Chapter 452 — Helena Crane
7 min read ·
[Northern Military Training Center - Medical Facility]
Damian lay unconscious on the reinforced bed, white bandages wrapped around his right arm and left leg where the limbs had been reattached.
His chest rose and fell with steady rhythm, tubes and monitoring equipment humming quietly around him.
A short-haired middle-aged woman leaned over his bed, holding a camera in one hand while positioning herself for the perfect angle.
Click
She checked the photo, her face lighting up with satisfaction.
’Mini is going to be so jealous when I show her these!’
Her daughter had posters of Damian Valcor covering her bedroom walls, news clippings about the Tranquil City attack carefully preserved in a scrapbook.
’Her idol is right here! And I’m the one treating him... Now he is even the youngest A rank in Federation history!’
She giggled quietly, angling for another shot.
Click
’Just one more–’
As she was immersed in her thoughts, suddenly Damian’s eyes opened and their gazes met.
"..."
Nobody moved for several seconds.
The woman’s smile froze on her face, camera still raised, her body bent awkwardly over his bed.
Damian stared at her and she stared back.
The medical equipment continued beeping, filling the silence.
"Let me explain–"
Damian sat up abruptly, his eyes tracking around the room.
"Where am I?... How long have I been unconscious?"
His gaze dropped to the bandages covering his arm and leg, then back to the woman’s face.
The woman straightened quickly, lowering the camera.
"You’re in the medical facility at the Northern Military Training Center. Only a few hours have passed since you completed the survival test."
She glanced at the window where darkness pressed against the glass.
"It’s night now, around nine o’clock."
Damian’s hands moved to the bandages, fingers testing the edges.
The woman’s professional demeanor cracked immediately, words spilling out in a rush.
"I can’t believe you’re actually here! When they brought you in, I thought I was hallucinating because the rumors about you joining the military seemed impossible, but then there you were with your arm and leg completely shattered and I’ve been treating you for hours and–"
She paused to breathe.
"–and I never thought I’d actually get to meet you in person! My daughter has your picture everywhere, she talks about you constantly, she even wrote an essay about how you saved those students in the ACC portal incident for her school assignment–"
Damian looked at her.
’Who is this woman?’
His expression must have shown his confusion because she stopped mid-sentence, her hand flying to her mouth.
"Oh! I forgot to introduce myself properly."
She straightened, attempting something resembling professional composure.
"I’m one of the candidates recruited by the military. My name is Helena Crane."
She gestured at herself, then at him.
"The military wanted to recruit a strong healer for this batch as well, but the heir of the Evergreen Imperial Family refused to come here."
Her smile became slightly sheepish.
"So I was the only alternative they could find... A+ rank healer with decent combat capabilities."
She paused.
"I’ve been looking after you while you were unconscious. Making sure the reattachment process went smoothly–"
"Thank you for the treatment."
Damian’s voice cut through her explanation, sincere despite being brief.
Helena’s face lit up even more.
’A healer who passed the survival test?’
Damian’s eyes tracked over her more carefully, noting details he’d missed in the initial confusion.
Her stats were visible to his perception, and they sat at the threshold of what A+ rank allowed.
Strength, speed and stamina all pushed to their limits.
’She’s not just a healer... She’s built herself into a proper combatant.’
Whoosh
Suddenly, Helena reached into her spatial ring, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen.
She held them out toward Damian, her expression somewhere between hopeful and embarrassed.
"Can you please give me your autograph? It’s for my daughter."
Her smile widened.
"She really loves you... You’re her hero."
Damian took the paper and pen, but his hand stopped before touching the surface.
"I’m no hero."
The whisper came out barely audible.
Helena tilted her head, studying his face.
Her smile didn’t fade, but something in her eyes shifted.
"..."
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then she shrugged, the movement casual.
"Hero or not, that’s something for the masses to decide, isn’t it? You don’t get to choose how others see you."
Her tone stayed light.
"Don’t be so serious and gloomy about it. You’re seventeen years old, not seventy. Just sign the paper for a little girl who thinks you’re amazing."
Damian paused, his crimson eyes meeting her brown ones.
Then he sighed and pressed pen to paper, his signature forming in quick strokes.
He handed it back, changing the subject.
"What’s the training curriculum like here?"
Helena tucked the autograph carefully into her spatial ring, her face brightening again.
"Training hasn’t actually started yet. Everyone just finished arriving before you showed up, so I have zero clue what they’re planning."
She glanced at the door.
"Come to think of it, right now the general has called everyone to a building called the Mind Tower. I have to head there as well."
She moved toward the exit, then looked back.
"You should rest though... Your injuries need time to–"
Damian stood up, his feet hitting the floor without hesitation.
"Take me with you."
Helena’s eyes widened.
"You shouldn’t be walking! The reattachment is complete, but you need to let everything heal naturally. Moving around too much will make the injuries worse."
Damian’s Aura began circulating, flowing through his body in specific patterns as Self-Healing activated.
The energy concentrated on his regenerated limbs, accelerating the final stages of recovery.
"Don’t worry about it... I have a self-healing skill."
Helena opened her mouth, then closed it.
Her professional instincts as a healer kicked in, sensing the Aura working through his system.
Her expression shifted to shock.
"What kind of skill is that? The pattern is completely different from any healing skill I’ve seen or used before."
Damian walked past her toward the door, his movements showing no sign of the catastrophic injuries he’d sustained hours ago.
"A self-healing skill I created."
Helena stood frozen for a moment, processing that statement.
’He’s creating skills at such a young age? And a healing skill at that?’
Her eyes tracked his retreating back.
’Isn’t he supposed to be a fighter? Why would he spend time developing healing skills?’
She hurried to catch up, falling into step beside him as they moved through the medical facility corridors.
Then something occurred to her, and she glanced at him sideways.
"By the way, who is Luna?"
Damian’s steps faltered.
"Huh?"
"You kept muttering her name while you were unconscious. Over and over, like you were worried about her."
Helena’s tone carried curiosity.
Damian’s mind pulled him backward against his will.
’I wonder if she read the note yet.’
The memory of standing in Luna’s dormitory room surfaced, watching her sleep peacefully.
’I should have told her face to face... Should have explained everything properly instead of leaving a note...’
But when he’d been standing there beside her bed, watching her breathe, he’d found himself unable to wake her.
Unable to see the look on her face when he told her he was leaving.
So he’d written the note and disappeared like a thief in the night.
Helena nudged him with her elbow, her expression turning teasing.
"Come on, tell me! Is she your girlfriend? Your sister? A childhood friend you’re secretly in love with?"
Her voice took on a playful sing-song quality.
"Tell me, tell me, please!"
Damian’s eye twitched.
’This woman...’
He let out a long breath.
"She’s someone... important."
The words came out flat, offering nothing.
Helena’s grin widened, but she didn’t push further.
They walked in silence for a few more seconds before she started humming quietly, clearly pleased with herself.
Damian pretended not to notice.