The Healer’s Way (Book 4): A Portal Progression Fantasy Series

By Oleg Sapphire

This world never fails to surprise me! I take care of one problem only to be confronted by yet another - my unceasing enemies want what is mine. Is it that hard for them to comprehend that I, the Archmagister of Healing, can’t be had so easily? Why, oh why are healers in this world seen as the weakest of the Gifted? It makes no sense to me. In my former world, everybody knew that Healers were to be respected and feared.

Ah, well. It won’t be long before they wish they’d never crossed my path. I grow all the more powerful with each new day as I come to better understand this world, so full of possibilities, and so very fun!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Magic Dome Books
• Release date: Apr 29, 2024
• ISBN: 9788076935235

Book preview

Alexey Kovtunov & Oleg Sapphire

The Healer’s Way

Book 4

A Portal Progression Fantasy Series

Published by Magic Dome Books

The Healer’s Way

Book # 4

Copyright © Alexey Kovtunov, Oleg Sapphire 2024

Cover Art © Linni 2024

Cover Design: Vladimir Manyukhin

English translation copyright © Jennifer E. Sunseri 2024

Published by Magic Dome Books, 2024

All Rights Reserved

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Shop and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is entirely a work of fiction. Any correlation with real people or events is coincidental.

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Table of Contents:

Chapter1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

About The Authors

Chapter1

I COULD BE SITTING in comfort reading books, I mused, shaking my head.

Why did he have to get in my face? Did he have to pick on the new guy? As it was I had to defend myself, respond to his attacks. That’s what led to where we were right now, which was in the basement of the boss’s dilapidated headquarters somewhere in the middle of the Port District. In the very heart of the lion’s den, so to speak. And there were, well, a couple of hundred personnel in the building. And that’s only counting the heavies inside or outside keeping watch. I easily sensed heartbeats at a distance of a hundred meters, and was rather worried about impending events.

I guess I hadn't fully thought through this plan. And yes, there were too many variables to foresee all of the possible ways this could pan out. Ideally, I’d be able to deal with everyone here all on my own, but now that was out of the question. I couldn't justify the risk, meaning it would be a bad idea. But yes, I did have a backup plan! Two backup plans, actually. If absolutely necessary, my guardsmen could come to the rescue. They were all in position to do so. You see, an inconspicuous van was parked not far from here, and in that van was our Combat Suit. Once I issued the command, a shower of bullets and shells would rain down hard on this den of thieves.

Yes, that would be the easy way out, but, then again, why waste employing the very costly-to-operate Combat Suit on these scum? There were other ways, which is why I was now sitting on the carcass of this piggish boss, carrying out a treatment on my vocal cords and... And I waited.

Bzzz...

That’s what I was waiting for — a phone call. Chernomor was supposed to call me as soon as he was outside this place. In fact, I had him call me via the boss’s phone, which I’d already unlocked after changing the password. I also checked out the boss’s contacts. Fortunately, they were all pretty straightforward; for example, the deputy boss was entered in as simply deputy. And as this was the boss’s phone, that meant the deputy was the boss’s deputy.

Hello... I picked up Chernomor’s call, but he didn’t respond. He just snorted into the phone and waited.

I understood why. My voice used to be normal, but right now it was hoarse, guttural, no longer pleasant. I couldn’t perfectly match the boss’s voice, as I had to modify my ligaments rather quickly and it had been awhile. But just the same, I was pleased with the result. Over the phone, none of the boss’s people would notice the difference.

Chernomor, relax. The doors here will open soon, and they’ll be meeting you, and don’t hold back. Also, you don’t have to worry about Victoria, I added.

You’re Mikhail, this I know now. Chernomor sighed with relief. Okay, the gates opened before I even had time to ring the bell, he then chuckled. And two dozen guns are now pointed at us, so yes, I’m worried about Victoria.

