Within the medical department were both stufons talented in healing and professors who supervised their work and assigned them various tasks.
A stufon could be officially affiliated with the magic wing, but their primary place of study remained the medical department itself, where they learned healing practices and assisted stufons injured during duels or while practicing various spells.
There was no light element in this world, yet the races had found ways to heal using simple spells while constantly developing new methods.
It was an ordinary day. stufons were checking on patients, discussing various issues with professors, or consulting them regarding difficult cases.
The medical department occupied only a small section of the mage wing, yet even that space was enough to accommodate several hundred patients if something serious were to happen within the academy.
Near the entrance, a light elf sat behind a small desk. She had blue eyes, an elongated face like most elves, and long golden hair cascading over her shoulders.
She wore a white coat that concealed both her figure and the academy emblem. With a bored expression, she stared at the door. Unlike other stufons directly involved in treatment, her duty was to greet visitors, listen to their problems, fill out reports, and direct them to the appropriate professor for further care. The light elf's name was No'im.
Thanks to the enhanced hearing of elves, she could easily overhear patients and stufons discussing treatments, complaining about issues, or asking questions.
Continuing to lazily sweep her gaze across the walls and doors, No'im suddenly caught the sound of hurried footsteps approaching the entrance. From the noise alone, she distinguished at least two beings moving quickly toward the door.
The boredom instantly vanished from her face, replaced by attentive anticipation.
When the door opened, No'im saw two stufons supporting a third between them. His head was lowered, preventing her from seeing his face.
The other two looked out of breath: one was human, the other a dark elf. They approached the desk while continuing to support their unconscious classmate.
"We need help. Our classmate was injured during one of our lessons," the human said in a rushed voice, nervously glancing around the medical department. He was clearly here for the first time and sincerely hoped he would never have to return.
No'im adopted a serious expression and carefully studied the stufons' faces, evaluating the possibility of deception.
Fighting on academy grounds was prohibited, but all sorts of incidents regularly occurred during duels: some misjudged their strength, while others ended up with severe injuries. During her time at the academy, No'im had encountered situations like this many times before.
"And how exactly did this happen?" she asked, staring intently at the stufons before her.
The human let out a heavy sigh and began explaining how, during combat magic class, Professor Ni'lim had ordered them to fight one another while she herself became Trey's opponent. Then, in a confused and hurried manner, he recounted how they watched as the professor first broke Trey's right arm, then his left, and afterward slammed his head against the floor with force.
"So you're saying the professor is responsible for all these injuries?" No'im asked.
She had already heard about Professor Ni'lim's volatile temperament, but until now had never encountered a case where someone suffered injuries this severe after a routine training match with an instructor.
The human and dark elf quickly nodded. No'im could tell they were most likely telling the truth. Or they were exceptional liars—but that would soon be tested regardless. If it turned out the stufons had attempted to deceive them, the punishment could go as far as expulsion.
"Wait here. I'll fetch a professor," No'im said, stepping out from behind the desk and heading deeper into the medical department in search of one of the instructors.
Walking down the corridor, she soon heard the voice of one of the professors and headed in that direction. Reaching a slightly open door, No'im knocked gently.
"Who is it?" asked the professor. Judging by the voice, it was an older man.
No'im quietly sighed. She briefly considered the best way to present what she had heard, but finding no better option, decided to simply repeat everything as it had been explained to her.
"Two stufons arrived. They brought an injured one, and according to them, he was beaten by Professor Ni'lim. Could you please examine this stufon?" No'im explained calmly, still staring at the door. Until the professor permitted her to enter, she had no right to open it herself.
Noise came from inside, and a few minutes later the door opened.
Standing before her was Professor Dale—a middle-aged human of average height, already advanced in years, with a noticeable bald spot and thick stubble. His deep-set eyes carefully examined No'im.
"Take me to them. Let's have a look at these stufons," Professor Dale said, immediately heading toward the entrance where the students remained.
No'im still couldn't get used to this professor's mannerisms, but she had no choice and silently followed after him.
Returning to the stufons, they immediately noticed small drops of blood still dripping from the unconscious student's hand.
"You're saying Professor Ni'lim did all this to him?" Professor Dale asked while inspecting the stufon's arms.
The two stufons exchanged glances. An unpleasant feeling began to settle in—they had the impression the professor doubted their words, and mentally they were already cursing their bad luck: getting stuck here with an unconscious Trey who couldn't confirm a single thing they said.
