Solo Work Arc: Chapter 38.
The healing campaign on paper was perfect, Winter had to admit. In this world, healing spells are revered. The spellcasters of this world can scarcely reach the pinnacles of true magical mastery. Most spellcasters can only mitigate injuries, increase regeneration speed, dull pain, and close wounds when it comes to support magic.
Now, that's why the healing stunt was perfect. The rarity itself would attract all sorts of people like those who are willing to pay or those who are willing to negotiate some deals. It's a perfect way to earn some quick money or influence.
However, that's all just on paper.
Winter was now feeling the dull lingering ache in his head. Mana was stored in the brain and the body was the conduit. A spellcaster's brain technically never runs out of mana since it's always absorbing. However, overcasting can cause brain damage and brain fog.
Right now, Winter was feeling the latter and to make matters worse. He was in prison along with Felt Mae Puppy.
The affordable healing stunt caused a massive crowd that hindered security operations and market trading. Not only that, a few opportunists also nicked the pockets of several folks and lower nobles.
A guard approached the cell, their footsteps echoing around the quiet and underground prison. The guard then cleared their throat and opened his mouth.
"Winterry Icecream. You are accused of one count of disturbing the peace, one count of an unlicensed healing operation, seven counts of general community complaints, fourteen counts of violating fair market trade, and lastly one count of unregistered charity operations."
Winter listened to the prison guard's announcement with disheveled eyes then turning to Felt whose eyes were riddled with guilt and regret. She was sitting upright and looking down while clutching her leather trousers.
"You have the right to community service if you plead guilty within forty eight hours. The choice is yours." The guard finished, scoffing and rolling his eyes. He then left while mumbling, as if his time was wasted.
◆ [ I've already mapped the prison and I've found the optimal path for escape. The wooden cuffs on your wrists can be easily shattered with sufficient force. ] ◆
Winter ignored Bricks as he sighed and glanced at the damp stone ceiling. He didn't say a word, just regretting why he listened to Felt.
(Wait, now that I think about it. This happened quite a few times in some anime or novels too. This is a perfect time where someone will offer bail in exchange for serving or doing something for them...)
"I am sorry..." Felt said, voice tinged with guilt. Her voice was cracked and unfocused. "I thought this was the best way to earn some money."
Winter sighed, closing his eyes. "It really was until we got arrested." He muttered. "Well, our money was confiscated by the guards so it's probably in some sort of 'safe' now."
Felt didn't say anything else, she just stared at the stone ground.
...
...
...
A day later...
The distant sounds of tw approaching footsteps could be heard. Winter woke up and rubbed his eyes then glancing at the small barred window above.
It was early morning, the sun just rose.
Felt also woke up and scratched her face, there were indentation marks on her face. She was using a small bucket as a makeshift pillow.
"Ahem." A man cleared his throat, catching the attention of Winter. It was a rotund man, dressed in loose noble clothes. He had an expression of uncertainty plastered on his face, it was as if his throat had a dagger pointed on it.
(A noble. Clearly out of place.) Winter thought.
The rotund noble swirled his thumbs as he glanced at the man beside him who wore a cloak. The cloaked man was tall, roughly two meters in height. The man was covered and only his eyes were visible. Those eyes were trained on Winter, glaring with cold intent.
(Somehow, I don't think they're here to offer me anything.)
◆ [ The man in front of you has a concealed weapon and is also intent on killing you. Based on my deep analysis, this is an assassin from the thirteen daggers. ] ◆
The man smiled beneath his mask. "The thirteen daggers sends it regards."
(Sometimes, I wish Bricks was wrong and I was right.) Winter sighed then raised a brow.
"This means, I am free right? I've paid my debts already." The rotund noble said, voice laced with fear while trying not to maintain eye contact.
"Sure, you've paid it alright." The cloaked man replied. "Now get out of here before I change my mind." The cloaked man said as the rotund noble bowed his head and sprinted away in the opposite direction, thanking the man for not killing him.
Winter lazily stared at the fleeing noble.
"Don't worry about that little pig. You worry about yourself." The cloaked man said, looking around the prison. There were other prisoners but it seemed like the life was sapped out of their bodies, they remained still, uncaring about what's happening.
"W-what do you want!?" Felt said, already awake.
"Well, that depends. When it comes to him, I want to kill but when it comes to you." The cloaked man paused, scanning Felt's figure. "Well, maybe I'll have some fun after the main job is finished."
The cloaked man adjusted his robe, revealing a sheathed short sword. The man drew the sword from its sheath slowly, the scrape of steel against metal echoing through the air. The prison door was then unlocked by him, swaying open.
"Any last words or would you like to put up a fight first?" The cloaked man said, giving Winter some semblance of mercy, albeit mockingly.
"Yeah." Winter said, breaking the wooden cuffs by pulling away both his arms. The cloaked man was shocked and he reacted a second too late. Winter buried a punch in the man's stomach, instantly knocking him out. "Always strike first."
Winter then stood up and strained against the wooden cuffs that was locking his feet. It easily shattered from the force. Felt couldn't believe what she was seeing but remained quiet.
Winter then stretched his limbs before sitting back again. "It was self defense and you're my witness Felt. Now, let's wait for the guards to mop this whole mess up." He added, glancing at the collapsed cloaked man whose mouth was foaming.