Reborn As Noble Chapter 1503: From Battle to Recovery ( 1503 )

The next day.

Armand Healing Facility.

Marcor stirred slowly, his eyes blinking open to the sight of a white ceiling above him. The soft, rhythmic beeping of a monitoring device filled the quiet room. He tried to sit up, groaning as he pinched the bridge of his nose, his body still aching from the previous battle.

"Finally wake up, huh?"

Marcor turned his head, his vision still slightly blurry, and noticed Garak standing nearby with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"Ugh! Garak. Your voice is hurting my ear."

"What? Oi! My voice isn’t that bad, you know!"

Marcor groaned, rubbing his temples before asking, "Where am I? And how’s the mission?"

"We’re at the Armand Main Healing Facility in Gaze. And the girl is safe and stable, I heard."

"Huh?" Marcor narrowed his eyes at Garak, his brow furrowing. "I thought I’d be at the Armand Military Hospital."

Garak grinned, shaking his head. "Ah, that? Since you were saved by Prince Marcellus and Prince Cedric, you’re not in any danger. Thanks to their healing skills, your wounds were already mostly closed by the time you arrived here. From the report I read, those two princes crushed those weirdos with ease."

Marcor smiled faintly, a determined glint in his eyes as he mumbled. "I still need to train harder... become stronger... so I can become a real Armand Special Operations Unit member."

Garak chuckled, nodding. "Yeah. We both still have a long way to go before we get into the best Armand elite forces."

Marcor shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "The Shadow Unit. The best among the best, directly under Sir Alf."

Garak fell silent for a moment before bursting into laughter, pointing at Marcor. "Your dream’s too big for that! Those under the Shadow Unit aren’t just warriors. They’re counter-intelligence, intelligence, assassins, all that kind of thing. It’s not suitable for you, Marcor."

He nudged Marcor’s shoulder playfully. "Since we’re both elite soldiers, we should aim for the unit under General Hesbeirn instead."

"Ah... right..." Marcor’s eyes lit up with recognition. "The best among the best operation and elite unit. I heard only twenty-one people are in that unit so far, and no one knows who gets selected under General Hesbeirn. They say it’s the strongest unit Armand has."

Garak smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief as he began to tease his best friend. "From the report and visuals I saw before, a certain ’someone’ said..."

He struck a dramatic pose, puffing his chest out and deepening his voice to mimic Marcor.

"’I’m part of General Hesbeirn’s special unit. Trained directly under him. Pushed to the brink every single day until I couldn’t stand. Forged in the kind of hell that would break ordinary soldiers.’"

"Oh, shut up, Garak!" Marcor groaned, his face flushing with embarrassment.

Garak continued, striking a dramatic pose with one hand on his chest and the other raised to the sky, mimicking Marcor’s earlier words with exaggerated flair.

"It would embarrass my general if I lost to creatures like these without putting up a proper fight. So don’t think for a second that I’m done~"

Marcor gritted his teeth, his face still flushed with embarrassment as he hissed at Garak. "Garak! I swear I’m going to punch you if..."

Before he could finish, the door opened and an Armand healer stepped inside, followed by two assistants dressed in clean, white uniforms that resembled elegant, practical maid dresses. The lead healer was a woman with a calm, composed expression, her dark hair tied in a high ponytail. She wore a pristine white doctor’s coat and a pair of glasses, and carried a clipboard in one hand.

She stood in front of the bed, her gaze professional and observant, while the assistants began checking the monitoring devices and adjusting the settings.

"Your condition is stable," she said, her voice calm and clear as she glanced at the clipboard. "We will continue to monitor you for a few more hours before deciding on your discharge or recommending further observation. If everything remains normal, you should be able to return to your quarters by this evening."

Marcor stared at her, his mouth slightly agape, his face still flushed from his earlier embarrassment. "A... ah... ah..."

The healer tilted her head, a gentle smile touching her lips. "Yes? Do you have any questions?"

She noticed the monitoring device beeping slightly faster and glanced at the screen, her brow furrowing in mild confusion. She stepped closer, reaching out to check his pulse manually, her fingers pressing gently against his wrist.

"Your heart rate has increased. Do you feel any discomfort? Any pain anywhere?"

"N... no! I... I’m fine! Just fine!" Marcor blurted, his voice cracking as he tried to pull his hand back.

Garak stood off to the side, covering his mouth with one hand, his shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.

The healer tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly at his reaction. She stepped closer, her voice calm and professional.

"Please remove your top."

"E... eh? What for?" Marcor stammered, his cheeks flushing.

"I need to inspect the healing progress and make sure there’s no internal damage or residual corruption," she explained patiently.

"Ah... okay." Marcor hesitated before sliding his patient top up, revealing his lean, muscular upper body. His skin was marked with faint, fading scars from previous battles, but the wound from the corrupted creature had already closed, leaving only a faint, pinkish line.

The healer activated her skill, her hand glowing with a soft, warm light as she passed it over his torso. She inspected the area carefully, her expression focused before it shifted into one of quiet admiration.

"Amazing... Prince Marcellus and Prince Cedric’s healing skills are truly perfect. The tissue has regenerated flawlessly, with no scarring or residual corruption. It’s even better than what Doctor Myra, Doctor Kalea, and Doctor Julia could achieve."

She paused, her voice carrying a note of genuine admiration. "Not only are they handsome and talented, but their healing abilities are on another level entirely."

Garak’s brow furrowed, his voice curious. "Wow... those three have already reached doctor level? Last time this guy and I were on a mission in the Mathrias region, they were still just healers."

The healer smiled, nodding as she straightened up.

"Yes. They were the first among us to learn directly from Prince Javier. They were also the first three to assist him in performing surgery and the first to master all these tools he invented, the monitoring devices, the IV drips, the surgical instruments, the diagnostic scanners, and the mana-infused medical equipment. They now serve as Royal Doctors of Armand under the Master Healer."

( End Of Chapter )