Chapter 7: Skepticism and WhispersLuma town was abuzz. News of Old Mrs. Gable's miraculous recovery, fueled by whispers of "pleasure massage" administered by young Dray, spread through the vilge like wildfire. The rea redictably, a chaotic mix of awe, disbelief, sdalized curiosity, and ht mockery.

  The younger vilgers, especially those proo aches and pains from farm work, were cautiously intrigued. “Pleasure healing, you say?” young Thomas, the carpenter’s apprentice, asked Kray hesitantly one m, catg him he well. “Does it… really work?” His eyes darted around nervously, as if afraid of being overheard.

  Kray, emboldened by Mrs. Gable’s testimonial and a growing trickle of Love Points from his animal massages, stood a little taller. “It does seem to help with pain and stiffness,” he replied, keeping his tone deliberately vague. He wasn't ready to fully expin the “pleasure” aspect to just anyone, especially not the vilge ds who were more likely to spread ribald jokes than genuine curiosity.

  “And… the pleasure part?” Thomas pressed, his voice dropping to a near whisper, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Is it… really pleasurable?”

  Kray’s cheeks flushed a familiar shade of red. “It’s… rexing,” he mumbled, avoiding direct eye tact. “Very rexing.” He quickly ged the subject, inquiring about Thomas’s carpentry projects, eager to steer the versation away from the potentially sdalous aspects of his healihod.

  The women of Luma, however, were a different story. They were less ed with ribald jokes and more ied in tangible relief. Many suffered from ic aches – from years of arduous housework, farm bor, and childbirth – ailments that dandelion tea and hopeful wishes did little to soothe. They observed Mrs. Gable’s newfound mobility with keen i and whispered amongst themselves in hushed to the market.

  Era, the baker’s daughter, now sp a signifitly less swollen ahanks to Kray’s impromptu, post-fainting massage, became ahusiastic, if somewhat embarrassed, advocate. “Holy,” she fided to a group of women gathered he well, her voice low but fervent, “it was… strange, but it really helped. My ankle felt so much better afterwards. And… well, it did feel… quite nice.” She blushed furiously, avoidiails, but her words sparked a definite ripple of intrigued whispers amongst her listeners.

  Soon, a tentative trickle of female ts started approag Kray. First, it Willow, whose back had beeually knotted since her husband’s passing. Then, Martha, the weaver, pgued by ag wrists from years at the loom. And then, surprisingly, even the bcksmith’s wife, Bertha, known for her stoicism and skepticism, appeared at their farmhouse door, pining of a persistent shoulder stiffness.

  Kray’s kit became a makeshift massage room, filled with the st of his herbal attempts mingling with a new, less tangible aroma – the subtle st of female aies aant hopes mingled with something akin to… anticipatioried to maintain a professional demeanor, fog on the healing aspect, but the i intimaassage, the soft touches, the hushed sighs and murmured thanks of his female ts, stantly reminded him of the perverted uones of his skill.

  Not everyone, however, was swayed by Mrs. Gable’s recovery or the hesitaimonials of Kray’s new ts. The older, more traditional vilgers remained deeply skeptical, muttering about “newfangled nonsense” and “i practices.” And leading the charge of skepticism, with the unwavering vi of tradition, was Elder Maeva, Luma toweemed herbalist.

  Elder Maeva was a woman of formidable presence, her face a roadmap of wriched by years of sun and wisdom, her eyes sharp and dising, her voice deep and resonant. She had been Luma’s healer for decades, dispensing herbal remedies, poultices, and age-old folk wisdom. She viewed Kray’s sudden popurity with thinly veiled disdain, seeing his “pleasure massage” as a frivolous fad, a dangerous departure from time-honored healing practices.

  “Chartanry!” she decred loudly oernoon iown square, addressing a gathering of vilgers. Her voied across the square, sileng the usual midday chatter. “Young Dray’s ‘pleasure healing’ is nothing but quackery! Herbs and time-tested remedies are the true path to healing, not these… these… sensual maniputions he’s peddling!” She spat the word “sensual” with open disgust.

  A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some nodded in agreement, ging to the familiar fort of tradition. Others shifted unfortably, gng towards Kray’s farm in the distance, remembering Mrs. Gable’s improved mobility and their own persistent aches.

  “But Elder Maeva,” young Era dared to pipe up, her voice trembling slightly, “Mrs. Gable is walking without her stiow! And my a healed much faster after Dray’s… massage.”

  Maeva fixed Era with a withering gre that could curdle milk. “ce, child! Or perhaps the power of suggestion! These… pleasure massages… they prey on the weak-minded, fleetiions instead of true healing. Mark my words, this will lead to nothing but trouble, and likely more indecy than actual recovery!”

  Her words hung heavy in the air, fueling the existing whispers and solidifying the “pervert healer” bel that had begun to attach itself to Kray. Many vilgers, swayed by Maeva’s authority and the i sdal of “pleasure healing,” became even more dismissive, reinf their mockery and skepticism.

  Kray, hearing about Maeva’s publiou from a sympathetieighbor, felt a familiar pang of humiliation. But this time, it was tempered with a newfound resolve. He had tasted the tangible effects of his skill, withe relief it brought, and evehe warmth of genuine gratitude from his ts. Elder Maeva’s words, though cutting, felt… less impactful than the jeers of the crowd had once been.

  He wouldn’t let the ivity deter him. He wouldn't let Elder Maeva’s s diminish the hope that was beginning to bloom within him. He had a path nourpose, even if it was unventional, even if it erverted. He would focus on refining his skill, on helping those who sought his unventional healing, and on proving, through as rather than words, the validity of his unique, pleasure-infused path to wellness.

  Ign the whispers, the skepticism, and Elder Maeva’s public disapproval, Kray tio hone his [Pleasure] skill. He practiced on animals, he massaged his mother and sister, and he diligently atteo his growing tele, mostly women at this point, drawn by a mixture of desperation, curiosity, and perhaps, a secret, unspoken desire for a little… pleasure along with their healing. He was, after all, the Pervert Healer of Luma town, and he was just getting started.

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  Name : Kray(18)

  Css : Healer

  Level : 1 (0/10)

  LP (Love Points) : 5+3

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  Skills : [Pleasure : Lvl 1]