"That's correct, Professor. We were in combat magic class. Professor Ni'lim told everyone to split into pairs and begin training: one attacks, the other defends. stufon Trey didn't have a partner, so Professor Ni'lim announced that she would be his. And then what you see now happened," the human explained, trying to conceal the irritation in his voice.
Professor Dale nodded as he continued examining the injured student. He had known Professor Ni'lim for a long time and understood perfectly well that something like this was entirely in character for her.
But upon hearing the injured student's name, he immediately raised his head, finally wishing to see the very same half-elf who had managed to stir up so much commotion in the academy in such a short time.
"I recognize Professor Ni'lim's methods. She likes testing strong stufons during the very first lesson," Professor Dale said thoughtfully, confirming the stufons' worst suspicions. Had Trey actually had a partner during that lesson, one of them would have had a truly miserable experience.
After confirming that stufon Trey was seriously injured but not in life-threatening condition, the professor straightened and gestured for the others to follow him.
No'im had no choice but to go after Professor Dale and the two stufons. Until someone told her she was free to leave, she couldn't go anywhere.
"Do you know why Professor Ni'lim broke his arms instead of, say, his legs?" Professor Dale asked, addressing no one in particular as he continued walking down the corridor, glancing at the room numbers on the walls.
The two stufons exchanged looks again, but neither knew the answer.
Professor Dale didn't seem to notice their confusion in the slightest.
"She did it to test how dependent he is on magic. With the first strike, the professor disrupted his concentration, depriving him of the ability to properly react to her movements around the classroom. With the second, she broke his dominant arm—the one he would instinctively use to shield himself. The third strike to the back forced the stufon into making a mistake and stepping backward. And with the fourth—the fracture of his left arm—she completely removed his ability to defend himself," Professor Dale explained his interpretation of the battle, entirely oblivious to how the expressions of the two stufons shifted from disbelief to outright shock.
No'im listened attentively to Professor Dale's words. Had he truly deduced all of that simply by examining the severity of the fractures and the condition of the half-elf's skin? She couldn't help but wonder whether she herself might one day be able to reconstruct a battle so precisely without witnessing it, merely by examining a patient afterward.
"What about the fifth strike? The one where his head hit the floor?" one of the stufons asked.
But the moment he opened his mouth, he immediately caught the irritated looks from both No'im and the human.
Hearing the dark elf's words, Professor Dale stopped so abruptly that the stufons nearly collided with him while carrying unconscious Trey.
"There was a fifth strike?" Professor Dale repeated anxiously. For the first time, genuine concern and apprehension were clearly visible in his eyes.
Both stufons quickly nodded and explained how Trey had fallen onto his back in a half-reclined position, after which Professor Ni'lim approached and leaned over him. At that moment, they had assumed she intended to help him, but what followed had shocked them. Instead of assisting him, the professor placed a hand on his head and forcefully slammed the back of his skull against the floor.
"Was there anything else? Or is that all?" Professor Dale asked.
The calm tone he had maintained earlier during Trey's examination was now completely gone.
The stufons began tensely recalling the events.
The dark elf couldn't forget the moment when someone had suddenly screamed during training, even though Trey should already have been unconscious by then. Then they saw Trey, staggering and clutching a blade that looked as though it might slip from his grasp at any moment, slowly walking toward the professor.
"He also woke up and tried to strike Professor Ni'lim, but she dodged, and after that he lost consciousness again," the dark elf recalled.
At that moment, it had seemed to him as though a walking corpse was moving toward them. There had been no emotion in Trey's eyes—only emptiness.
Professor Dale carefully lifted Trey's head and ran a hand along the back of it, lightly pressing his fingers against the occipital area. Seemingly confirming something, he silently turned and continued walking.
The stufons exchanged glances and followed after him. From the human's look, the dark elf understood that next time, it would be better for him to simply stay silent.
He was forced to admit the human was right. However, dark elves were raised from childhood in absolute obedience and readiness to reveal everything when questioned by someone higher in caste.
Reaching one of the rooms, Professor Dale opened the door and allowed them inside. The passage was designed for only one member of a race at a time, so they had to enter sideways.
Inside, they found a spacious room. By the window stood a bed wide enough to fit two representatives of different races.
To the left of the bed was a small white bedside table, while to the right stood an identical white wardrobe with its door open. Inside hung only a hospital uniform. Slightly closer to the bed was a medium-sized table, with chairs painted the same white color positioned on either side.
"Carefully place him on the bed, and you're free to go. Inform Professor Ni'lim that I'll keep an eye on him," Professor Dale said without turning around as he retrieved pajamas for Trey from the wardrobe.