I didn’t think through this particular moment. Okay, though. It’s not like they’d open up fire right away. You see, Chernomor and Victoria were using the car I’d stolen from the boss himself. They wouldn't want to shoot it up.

I dialed deputy’s number, and he picked up as soon as it started ringing.

Boss?

Uh-huh... I began. I didn't want to just call him deputy. That would sound funny. And I didn’t know what his name was. My car just pulled up. Get it for me. You know where I am.

Yes, I know! he exclaimed, and I could tell that, in fact, he didn’t know. He’d soon find out, though.

I hung up, and then, some fifteen minutes later I heard steps approaching the door. Of course, I'd locked it.

Don’t come in here! I growled in the boss’s voice when I saw that someone was trying the handle. Let the girl in. You stay out there with the old man.

I should have studied him better, how he talked to his underlings, in particular... I’d had no time for these details, though. My aristocratic lowlife neighbors had been keeping me busy.

I cracked the door open and Victoria came inside. Naturally, she was nervous. She didn't know much about the plan. Now that she saw me, she sighed in relief.

You're going to clue me in on what’s going on here, right? she demanded, hands on hips and glaring now.

Of course. I had no choice but to tell her. It’s not like I had any secrets. In fact, I would have told her long ago, but I myself didn't know how events would transpire, and so couldn’t.

You need to raise this guy. That’s the plan... I said, indicating the boss’s corpse.

I can't raise him, she shook her head. He’s still alive.

No he’s not! I killed him, I protested. Victoria squatted next to the big flabby body and felt the pulse on his neck.

Actually, he’s alive! she whispered hotly. He has a pulse!

Of course he does! Why wouldn't he? Really, it’s not as if that was strange, corpses with heartbeats. Especially since I'd been sitting here for half an hour tending to his body. You see I had big, even grandiose plans for this corpse.

It took me quite awhile to explain what they were to Victoria. I had to tell her why I’d been forcing the boss’s dead body to continue functioning. Right now, it was me who was enabling his heart to keep on ticking. Indeed, he appeared to be breathing. And this was important if he was to speak.

If I was to use the spell for raising the undead on a living person, well... you know what the necrotics would do to me, said Victoria. I just smiled and assured her that everything was going to be just fine.

Then, hunching down by the corpse and placing her hands on his chest, Victoria launched a simple, straightforward spell from the Necromancer’s standard repertoire. A black haze issued from her hands and seeped into his chest, and then, the boss’s eyes opened.

It’s like he’s alive, breathed Victoria, looking her handiwork over.

Yes, well, it’s not just her handiwork, after all. I had a hand in this, as well. I’d put a lot of effort into creating a living zombie. The undead boss had no discolorations from livor mortis, and, in fact, had a natural complexion. And his breathing also belied his zombie status. It took me quite awhile to achieve this, but he should be able to breathe without my feeding him energy. The results were worth it though — they exceeded all expectations.

Well hello there, handsome! So happy to see you, I smiled, looking at this Frankenstein we’d created together. It gladdened my heart to see him take his first steps, and utter his first words.

As Vika got used to controlling this unusually life-like zombie, I provided her with the details of the plan. She looked dubious, but also intrigued, and I could tell she liked my thinking. The upshot was that for the next six hours, which is how long the energy I’d pumped into the boss’s body would last, we could use him to give any orders we wanted to the gang. Of course, we had to be prudent about this, and not go crazy.

In another half hour, Victoria was ready, having mastered the intricacies of controlling the zombie. I gave her a few more tips and she promised that she’d call or text right away if there were any problems.

And then, I opened the door, and both the boss and the countess stepped out into the corridor.

* * *

An hour later

Gang headquarters, meeting room

The room set aside for meetings in the gang’s hideout was just another seemingly unused space. The old building occupied by the gang had once belonged to a rich merchant. They did nothing to improve the dilapidated exterior, as that would draw attention to the place.

Currently the ten heads of the gang's various divisions were all gathered in the meeting room, and were seated at a large table in the middle. At the head of the table sat the zombified boss.

