Accidental Healer-Chapter 36 - Guildians say goodbye to Ulm (Sidestory)

Durkil left the monument behind. The memory of his mother leaving him in a somber mood.

A faint glow ahead draws his attention. Light flickered through the window of a run-down shack casting eerie shadows into the empty streets.

At this hour? Curious, Durkil creeps closer, pressing himself to the wall beside the window. The voices inside were urgent.

“Are we really doing this? A raid at this price is essentially suicide!”

“What choice do we have? We’ve saved for years—this is the only raid even remotely within our reach.”

“We can keep saving! If we wait, we’ll find a better opportunity. What’s the point of throwing our lives away?”

“This isn’t life. I’m not going to die in some mine while others get to fly. I’d rather die out there than rot in here.”

Durkil can barely believe his ears. A raid? His heart clenched. Years ago, after spending day after day in quiet sorrow, Durkils father had left to join a raid.

And he’d been left behind. That was last he had ever seen his father. With no family left Durkil felt alone and in a world he knew he didn’t belong.

He didn’t hesitate.

Durkil shoved open the door. The group inside jumped at the sudden intrusion, chairs scraping against the floor. A few reached for weapons. The room was small and cramped but nicer than most with stone floors rather than dirt.

“Let me join your raid!” Durkil blurted out. His heart was beating fast as he scanned the room.

He nearly tripped over a chair in his rush. All eyes turned to him.

“Durkil?”

The voice came from Jamus, one of the older Guildians. He often worked the same mining camps as Durkil, though they’d never spoken much.

Durkil straightened, now fully aware of all the eyes on him. “I saw the light and I was curious.” he shuffled his hooves looking at the floor. “Please—don’t be angry. I want to join you. I’m young and strong, and I have no family left.”

He reached into his inventory, pulling out a small bag of bronze coins and offering them up.

“You can take these. I don’t care. Just—let me go with you.” Durkil’s tone was desperate. Eyes pleading.

Jamus sighed and waved him off. “Put your coins away, Durkil. We don’t need them.”

Durkil hesitated, looking around at the ten faces in the room. He only recognized Jamus. The rest were strangers.

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A Guildian with sharp features narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think you can just barge in on our meeting?”

“Does it really matter, Ellison?” Jamus countered. “We planned on letting anyone join who wanted out. Durkil just got ahead of the invitation.”

Ellison frowned but said nothing. Then his serious demeanor broke and he chuckled. “True enough.”

Jamus leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. His eyes narrowed. “Actually… Durkil might help us make a decision.”

Durkil straightened. “How?”

Jamus ignored the question, his gaze sweeping over the room.

“Durkil’s father, Tenson. He was part of the last raid Ulm sent out ten years ago.”

A heavy silence filled the room. “Tenson and the others—you all remember—they never returned.”

Jamus looked Durkil in the eye. “I’m surprised, given your family’s history, that you’d be so eager to follow in his footsteps.”

Durkil’s chest tightened. He remembered the day his father left. Even then he had begged to join his father. He didn’t want to be left alone in this wasteland. His father left anyway.

“I have to go,” Tenson had told him. “This world isn’t for me anymore, I’ll find a new one and bring you once I do.”

Durkil had been too young to understand. He hadn’t known why his father had to leave. But now?

Now, it was obvious. This world—Ulm—was a dead end.

“He might not be dead…” Durkil said quietly, but his voice lacked conviction.

Jamus sighed. “He’s dead, Durkil. When a raid fails, the interface closes the objective. If it had succeeded, the objective would still be active.” He paused. “There’s no doubt. They were defeated.”

Durkil swallowed.

Jamus studied him carefully. “Does that change your mind about joining us?”

Durkil liked to pretend that his father was out there somewhere—on some distant world, gaining strength, preparing to return and take him away from Ulm.

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But deep down, he knew that wasn’t the truth.

“My father knew the risks. And so do I.” His voice was steady as he met Ellison’s gaze. “I was born a fighter. So I will fight—if you’ll let me.”

Ellison studied him for a long moment before sighing. “You should understand something, Durkil. Raids this cheap are almost always suicide.”

Durkil clenched his fists.

Ellison continued. “The more you pay, the better the options. We can’t afford a high-quality raid, so this is all we have. The only reason we’re even considering it is because it’s a rare opportunity—a newly integrated world.”

Durkil didn’t care. How could they call this ‘considering’? This was a chance. A new start.

“How many can enter the raid?” Durkil asked.

Ellison exhaled. “Fifty. And since I’ll likely be the raid leader, no one can be above Level 12. If we survive and complete the objectives, we’ll be allowed to bring in more volunteers through the interface.”

The discussion continued, but no one objected to Durkil’s presence anymore. In the end, they voted.

The slot was purchased. And just like that, the announcement went out through the interface. A timer appeared. First fifty names to sign up would go.

Ellison was first.

Durkil's finger hovered over the sign-up prompt. A cold sweat broke out on his back. Was he ready to die? To vanish without a trace, just like his father? His chest tightened. But staying here… that was a slower death.

His name appeared on the list before he realized he’d made his choice.

Eighteen years old, Durkil was considered high-level for his age. Level 12 was an achievement few in Ulm ever reached.

It had taken him four years to get there—years of taking every opportunity to fight when mana monsters spawned. Fights others had avoided, leaving it to the guards.

Most of the other forty-nine in the group were nearly twice his age. If that wasn’t proof that Ulm had nothing left for him, he didn’t know what was.

The next day, the timer hit zero. A portal opened.

The location of the portal had annoyed Durkil. Right in front of the Immortals monument. He looked up at the blue-green sky bidding it goodbye, then spit into the purple bushes one last time.