They did not return to the forest.
Ayesha refused.
The moment dawn broke, she led Aron away from the monster paths and toward the remnants of
civilization—crumbling stone roads, abandoned watchtowers, half-burned villages swallowed by moss and
silence.
Places where people had lived.
Places where people had died.
Aron could still feel it.
That hollow pull in his chest.
Every step made it worse, as if the vines that had healed Ayesha were still wrapped around his heart, slowly
tightening. His head throbbed, vision blurring whenever he focused too hard.
"You're pale," Ayesha said without turning. "Tell me what happened back there. Slowly."
Aron hesitated.
Then he told her everything.
The system window. The class. The way the ground had answered him.
He left out only one thing.
How good it had felt.
Ayesha stopped walking.
The silence that followed was heavier than any scream.
"Healer?" she repeated at last.
"Yes."
She turned to face him, eyes sharp, assessing. Not afraid.
Concerned.
"Plant attribute," he added quietly.
Her expression changed.
Not fear.
Recognition.
"Then listen carefully," Ayesha said. "Do not use that power in front of others. Not unless you are prepared
to be hunted."
Aron frowned. "Healers are valuable."
"Not like this."
She knelt in front of him, gripping his shoulders tightly.
"Plant healers don't mend wounds," she said. "They replace them. They grow flesh. That means they need
something to grow from."
Aron swallowed.
"Life," she said.
The system chimed faintly, as if amused.
SYSTEM NOTICE
Warning: Attribute classified as Forbidden Variant in multiple regions
They reached a village by dusk.
Or what remained of one.
Bodies hung from broken fences, dried and twisted. Symbols were carved into doors and walls—warnings,
prayers, curses. The smell of rot lingered thick in the air.
Ayesha's jaw tightened.
"Raiders?" Aron asked.
"No," she replied. "Hunters."
They found one survivor hiding beneath a collapsed roof.
A boy. No older than Aron.
His leg was crushed, bone exposed, infection already creeping up his thigh. He whimpered when they
approached.
"Please," he begged. "I don't want to die."
Ayesha looked at Aron.
Just once.
Aron understood.
His hands shook as he knelt beside the boy. Green light bloomed from his palms. Vines emerged, soft and
living.
The boy screamed.
Not in pain.
In terror.
The vines did not simply wrap the wound.
They drank.
Color drained from the boy's skin as the bone reformed, muscle knitting unnaturally fast. His breathing
grew shallow. His eyes rolled back.
"Stop," Ayesha said.
Aron pulled away.
The healing finished.
The boy lived.
But he looked… smaller.
Hollowed.
SYSTEM LOG
Healing Complete
Vitality Transferred: Significant
The boy fled the moment he could stand.
He did not thank them.
He did not look back.
Ayesha stared at Aron for a long time.
"You see it now," she said quietly.
Aron nodded.
His chest burned.
That night, whispers spread.
They heard them before they saw anyone.
A patrol approached the ruins—armored men bearing holy insignias, weapons gleaming with purification
runes.
Hunters.
Their leader's gaze locked onto Aron instantly.
"That one," he said calmly. "The plant healer."
Ayesha stepped forward, sword half-drawn.
"He's under my protection."
The hunter smiled.
"So was the last one."
The system pulsed once.
SYSTEM STATUS UPDATE
Threat Level: Escalated
For the first time since arriving in this world…
Aron felt something close to fear.
And it was beautiful.