Accidental Healer

Durkil knew the odds. He knew death was likely. And yet, his feet didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward. The sensation was strange. Like stepping through warm water—and then he was somewhere else.

Ulm was gone. Durkil had expected to step into a battlefield. Instead, he found nothing. No enemies. No frenzied fight for survival.

Just a green world with a bright vibrant blue sky above. There was a calm breeze that felt out of place with the cold tension in Durkils heart.

The entire group stood in stunned silence, weapons gripped tightly.

The landscape bore clear signs of battle. Defensive walls—damaged but standing. Scattered debris from past fights. The lingering scent of blood and death. In the middle of the walls is a small settlement built from the strange trees of this new world.

But as for the defenders?

Gone. Ellison moved first, scanning their surroundings. Durkil approached him. The rest of the Guildians began moving away from the portal cautiously.

“Isn’t this supposed to be a raid?” Durkil asked.

Ellison’s brows furrowed—from what Ellison knew of raids the enemy should’ve been warned and prepared to attack on sight. Were they preparing some type of ambush?

“This is a raid mission…” he murmured. There was no enemy, this really could only mean one thing. “It looks as though we’ve had an incredible stroke of luck. This territory is abandoned.”

A murmur of excitement spread through the group. And then, cheers erupted.

Durkil didn’t celebrate. Something felt off. There must’ve been a reason the previous faction would abandon this territory.

Ellison didn’t cheer either. He took a few steps forward and then scratched the base of his antlers. As the rest of the group was celebrating their good fortune, He was reviewing the system objectives.

His head raised from reviewing his status screen, expression serious, eyes growing wide. Durkil saw the expression and waved his arms to gather the rest of the group. The cheers slowly died and the group began to surround Ellison.

“It seems…” He exhaled. “It seems we aren’t just taking over an abandoned territory.” He turned and scrutinized the abandoned defenses. “We’re now in the middle of our own defensive cycle.”

The group stilled. Celebration twisted into unease. Fear rippled through the crowd in hushed whispers.

The only fighting any of the Guildians had ever seen was the occasional mana spawn. Fighting another organized faction? That was something totally new.

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“What does that mean?” someone asked. Ellison turned back to the Guildians and his gaze swept over them. The portal faded, revealing a world bathed in alien light. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of unfamiliar blossoms. A breeze brushed against Ellison’s face, warm and invigorating.

The heavens light was much brighter and deeper blue then the muted blue green hue of their home in Ulm.

To Ellison, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. No more old decrepit slums. No more working just for scraps. Technically he had never been a slave, not by definition. But just because they weren’t locked in chains didn’t mean they were free. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath.

No chains had bound him, but Ellison had always been a prisoner. Until now. Until this. He looked out over the alien horizon, eyes burning. This was freedom. And he would die before letting anyone take it away.

Gripping his old rusty sword tight he set his shoulders. “We’ll have to defend this territory.” They had entered the portal expecting to die. Ellison did too, he had made his peace with it. Now? Not so much. Hope was a dangerous thing.

“If we survive the raid cycles, this land will officially be ours. No one else's.” The words did little to settle the unease.

Durkil stepped forward. “So the only thing between me and my own life is three measly raids? Seems a small price to pay.”

Durkil had heard stories about factions gaining territories before—but Ulms territory hadn’t changed faction ownership in centuries. Instead they were part of the Devorites galaxy size faction. No one dared change that. He was scared but they had been given a gift.

Ellison smiled at Durkil. His words didn’t immediately chase the fear away but it was a start.

“So let’s get to work and claim what is ours.”

Ellison explained: They would be facing three enemy raids. They would have time to prepare between each one. Each successful defense would allow them to bring more Guildians through the portal to the new world.

The Guldians spent all seven days preparing the best they could. They had no crafters but did the best they could.

And then the first raid came. It was a slaughter. Fifty Guildians entered this world. Only fifteen survived.

Durkil was one of them. The battle had been brutal. If not for the pre-built defenses, they would have been wiped out.

Ellison, Jamus, and a spellcaster named Daevon were among the survivors.

Durkil stood among them, panting, his club slick with blood.

His level had jumped twice. Two levels in a single battle. Back in Ulm, that would have taken years.

When the dust settled, the portal to Ulm reopened. Fifty more Guildians arrived. They were no longer just survivors.

They were growing. The next week they tried to add to the defenses the walls were thicker but crude. Scouts were sent out though they didn’t dare venture far. Edible vegetation was everywhere from berries to leafy green shrubs. All they gathered was thrown into the abandoned shelter.

The second raid came. They fared better. This time, only seventeen were lost.

Durkil wondered about the enemy. The second wave had been even weaker than them. What kind of hell had they come from?

What circumstances had forced them into taking such a desperate raid? Durkil pushed the thoughts away.

Guilt had no place here. It was kill or be killed. He chose to live. The third and final raid arrived.

Durkil stood tall at the end of it. Panting. Bleeding. But alive.

Three weeks ago, he had been Level 12. Now?

Level 16.

Four entire levels. The most growth he had ever experienced. He turned his eyes to the sky—he was already growing to love the dark shade of blue.

As he peered into the heavens he wondered what his father had seen in his raid. Was it alien and beautiful like this world?

Did his father see him? Was he watching from somewhere beyond this world? It didn’t matter.

Durkil had escaped Ulm. He had survived. And for the first time in his life, he had a future.