Overlord: The Last Player

Nfirea, without much hesitation, seemed very interested in Aron, who was about his age. "I'll need to discuss this with my grandmother. You can follow us for now."

With that, Nfirea turned and quickly ran toward the adventurer guild's entrance.

"Let's go along," said Dosari, the leader of the Rock adventurer party, to his teammates. He then turned to Aron with a cheerful smile. "Shall we?"

Aron nodded slightly.

Dosari walked beside Aron toward the guild's entrance, the other three members following closely behind. Their positions subtly created a formation, as if to shield Aron.

Aron noticed this but said nothing. After all, displaying healing magic had already drawn attention from numerous adventurers in the guild.

Near the guild counter, a brunette receptionist named Daya watched the group leave. Her brown eyes revealed a mix of admiration and a trace of melancholy.

"Amazing... You'd never guess from his appearance that he's a faith-based magic caster. If only my brother…" Daya murmured to herself before returning to her professional demeanor to assist other adventurers.

.......

Outside the guild, an old wooden wagon stood near the entrance. The cart was loaded with various goods, stacked wooden boxes at the bottom and a layer of straw-like dried plants on top. A strong herbal aroma filled the air near the wagon, sharp and almost overwhelming.

At the front of the cart sat an elderly woman with a whip in hand and a light green headscarf. She was Nfirea's grandmother, Lizzie.

Aron and the Rock team saw Nfirea talking animatedly to his grandmother, presumably explaining what had transpired in the guild.

The group waited near the back of the wagon, observing from a respectful distance.

It didn't take long for Nfirea to approach them with a cheerful expression.

"My grandmother agreed, Aron. You can come along," he said enthusiastically. "But she'd like you to demonstrate your healing magic for her first."

"Of course." Aron nodded softly.

Traveling with Nfirea and his well-known grandmother Lizzie seemed far more secure than joining an unfamiliar caravan or adventurer group. After all, Lizzie was a third-tier magic caster!

Aron followed Nfirea to meet Lizzie.

The elderly woman's wrinkled face and graying hair made her look quite old. Her expressionless demeanor and slightly prominent jawbones gave her an intimidating presence.

Yet Aron suspected that someone who had raised a kind-hearted person like Nfirea couldn't be harsh by nature.

"Where are you from? Black hair and dark brown eyes like yours are rare in the kingdom," Lizzie asked, her sharp gaze fixed on Aron.

The question caught Aron off guard. How was he supposed to answer that?

"Never mind, it's not important," Lizzie said, waving her hand dismissively. She pointed at the black horse pulling the wagon. "Heal my horse. Show me your magic."

The horse looked worn out, its age showing in its sagging neck and dull coat. Its hindquarters were nearly bald in some areas, with faint red marks visible on its skin.

"Understood."

Aron raised his hand toward the horse. "Minor Healing."

A soft glow emanated from his palm, enveloping the horse. The red marks on its skin faded away as the healing light restored its injuries.

The horse snorted loudly, tossing its head as if relieved.

Whew… Aron exhaled quietly.

Though he didn't feel fatigued, he could sense that most of his magic power had been depleted.

The first-tier spell "Light Healing" consumed five MP per use. Having already demonstrated the spell earlier in the guild, he had now used it twice. With only 13 MP in total, he was nearly out of magic.

Aron glanced at his status screen. His MP hadn't recovered even a single point since his first casting. The regeneration rate was slower than he had anticipated.

Perhaps it was because he hadn't yet fully transitioned into a magic caster role.

"Hmm," Lizzie muttered, nodding in satisfaction. For the first time, her wrinkled face broke into a smile. "Looks like our trip to E-Rantel will go a bit faster. Let's get moving."

She didn't say anything further to Aron and instead called for Nfirea to join her on the cart. Once Nfirea was seated beside her, she snapped the reins.

The wagon creaked into motion, its wheels rolling over the cobblestone road with a rhythmic clatter.

Aron and the Rock adventurer party trailed behind. They hadn't been invited onto the wagon, but that was hardly a surprise.

Fortunately, the heavily loaded cart couldn't move very quickly.

.......

May 17th, Year 4 of the Imperial Calendar~

It was Aron's second day in this world. He had left the capital.

The Re-Estize Kingdom consisted mostly of flat plains, with coastal regions to the north and west housing large port cities.

The kingdom was predominantly human, with very few demi-humans due to widespread prejudice.

Recently, rumors had been circulating about a war between the southern Slane Theocracy and the elven nation further south. Captured forest elves were reportedly being sold in the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Baharuth Empire at exorbitant prices.

Common elves fetched around 300 gold coins, while those with combat skills could sell for over 1,000. Such elves were treated as living magical tools.

It had been three days since Aron and the others left the capital. He had gleaned this information from conversations with the Rock adventurer party, who seemed eager to build rapport with him.

The journey so far had been uneventful, likely because they were still traveling through the kingdom's heartlands.

In their time together, Aron learned more about his companions. The Rock party members seemed to warm up to him, though they occasionally vented about Lizzie.

"She's treating us like laborers!" Dosari had grumbled more than once.

As for Aron, he had his own tasks. During the daytime, he helped with drying the herbs. In the evenings, he used his healing magic on the horse to soothe its injuries and restore its energy.

Lizzie explained that healing magic not only cured wounds but also replenished a portion of the recipient's stamina.

This discovery intrigued Aron. The effects of skills and spells in this world often differed from their in-game counterparts.

Through repeated use of his magic, Aron also observed his own mana recovery rate: about one point per hour.

It was slower than he had expected, but he attributed this to his current lack of a dedicated magic caster class.