Volume 1, Chapter 37 – The Name is Fate

From the reverent gazes of the people around him, it was clear that this man was the leader of the slums. Not only that, his physique was noticeably more robust than the others. Standing before Fia, she had to tilt her head back to see his face—he was at least two meters tall.

Without wasting time, Claire ducked into the tent and asked, “How is the situation?”

“Rather than those infected with the Darkborn disease, Doctor Claire, please take a look at this man first. Last night, he went up the mountain to gather medicinal herbs and was mauled half to death by wild wolves. If we don’t do something soon, he’s done for.”

Following the man’s gesture, Fia saw a person lying motionless on a bed inside the tent. The ground around him was stained red with blood, and a deep gash ran across his abdomen—so severe that his pinkish internal organs were visible. Countless flies crawled over the wound. In addition, half of the man’s scalp was missing, and his arms bore numerous bite marks from wild beasts. Only the faint rise and fall of his chest indicated that he wasn’t completely dead yet.

The entire tent reeked of blood because of him.

Fia couldn’t help but avert her gaze slightly.

It wasn’t fear of the gore but rather a pang of sorrow. In her time, injuries of this severity would have been simple to treat, but in this otherworld where even blood transfusion technology didn’t exist, the man was as good as dead.

“L-Leader, did you bring a doctor?”

Seeing the leader enter with two women, a young woman who had been keeping vigil by the injured man’s side hurried over. Her face was streaked with dust and tears, her reddened eyes and occasional sobs revealing that she had been crying for a long time.

She was likely the injured man’s daughter.

The injured man appeared to be in his forties, while this girl had only just reached adulthood.

The girl glanced at Claire, a flicker of fear crossing her face, before shifting her gaze to Fia. Her tear-filled eyes brimmed with hope and desperation, as if she were on the verge of kneeling and clutching at Fia’s skirt.

“You must be the doctor, right?! I’ve heard that elves are skilled in healing magic! Please, save my father! I—I can work as your maid in return! My father can work for you too! We’ll pay any price, just please save him!”

The girl was clearly distraught, her words slurring in her panic. Her tattered clothes and malnourished complexion spoke volumes about her family’s dire circumstances.

It wasn’t a pleasant sight.

Fia gently reassured her, “We’ll do our best. Please calm down.”

“You’ll only get in the way here. If you want your father to live, stay quiet and get out,” the leader said, pulling the girl aside before lowering his voice to ask Claire, “Claire, is there any hope for him?”

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“How long has he been like this?”

“From the moment we found him until now, three periods of time have already passed.”

“So, in reality, even longer?”

As if ashamed, the leader bowed his head.

“Yes…”

“You know as well as I do that injuries of this magnitude can only be treated with healing magic. I can’t guarantee he’ll survive—I can only try my best. Is that acceptable?”

“Of course. Trying is better than doing nothing. I’ll make arrangements. Everyone except Doctor Claire, out! And take this guy with you!”

“Miss, please, you must save my father! We’ll give you everything we can! Please!”

“Enough. Be quiet and leave.”

Under the leader’s orders, the people in the tent quickly mobilized. The pleading girl was dragged away by the leader, leaving only Claire and Fia inside.

Watching the girl leave, Fia’s expression was complicated.

“Does Claire often encounter situations like this?”

“More or less. But most people choose to send their loved ones to the temple for treatment, only to sell themselves to slave traders to pay the temple’s fees.” After preparing the necessary tools, Claire was about to begin when she suddenly stopped and turned back. “Are you alright with this, Fia?”

She was likely referring to the bloody scene before them.

“This isn’t enough to scare me.”

Fia replied.

She had handled skeletal remains before—a mere injury like this wouldn’t faze her. However, Fia strongly doubted that Claire could save this man. The blood loss was simply too severe. Even if the wound were stitched up, it wouldn’t change the outcome.

Though healing magic existed in this world, it wasn’t omnipotent. Old wounds or injuries too grave couldn’t be mended, even with healing magic.

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Fia’s skepticism made Claire shake her head slightly, her expression filled with resignation.

“I can only do my best and leave the rest to fate. My only shortcoming is that I don’t know healing magic—otherwise, I could have saved him quickly.”

“Mm…”

The word “fate” made Fia freeze.

For some reason, she was acutely sensitive to those two words. Hearing Claire declare that the man couldn’t escape his inevitable death stirred a fierce indignation within her. This feeling wasn’t born solely out of sympathy but rather something deeper, as if she herself had once been toyed with by fate—fighting to change it in the end, only to lose. Thus, whenever she heard the word “fate,” an uncontrollable anger welled up inside her.

