The level advancement restored my magical reserves. I'd suspected this would happen though I wasn't certain whether my resources were completely reset or if the level increase simply expanded my maximum capacity with the new portion pre-filled. The jump from first to second tier had felt like nearly doubling my reserves, which was significant. Future advancements would likely provide smaller incremental gains. I also wondered if the potency of my restorative magic would scale with my progression. The poison-healing ability I'd just acquired seemed situationally useless given these reanimated corpses didn't inflict toxins.
While I contemplated my development, two more casualties were deposited before me. Feeling more capable now, I attempted something experimental channeling healing energy toward both simultaneously. Perhaps I could manage multiple targets at once?
No such luck. The magic refused to split, forcing me to treat them sequentially. Group restoration, if such a thing existed, remained locked behind future progression. Between the pair, I expended roughly five castings.
Typically, prolonged combat would erode defensive capabilities as fighters fell. But my continuous treatment kept everyone operational, maintaining our strength throughout the engagement. Eventually, the undead assault petered out entirely. The creatures hadn't attacked as a unified wave but rather in sporadic clusters over an extended period.
Fortune favored us in this. By battle's end, the undead had outnumbered us roughly ten to one. A coordinated assault would have overwhelmed our defenses completely, forcing evacuation. Instead, the staggered arrivals and my healing allowed us to maintain full fighting strength indefinitely. I felt genuinely accomplished. Apparently, I wasn't alone in that assessment.
"Weak Heal..." I channeled the familiar energy one final time, the white radiance having become almost routine.
Dizziness swept over me. Hands caught my arms, steadying me.
"Easy there. You've performed admirably. I must say, I'm quite pleased to encounter my first. What was it? Health Mage?" The speaker led the town's defense force.
He cut an impressive figure bare-chested, heavily muscled, wielding an absurdly oversized blade. The sort of person I'd normally resent on principle, especially given how the female adventurers watched him. Yet he seemed genuinely decent.
"Combat restoration is my specialization," I confirmed, too exhausted for false humility.
He nodded appreciatively. "Most of these fighters would be incapacitated or worse without your intervention. The guild would bear the resurrection costs in that scenario. Considerable expense. As guildmaster, you've saved me substantial resources."
I attempted a smile, unsure how to respond. Beyond learning this man's actual position, I'd also discovered death carried surprisingly little weight here. He'd mentioned earlier that even total annihilation wouldn't be catastrophic; neighboring settlements would dispatch forces to eliminate the undead threat, then clerics would restore the fallen. The recently deceased had a month-long window for restoration, after which survivors would resurrect their lost community members.
Accidental death essentially didn't exist in this world. Only extreme age or particularly virulent curses caused permanent demise. The other path to true death was social dying without anyone willing to fund your restoration. Since I'd completed no official guild documentation, nobody would sponsor my revival if I fell. The isolated, impoverished, and friendless faced genuine mortality here. Rather depressing, actually.
"Unfortunately, since you haven't completed guild registration, I cannot compensate you for your contributions," the guildmaster announced abruptly.
Was he serious?
---
"You're joking," I said before I could filter myself.
The massive man gave an awkward laugh. "What I mean is, you'll receive special compensation."
"Oh..." Why didn't he lead with that?
I wasn't particularly materialistic, but I hadn't spent hours mere meters from shambling corpses, draining myself to the point of collapse, for charity work.
My expression must have amused him. He laughed again, delivering a hearty pat to my back. "We'll calculate contributions tonight. Distribution happens tomorrow at the town assembly. We need to address this incursion and plan our response. Given your significant role in our defense, your attendance is expected."
"Tomorrow," I repeated flatly.
My disappointment must have shown. I'd literally arrived in this world today, completely destitute. The prospect of spending my first night here exposed to the elements in an unfamiliar settlement in an unfamiliar reality wasn't exactly appealing.
"No accommodations arranged?" he observed.
"Are you psychic?" I asked, genuinely startled.
"Nothing so mystical. I had inquiries made. My sources indicate you arrived in town today and haven't secured lodging at the inn."
I grimaced. For someone who looked like pure brawn, he maintained surprisingly extensive intelligence networks. Actually, the fact that he'd already investigated me was somewhat unnerving. Though his information wasn't entirely accurate I'd materialized in the town square itself. Nobody would admit to witnessing that, of course, so the official story made me a traveler rather than an interdimensional transplant.
"Here, this should cover a night's room and meals. We'll deduct it from your compensation." He flipped a coin toward me.
I fumbled the catch completely, the coin disappearing into the dirt.
His laughter followed me as I dropped to the ground, searching. Twilight was falling, making visibility increasingly difficult.
"Graaaah!" A corpse-walker erupted from the pile of bodies directly beside me.
"Move!" The guildmaster's jovial demeanor vanished, hand flying to the weapon on his back.
No time. The creature was already committed, claws positioned to disembowel me in one swipe. Panic narrowed my options to the single spell I'd been casting all day. A wild hypothesis formed if these were undead, then perhaps...
"Weak Heal!"