Boss, can you at least say why you called us in? asked one of the division heads. He sat to the right of the boss, and it just so happened that he was actually the boss’s right hand man. And what’s the wench doing here?

The boss’s face was placid, and he looked almost immobile, which wasn't like him at all. In fact, they were all used to him easily flushing, and looking almost apoplectic, with veins bulging from his forehead. Now, though, he looked positively calm, which made the others nervous.

That’s not a wench. That's Countess Bulatova... he said, and exhaled. He then sat still for a couple of seconds, and only then did he inhale. Right. I’m not feeling well. But don't worry. It's nothing much.

The others were astonished at this.

Boss, what’s going on?! While we’re sitting here twiddling our thumbs you cut a dealt with the count? Whoa! exclaimed someone. You’re the king! Yet again you’ve come out on top!

Not quite, the boss shook his head. She and I have reached an agreement. The castle, all the lands and the title go to us, but first we must fulfill our part of the deal.

Wow! Our boss is gonna be a count! And exclamations were heard all around.

This shocking news led to a heated discussion around the table about who would get which lands and villages, and how else to divvy up the loot. This was par for the course, but usually when the division heads started squabbling over riches-to-come the boss would roar at them to shut up already. He’d make it clear that half was for him, and the other half was theirs to share. But this time, he just sat there saying nothing. That is, until they started divvying up the peasant women. Then he expressed his ire. Victoria just couldn’t sit there listening to that kind of talk.

Stop yapping, idiots! he barked, standing up and slamming the table. The room immediately grew quiet, and the twelve men stared at him.

So now what, boss? We’re in the dark here!

Hearing this, the pale-faced boss smiled, and he sat back and began to issue orders.

Remind me, how many fighters do we have right now? he asked, turning to his right hand man.

What are you asking? You’re the one who told me to get together all of the guys from other regions. They’ll be here in a week... he mumbled, staring at the boss in bewilderment. The boss looked blankly at him, and he went on, So we have around seven hundred. More or less.

Good, the boss nodded and seemed to sink into thought. Meanwhile, the countess was glued to the screen of her phone. Not that anyone at the table noticed. They paid her no mind. What she was doing was furiously texting, and after each exchange she issued more orders via the undead boss.

You, he pointed to the one sitting furthest away. Have your forces clear out all of Snegirev’s retail outlets in the Port District. And you... he pointed at another sitting there. You take out Kurchatov’s operations. Burn it all to the ground, and kill anyone who tries to stop you.

But... one of them protested. They... their army is huge...

True. We’ll have the others take care of his army, said the boss. Meanwhile, Victoria was now standing behind him unfolding a map of the area on the table. Here, here and here, he indicated some points. You go there. That’s where Snegirev has some outposts. Eliminate them. You, he pointed to his deputy, your fighters will attack from the north...’

For some time, the boss gave out orders one after another to his subordinates. They sat back and listened to him and did not understand what was the point in any of this, because it sounded like suicide. In fact, someone voiced his reservations at sending their guys out against trained guardsmen. They’d be killed just like that.

Ehh... the boss sighed tiredly. I’ve been doing this now for how long? Right. And have I ever steered you wrong? He waited until the muttering died down, and then again indicated the map. The Bulatov guards will assist. Once you launch an attack, they’ll step in to help. Their Combat Suit will also participate.

He pointed out different places on the map, and now, the smiles on the faces of the gangsters grew ever wider. Understanding now the riches to come from this venture, they all left to get their troops together.

Finally, the last division head left the meeting room, and Victoria, who was perspiring from the stress she’d been under, plopped down in a chair again and closed her eyes. Meanwhile, the boss was frozen. He could do nothing without orders.

Hello... the girl said tiredly into the phone. Well, it all seemed to go fine...I see. I’m heading back downstairs to you.

Again sighing, Victoria stood up, and allowing her puppet to precede her, they went back downstairs to the basement.

