment, he remained suspended between the world of dreams and reality, his mind processing the softness of the mattress beneath him and the familiar scent of cedarwood wafting from the furniture. He slowly opened his eyes. Instead of the cold stone walls of the Heavenly Temple, his gaze met the high ceiling of his own room, with a faint scratch he had made years ago using a toy sword.

This wasn't a dream.

He was truly home.

A wave of overwhelming relief washed over him—so pure and profound that it almost hurt. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the air of his home.

Knock... knock... knock...

A soft, polite knock at the door interrupted the morning stillness.

"Come in," Clive replied, his voice a little hoarse from sleep.

The door opened, and a middle-aged woman in a neat head chef uniform entered, carrying a tray with warm tea and some biscuits. "Good morning, Young Master," she greeted with a motherly smile.

Clive's eyes were still heavy, his vision a bit blurred. He smiled. "Nelson? Why are you dressed like that? Your suit is much better."

The woman let out a warm, familiar laugh. "It seems you're not fully awake yet, Young Master. Your soul must still be wandering in the realm of dreams."

That laughter snapped Clive into full awareness. He rubbed his eyes, and his vision cleared. The figure before him wasn't Nelson.

It was Barbara Smith, the head chef who always gave him extra cookies when his mother wasn't looking.

"Barbara!" Clive exclaimed.

Without thinking, he jumped from the bed, ignoring the tea and biscuits, and ran straight into her arms. Barbara, surprised, almost dropped the tray. The hug was tight—an embrace of a long-lost child who had found one of the pillars of his home. Clive remembered—whenever he was scolded by his parents as a child, Barbara's kitchen was his refuge. She never scolded him, no matter what.

"Welcome back, Young Master," Barbara whispered, tears welling in her eyes as she returned the hug. "I'm so happy... we're all so happy you're back."

"I'm happy to be home too, Barbara," Clive replied, his voice catching.

As he released her, he studied her face closely. Behind her joyful smile, there was something else. Her face was a bit pale, and faint dark circles lined her eyes. When Clive held her arm, he sensed something wrong. Beneath the warmth of her skin, there was a subtle chill—a sign of life energy waning.

"Are you feeling unwell, Barbara?" Clive asked seriously. "You look pale."

Barbara's smile faltered slightly. "Oh, just a little fatigue, Young Master. I only returned this morning. I took a two-day leave to visit my hometown in Goxin—my health had declined a bit. But when I arrived, Mr. Valdez gave me the best news. The news of your return was the greatest medicine for all of us."

Clive gently shook his head. "This isn't just fatigue." He softly held her hand. "Come with me to the back garden, Barbara."

"What's going on, Young Master?" Barbara asked, puzzled.

"Just come. Please..."

They arrived at the back garden—the same place where he had dueled Nelson the day before. Clive asked Barbara to sit cross-legged on the grass, still wet with morning dew.

"Sit and close your eyes," he instructed gently but firmly. "I'm going to see what illness is affecting you."

Nelson, curious after seeing Clive lead Barbara outside, approached from a distance, watching silently.

Clive stood behind her. He closed his eyes, focused, and directed both palms toward her back, keeping a distance of about three centimeters. A soft, milky white light—like liquid pearl—began to flow from his hands. This was White Tension, a pure energy that resonated with the essence of life to diagnose ailments.

Nelson gasped from afar. White Tension! So it's true… the Young Master possesses more than two Tensions!

The white aura wrapped around Barbara, flowing gently into her, mapping every organ, every cell, every energy current within her body. In Clive's mind, a three-dimensional image of Barbara's internal form appeared. He saw everything. And there, near the pancreas, he saw it—a cluster of dead energy, dark as spilled ink on a white canvas, with grayish roots slowly spreading to surrounding organs.

After a moment, the white aura faded. Clive opened his eyes, filled now with sadness and resolve.

"Barbara…" he said softly, breaking the silence. "There's something eating away at your body from within."

Barbara opened her eyes and gave a faint smile. "Young Master, you must be tired. It's just a bad case of the flu."

Nelson stepped forward. "Young Master, perhaps you're mistaken…"

"In your pancreas," Clive interrupted, his voice calm yet unquestionable. "A mass of dead energy spreading slowly. Doctors call it… cancer."

Barbara and Nelson froze. Their denial shattered into pieces in the face of such precise detail. Tears began to stream down Barbara's cheeks.

"You… you're right, Young Master," she sobbed quietly. "The doctor in Goxin said the same thing. They said… it was too late."

"There is no such thing as 'too late'—as long as there's still life," Clive responded firmly. "Then let's begin. I will heal you now. Please bear with it."

Clive closed his eyes again. This time, a brilliant emerald green aura burst from his body. The air in the garden seemed to come alive. Tiny green lights—like fireflies—rose from every blade of grass, leaf, and flower petal, then flowed toward Clive, absorbed into his body.

"It feels warm… comforting… and soothing…" Barbara whispered as the green aura slowly spread, wrapping her like the warmest blanket in the world. Born without the gift of Tension, witnessing such a miracle was an overwhelming experience.

"Stay calm, Barbara," Clive said, his voice slightly strained with focus. "This is healing you, not hurting you."

The process began. Clive felt as though he were pouring water from his own body into Barbara's empty cup. He could feel his life force draining, his vision beginning to blur. Sweat soaked his temples—not just from concentration, but from the immense expenditure of life energy. The natural energy drawn from the garden helped—it was like a cool drink in the desert—but it wasn't enough to replenish what he was giving.

Twenty minutes passed—each one feeling like forever. With the precision of a master surgeon, Clive directed the Green Tension to wrap around each cancerous cell, purifying it, and turning it back into a healthy cell.

At last, the final cluster of dead energy vanished. The green aura around Barbara slowly dissipated.

In that instant, Clive's strength left him. He collapsed onto the green grass, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath.

"Hah… hah… hah…"

Barbara opened her eyes. She felt something she hadn't felt in months. Her chest felt light. She could breathe deeply without pain. Warmth coursed through her entire body, and the pallor on her face had been replaced with a healthy, rosy glow.

She turned and saw Clive lying weakly. Panicked, she and Nelson rushed to his side.

Amidst his labored breaths, Clive looked at Barbara and gave her a weak yet triumphant smile.

"You're… healed, Barbara."