The first thing I noticed was the quiet.
Not the peaceful kind. Not the calm-after-the-storm silence.
This was the kind that pressed in on your ears, heavy and watchful, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Miriam was sitting up now, propped against the pillows, a blanket drawn around her shoulders. Color had fully returned to her face. The corruption—every trace of it—was gone. The diagnostic sense hummed faintly at the edge of my awareness, confirming what my eyes already knew.
She was alive.
Properly alive.
Headmistress Valentina Cross stood near the foot of the bed, arms folded, violet eyes sharp as she studied the readings hovering in the air. One by one, the monitoring crystals dimmed, their warnings simply fading away.
"This goes beyond a simple cure," she said at last. "The parasitic matrix didn't just die. It was erased. There's no residual imprint."
Miriam glanced down at her hands, flexing her fingers slowly. "I feel… light," she said. "As if something that's been pressing on me for years vanished all at once."
"You were infected for nearly seven months," Valentina replied. "Even when it was dormant, it was still draining you."
Miriam snorted softly. "That explains the headaches. And the temper."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
Only then did the exhaustion truly hit.
My legs gave out.
I would have collapsed if Valentina hadn't stepped forward and caught me by the arm, her grip surprisingly firm.
"That's enough for now," she said sharply. "Sit."
She guided me into a chair near the bed with more care than I expected. The moment I broke contact with Miriam, the warmth in my palms faded, leaving behind a deep, bone-heavy fatigue.
My hands trembled as I rested them on my knees.
[Stamina: Critical]
[Mana Reserve: Depleted]
[Status: Overexertion]
The system's assessment was blunt. Unhelpful.
Miriam noticed immediately.
"You look worse than I did an hour ago," she said, frowning. "Are you alright?"
"I will be," I said honestly. "Just… drained."
Valentina nodded. "Expected. You forced a first-time full activation against a high-grade corruption. Most healers would have died from the backlash alone."
"That's reassuring," I muttered.
One corner of her mouth twitched.
"I'll have someone bring you restorative tea," she said. "And you are not to attempt another treatment today. That is an order."
I nodded weakly. I didn't think I could have stood up again, even if she hadn't said it.
The door opened. For the first time since the wards had gone up, the outside world spilled back in.
Healers flooded the room.
Or rather, they tried to.
They stopped dead the moment they saw Miriam sitting upright, awake, and very clearly not dying.
"What—?" one of them began.
"It's impossible," another said flatly. "The readings—"
Miriam lifted her head, eyes sharp despite her exhaustion. "It's quite possible," she said. "You're simply not the ones who did it."
The silence that followed was almost painful.
Elder Harwick—the same man who'd sneered at me earlier—stepped forward, his gaze darting between Miriam and the diagnostic crystals.
"The corruption signature is gone," he said slowly. "Completely."
"Yes," Valentina replied. "It is."
"How?" His eyes snapped to me, narrowing. "What did he do?"
Miriam answered before I could.
"He healed me," she said calmly. "Thoroughly. Effectively. And with my full consent."
Harwick's lip curled. "Using that… obscene method?"
Valentina's gaze hardened. "Choose your next words carefully, Elder."
Miriam's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "If you are about to insult the man who saved my life, you may leave."
Harwick stiffened. "Professor Thorne, you don't understand the implications—"
"I understand them perfectly," she snapped, furious. "I understand that I would be dead right now if not for him. I understand that your light magic failed. I understand that you were prepared to let me die rather than accept an unfamiliar method."
The room went deathly quiet.
"And," she continued, each word precise, "I understand that if anyone questions the legitimacy of his healing, they will answer to me."
Harwick's face flushed red. "This is highly irregular."
"Yes," Valentina said smoothly. "So is curing a seven-month-old parasitic corruption in under an hour. Irregularities happen."
The elder opened his mouth, then closed it again.
He turned sharply and stormed out.
Several of the other healers followed, some looking shaken, others thoughtful. A few glanced at me with something dangerously close to awe.
When the room finally cleared, Miriam sagged back against the pillows, the anger draining out of her.
"Apologies," she said tiredly. "I didn't intend to shout."
"You had every right," I said quietly.
She smiled at me—warm, genuine, and entirely unlike the distant professor I remembered from orientation.
"I meant what I said," she added. "About defending you."
Before I could respond, the system chimed again.
[Major Healing Accomplished]
[Experience Gained]
[Skill Unlocked: Diagnostic Touch (Passive)]
[Healing Proficiency Increased]
Information flooded my mind—not intrusive, but clarifying. Sensory overlays sharpened. My awareness of Miriam's condition refined itself automatically, breaking down subtle details I hadn't consciously noticed before.
Valentina watched my expression closely.
"You felt it, didn't you?" she asked.
"Yes," I said slowly. "Something changed."
She nodded. "Your class grows through application. Through results. That was a significant milestone."
Miriam raised an eyebrow. "So I was your first real test case."
I grimaced. "You deserved better than that."
She laughed softly. "Nonsense. I've spent my career experimenting with things that could have killed me. At least this one worked."
There was a knock at the door.
Valentina straightened. "Come in."
A junior aide stepped inside, visibly nervous. "Headmistress… the council has been informed. And the Church has already sent an inquiry."
Of course they had.
Valentina sighed. "That was faster than expected."
"What happens now?" I asked.
"Now?" She looked at me, eyes gleaming with something sharp and calculating. "Now the academy changes its stance."
She turned to the aide. "Prepare an official statement. Professor Miriam Thorne was cured of a lethal magical affliction through a unique healing method under my authorization."
"Yes, Headmistress."
"And inform the council," she continued, "that Theo Ashford is to be designated a restricted medical asset of Rosevale Academy. Effective immediately."
The aide hesitated. "Restricted…?"
"Limited access," Valentina clarified. "Consent documentation. Privacy wards. Oversight by my office alone."
The aide nodded quickly and left.
Miriam frowned. "That sounds ominous."
"It's protection," Valentina replied. "And control. Both are necessary."
I shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "I don't want to be treated like a tool."
Valentina met my gaze evenly. "Then you must become indispensable."
The words settled heavily between us.
"You will have your own clinic," she continued. "Official hours. Controlled access. Anyone who wants your services will go through me."
"And if I refuse a patient?" I asked.
"Then you refuse," she said. "Consent cuts both ways. Anyone who attempts to coerce you will answer to the academy."
Miriam studied her thoughtfully. "You've planned this."
Valentina didn't deny it. "Unique classes attract predators. I prefer to be the largest one in the room."
I wasn't sure whether to be reassured or terrified.
The door opened again. This time, a pair of attendants entered carrying fresh robes, tea, and a small tray of restorative crystals.
"For you," one of them said, placing the tea beside me.
I took a cautious sip. Warmth spread through my chest, easing the worst of the fatigue.
As I drank, the reality of it all began to sink in.
I wasn't expelled.
I wasn't executed.
I had healed someone everyone else had given up on.
And now the entire academy—and the Church—knew my name.
Miriam reached out and squeezed my hand gently.
"You did well today," she said. "No matter what happens next, remember that."
I nodded, throat tight.
Outside the medical wing, voices echoed. Word was spreading. Fast.
Some would be curious.
Some would be hostile.
Some would be desperate.
And soon—very soon—someone would come looking for the Pleasure Healer.