The chief healer's face flushed, clearly rattled.
"Chief healer, don't let him trick you with fancy words!"
"Exactly! Losing once doesn't matter; we're all behind you!"
Encouraged by the crowd’s support, the chief healer regained his composure.
With a smug smile, he admitted, "Fine, I lost this time. I won't hold back again in the healing contest and practical challenge." His emphasis on "won't hold back" made it sound like his earlier loss was intentional, a little show to save his dignity.
Once again, the crowd erupted in cheers.
"Chief healer, you've got this! You'll crush him!"
"He only won because the chief healer went easy on him! We all know it!"
"Yeah! If you took it seriously, no way that kid could answer right!"
The loud cheers made Matthew frown. He swept an icy gaze over the crowd, and wherever his eyes landed, the piercing chants swiftly died down.
Now seated at opposite tables, Matthew and the chief healer prepared for the next round. The crowd began to settle down and disperse.
“Chief healer, I've been feeling tightness in my chest, and breathing's been tough."
"Chief healer, I keep getting nosebleeds. Could you check my pulse?"
"Chief healer, what do you think...?"
A group gathered eagerly around the chief healer. Meanwhile, only a handful of young men wandered reluctantly toward Matthew's table, clearly unimpressed.
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