* * *

Retail center, City of Arkhangelsk

Two hours later

Do you know who owns this store? If you don’t want problems with Count Kurchatov’s guard, immediately lay down your arms and surrender! the store manager shouted, but no one listened to him.

It had been a tranquil evening with no signs of trouble. Business was brisk, and the manager was already tallying up the daily haul when suddenly five big bruisers burst into the store. After swiftly disabling the store’s security personnel, they fired warning shots into the air as they doused gasoline all over the walls and products.

They also shut the manager up. They slugged him in the mouth, and he momentarily passed out. Realizing that his threats were futile, he simply fled the building. And before long, flames engulfed the building. The goonies from the gang then disappeared into the crowd and moved on to the next establishment. This was a cozy restaurant owned by Count Kurchatov... Not anymore, though. They burned it to the ground, as well, along with an office building also owned by the count.

This was the scene all over the city. All, or almost all, of the count's property was destroyed, spoiled and plundered. But he wasn't the only one targeted. So were the holdings of the Snegirevs -- the gangsters didn't neglect them. The police, meanwhile, could do nothing except allege that the fires were started by unknown mischief makers, and that they’d have to carry out an investigation. However, the gangsters didn't manage to burn everything to the ground. Before long, the count's guards burst onto the scene. Large detachments began to occupy the surviving establishments, and there were even shootouts a couple of times right in the city center.

Meanwhile, trouble was also brewing on the border of the Bulatov and Snegirev lands. Five hundred fighters literally swept away several outposts before diverging in different directions. They were targeting the camps and fortifications established by the viscount on the border of the Bulatov lands. The attacks came as a complete surprise.

Sometimes the Snegirev forces put up a good fight, but they were outnumbered. In one camp, they lacked the manpower in the face of heavy shelling from a cannon. The port gang was notorious for how well-armed their forces were. And right then, they demonstrated their might.

* * *

Field camp of the Snegirev guards

What the hell was that?! yelled the senior officer of the field camp into the radio. He was stationed on the border with the Bulatov lands.

Commander, I don't know! responded a frightened voice issuing from the radio. We’re not the only ones under attack now! So are the other outposts on the border! We don't know who they are, either! It's not the Bulatov guards. We’re monitoring them, and they’re all accounted for!

Damnation! To hell with your intelligence. Signing off now. the officer tossed the radio onto the table and left the tent. He didn’t go far, though — just to the dugout where the commanders of this camp were holed up. Well? Did you unearth who sent these goons to attack us? Where did they come from?

Um, yeah... responded an uncertain voice, Seems that they’re from the gang that runs the Port District, and he shrugged. They got one of them, and he confessed under interrogation.

The port gang?! What the hell?! The senior officer was baffled.

At least they managed to repulse the gang's attack. Fortunately, it just so happened that they'd recently added a large detachment of new men for an upcoming attack on the Bulatovs. Just a coincidence, but lucky for them, they not only were able to push back, they’d suffered virtually no losses.

The wounded had already been loaded into a truck and taken to the infirmary. The higher command had refused requests for reinforcements, citing a lack of available forces. Some had been sent to the city to guard the surviving establishments, while others were trying to recapture outposts that had been seized. In short, chaos reigned in the Snegirev ranks.

Commander! a soldier ran into the dugout, distracting the commander from his depressing thoughts. They’re approaching! Do you want to order a retreat?

Retreat? Have you gone mad? the officer snarled as he jumped up.

He pushed the solder aside as he stalked out of the dugout and went over to the trenches. The remnants of his army stood there, all of them fixated on the road.

And there...They saw at least three hundred troops gathered on the road, along with tanks and other military hardware, and worst of all...

Where did they get that... gasped the commander, seeing a Combat Suit emerge from a truck with a creaking and grinding sound.

Is that a suit from the Gallic Republic? asked a guardsman in horror.Did you know that the ones we manufacture are only four meters tall?