If Fia still had her memories, she would have recognized the source of this resentment.

—Heat death. The irreversible increase of entropy, against which she had struggled for billions of years in vain.

“Tch.”

The anger filling her chest made Fia click her tongue. If fate truly existed, then she was its sworn enemy.

She took a step forward, her ruby-like eyes brimming with determination.

“Claire, can I give it a try?”

She didn’t possess Healing Magic, but she did have abilities similar to it—Particle Restoration and Nanomachines, both of which were absolute “magical” healing.

Claire paused in applying the medicine, her beautiful face showing hesitation.

“Are you serious, Fia? This isn’t a game. If you fail, the psychological burden will stay with you forever. The wise choice is to do nothing.”

“I won’t be weighed down by something like this.”

If the man’s death were caused by her unnecessary actions, she would indeed feel guilty. But as things stood, the man was unlikely to survive regardless of what she did. Trying was better than doing nothing—and if she failed, it would merely be another loss against fate.

No. This time, she wouldn’t lose.

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“Alright. But if you fail, little Fia, don’t say it was your doing.”

Ignoring Claire’s words, Fia took her place and looked down at the motionless man, exhaling softly.

I’m sorry to use you as an experiment, but this is the only way to save you.

Steeling herself, Fia held her palm over the man’s abdomen and activated [Particle Restoration] as described in her mind.

True to its name, [Particle Restoration] was a method of repair or reconstruction at the particle level. In Fia’s world, it could even bring the dead back to life—though the energy cost was enormous, making it a luxury only the wealthy could afford.

However, Fia didn’t feel the familiar sensation of magic activating, the connection to something greater.

“Huh?”

She frowned instinctively.

Was her mana insufficient to activate [Particle Restoration]? But even after repeatedly using [Orbital Beacon Bombardment], she hadn’t felt any signs of mana depletion. There was no way she lacked the mana to heal a single person.

She tried again, but the result was the same—nothing happened.

Damn it.

Her frown deepened. After a moment of thought, she realized the problem.

She lacked a sample.

[Particle Restoration] required knowledge of the target’s composition—its structural information—before it could begin repairs. Just as building a house required blueprints, restoring a person required their “data.” Without knowing the makeup of the man before her, [Particle Restoration] was useless.

How could I forget that?

Calming herself, Fia moved on to her next option.

Only Nanomachines remained.

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The nanobots normally flowed through her bloodstream. By giving the man a single drop of her blood, the machines would activate inside him, self-replicating and repairing his body. However, since Fia was their host, once their stored energy was depleted, they would self-destruct inside the man’s body, unable to remain for long.

“If it’s too difficult, I can take over—”

Seeing Fia hesitate, Claire asked softly.

“No, it’s fine.”

Though she didn’t understand the source of her resentment toward fate, Fia refused to concede defeat. She pulled out the silver dagger she had scavenged from the desert hut and pressed the blade against her fingertip, slowly drawing it across.

However, due to her body’s extreme resilience, the dagger failed to break her skin at first. Fia had to apply more force before she finally felt pain. A small cut appeared on her fingertip, and a drop of crimson blood welled up—had the dagger been pure silver, it would have bent or chipped by now.

“Fia, you—”

Ignoring Claire’s shock, Fia extended her hand and let the drop of blood fall into the man’s wound.

Then—

As if adjusting to their new environment, the nanobots remained inactive for a breath.

Then, abruptly, a transformation began.

Like a time-lapse in a documentary, pinkish fibers—akin to budding flesh—rapidly extended from the edges of the wound. The purplish-black bruising dissolved as if absorbed into the tissue, and the man’s waxen complexion quickly regained color. In less than two minutes, the missing sections of his scalp and shoulder had fully regenerated, and the gaping wound across his abdomen had closed, the newly formed skin as tender as a baby’s, starkly contrasting with the surrounding weathered flesh.

Though the man showed no signs of waking, his life was no longer in danger. If this were a game with HP bars, Fia was certain he had recovered at least 80%—his fingers had even twitched during the process.

This time, she had won.

“Is this… healing magic?”

Claire’s voice was laced with disbelief. The “magic” that seemed to accelerate time itself had left her wide-eyed, her beautiful face a picture of astonishment.

“But I didn’t sense even a trace of mana fluctuation. That’s impossible. Little Fia, are you a god—”