At first, the stufons visibly brightened upon hearing they could leave, but the moment they realized they would have to return to that monster, the joy instantly vanished from their faces.
Carefully laying Trey onto the bed and bowing to the professor, the stufons quickly left the room.
Only Professor Dale and No'im remained.
No'im had no idea what she was supposed to do now. At one point, it even occurred to her that following them here in the first place had been a mistake, and that Professor Dale had simply forgotten to dismiss her.
"Now then, you need to be changed, stufon Trey," Professor Dale said in a bored tone, turning toward the bed, only then noticing No'im still standing in the room, clearly waiting to be dismissed just like the others.
Realizing he wasn't alone in the room with Trey, Professor Dale blinked and then smiled at No'im.
The moment she saw that smile, it immediately seemed to her that the professor had thought of something. Judging by everything, he really had simply forgotten to release her.
"Good thing you're here, No'im. Here, take these pajamas and change him. He's under your care now until he leaves the medical department. Congratulations," Professor Dale said with a smile, walking over to her.
No'im froze after the professor's very first words. Taking her silence as agreement, he calmly placed the pajamas into her arms and left the room.
No'im shifted her gaze between the pajamas in her hands and unconscious Trey.
Gradually, Professor Dale's words fully sank in. She was alone in a room with stufon Trey.
"Change him... it's simple," No'im quietly repeated to herself as she slowly approached the bed where Trey lay.
Like all light elves, she held a firm belief: seeing another race representative's naked body was improper unless that person was your lifelong partner.
No'im felt her cheeks beginning to burn, her hands trembling traitorously, and her heartbeat growing faster.
She tried to calm herself by reminding herself that this was necessary. Otherwise, stufon Trey might never regain consciousness, or he might wake up only to continue suffering in pain, or worse—his bones might heal incorrectly.
Imagining the latter, No'im involuntarily shuddered.
Pushing aside thoughts of how strange this situation looked—a light elf alone in a room with a half-elf, forced to undress him—she began removing Trey's uniform.
It proved more inconvenient than she expected. Taking off his robe and shirt was difficult because of the fractures: his arms were severely swollen, and whenever No'im touched them, she could feel the heat radiating from them.
Nevertheless, that only strengthened her determination to get rid of the cursed uniform as quickly as possible.
When Trey was left wearing only his undergarments, No'im unconsciously let her gaze linger on his body.
She had seen friends and brothers dressed similarly during summer holidays before, but back then she had felt neither interest nor embarrassment.
Now, everything was different.
Feeling herself beginning to lose control of her emotions again, No'im quickly shifted her gaze back to Trey's swollen, reddened arms, and that helped her focus.
She quickly dressed him in the medical department uniform—a light white robe fastened at the front, bearing the academy crest on the right side of the chest.
After changing Trey, No'im was finally able to calm down a little and carefully assess his condition.
Professor Dale had left her no instructions aside from the fact that Trey was now under her supervision.
Thinking about what exactly to give him, she recalled fracture treatment and retrieved several tablets and a jar of ointment from storage.
Like the Harbinger armor, medical staff uniforms also had a small storage space. It wasn't particularly large, but it was sufficient for carrying essential tools and medicine.
Carefully parting Trey's lips, No'im placed several capsules into his mouth and brought water to his lips.
Hearing him take a few swallows, she made sure the tablets had been swallowed before placing the glass on the bedside table.
Then No'im opened the jar of ointment.
The moment she caught its scent, her beautiful face instantly twisted in disgust.
The ointment was made from various organs of monsters with high regenerative abilities and was used by all races to accelerate the healing of fractures.
Carefully applying the ointment to Trey's arms and beginning to rub it in, No'im tried to breathe as rarely as possible—the smell was that revolting.
As she slowly spread the ointment over his arms, she watched the swelling gradually subside, while his skin began to darken slightly.
Letting out a satisfied breath, No'im headed toward the sink hidden behind a door that was difficult to notice from the entrance.
Opening it with her elbow and stepping inside, she turned on the water and thoroughly washed the remaining ointment from her hands.
Returning to the room, No'im gave Trey one final careful examination. Finding nothing she might have overlooked, she prepared to leave.
After stepping out of the room, No'im switched off the magical lamps, allowing stufon Trey to rest peacefully.
The moment the door closed and the lights went out, the ointment on Trey's arms began to emit a faint glow, absorbing into his skin faster and faster.
Through his sleep, quiet groans could be heard—Trey was unconsciously reacting to the ointment rapidly sinking into flesh and bone, beginning the recovery process.