Well, it’s all over now. We're f*cked!

* * *

Meanwhile...

The Snegirev estate

The viscountess woke up in a foul mood. Of course, in the middle of the night she realized she'd neglected to mute her phone. And rather than snarl at the one who'd awakened her, she had to bite her tongue, as it was the commander of her guard calling. He wouldn’t dare call without reason. He informed her that many of their department stores had fallen under attack. Then, a few minutes later he called to say that their restaurants were also under attack.

Well, send our forces there! said the viscountess at the third phone call.

But even after she’ sent her entire army to the city, the commander kept on calling. The viscountess was bathed in cold, sticky sweat as she paced around the room, and didn't even notice the thick, red, woolly coat of hair that had again grown down her spine. Right now she didn't even care. Not when the calls came, one after the other. Even Count Kurchatov, their overlord, called. It turned out that he, too, had come under attack by the enraged Port District gang. But what this was all about was anybody’s guess. He, too, was mystified. In fact, that’s why he’d called.

This went on for several hours. The gangsters demolished roadblocks, fortifications, and they even attacked their military field camps. They razed them to the ground. They'd repulsed the first wave of attacks, but then, in the next round a Gallic Battle Suit had entered the fray. There was no fighting it, and so the camp had fallen. The gangsters had simply run over the camp and then, just like that, they left before reinforcements arrived.

The viscountess paced around her spacious room trying to understand how this had come to be. Most of all she wanted to know why it was that she was the target.

* * *

I wish I’d known about the suit sooner, but not even Georgy could find out much about it. It goes without saying that for most of the gangsters, the Combat Suit came as a surprise. Of course, it’s a worthy possession...What a pity that soon it would be broken into molecules.

Okay, let’s go home, Victoria and I plopped down in the back seat, and Chernomor was tapped to take command of the steering wheel. Naturally, he was full of questions.

So what this is... he began, as we pulled away from the Port District. Are you going to tell me anything?

Let’s get home already, I said and with a slight movement of my hand I opened the mini-bar. I hadn't even realized I had one in the car, having only recently discovered it. Actually, it was one of my men cleaning the car who’d come across it. He opened this mini-bar just as I was passing by. All you had to do was press this button, and there it was!

Vika, too, wasn't up for idle chatter, and so we drove home in complete silence. No doubt all hell was breaking loose at the gang’s hideout.

And no, not even their suit was going to help them. As we made our way through the city, a slew of armored cars with the Kurchatov coat of arms flew toward us. Naturally, the count had to respond to the attacks against him and his vassal. Come the morning, the gang would be no more, except, perhaps, for the few who survived.

But as for the suit, what a shame. From what I’ve learned about these Combat Suits, the Gallic Republic knew a lot about warfare. However, where their tanks were only so-so, and not worth much, their suits, well, they were another matter. They were unlike the ones made by the Russians, and also the ones designed by the Africans.

The Gallic Combat Suits are huge. There’s no quick and easy way to modify them, either. The design reflected the proclivity of the Gauls to favor brute strength over speed and agility. Often, that isn’t a bad approach when it comes to waging battle. I read about how the Romans invaded their territory at one time. The push back was so fierce that even now they were struggling to recover.

I was so lost in thought that before I knew it we were back at the castle. My plan had gone well. Indeed, I could verify just how well it went. I had Kooky and his commandos to tell me what was transpiring in the city. In short, it was a real massacre.

Now back home, I headed up to my study. My plan was to head straight for bed, but no, Victoria followed me up. I'd noticed how nerve-racking this had been for her, and I could only assume she needed to talk. And so I didn't chase her off, and instead asked the servants to bring us some tea. No need for coffee right before bed. Although, yes, technically it was already morning. Light was dawning outside. For some time we just sat and chatted about what happened. Victoria laughed as she recalled her thoughts when I told her she needed to go to the gang’s headquarters. Then she described Chernomor's reaction,