SSS-Ranked Surgeon In Another World: The Healer Is Actually OP!

Chapter 269: Eiskar Kingdom!

“Why?”

“Because they have mana signature detectors. My mana signature is already registered, so I can teleport directly into Eiskar if I want, but yours isn’t. Teleporting straight inside would only cause unnecessary trouble.”

The Traveler let out a long, exasperated sigh, the sound carrying more weariness than irritation, as though this wasn’t the first time he’d had to explain this, and certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Some places don’t like being arrived in unannounced,” he said finally. “And some doors only open properly if you knock.”

Bruce absorbed that in silence. He didn’t argue, didn’t push back, didn’t question the logic. He simply stood there, eyes steady, letting the meaning settle. There was wisdom in the words, old, lived-in wisdom, and Bruce could feel it, even if he didn’t fully share the Traveler’s instincts yet.

He exhaled slowly. “…Alright.”

Closing his eyes, Bruce reached outward, not with mana, not with force, but with intent alone. It was a familiar act now, one that required no strain, no effort. A quiet assertion of will, precise and deliberate.

’Vaelith. Teleport us to the outer walls of Eiskar.’

The response was instant.

A familiar presence brushed against his awareness, vast and calm, like an ocean acknowledging a ripple, immense, indifferent to scale, yet attentive all the same.

[Ok.]

Vaelith’s voice echoed gently, carrying no hesitation, no question. Only acknowledgment.

The world answered.

The air around them began to shift, space tightening as though unseen hands were drawing the fabric of reality inward. Pressure built without weight, sound dulled, and the world seemed to pause, holding its breath. Mana didn’t surge, it folded. Distance lost meaning as the space between here and elsewhere began to collapse in on itself.

And that, Was when everything changed.

There was no sensation of movement. No tearing of space. No falling, no displacement, no violent assertion of force announcing their arrival. One moment, Bruce and the Traveler stood beneath the familiar sky of Valkrin, surrounded by warmth, mana currents he recognized, and a world that answered him readily. The next, the air settled around them, heavy, cold, and sharp, as though reality itself had quietly decided they belonged somewhere else now.

They stood still. Ahead of them, The gates of Eiskar.

The Kingdom of Eiskar was unlike most other kingdoms in Velmora. It did not sprawl outward through chaotic growth, nor did it rely on natural borders or loosely enforced territorial claims.

Eiskar took its land seriously, almost obsessively so, its philosophy closer to the ancient empires of Earth like Ancient China than a modern mana civilization that trusted flexibility and adaptation. Here, borders were not suggestions. They were lines carved into existence.

Massive walls of black stone stretched endlessly to either side of the gate, vanishing into the frozen distance. The material was not ordinary rock. Mana was woven into it so densely that the walls appeared less constructed and more grown, as though the land itself had been seized, reshaped, and forced into obedience. Tall, seamless, unbroken, they radiated permanence, an oppressive certainty that pressed down on anyone who stood before them.

This wasn’t just a border.

It was a declaration.

Eiskar had been building walls like these since ancient times. And unlike other kingdoms that expanded through conquest, trade, or population spread, Eiskar expanded through containment. Every month, new layers of fortification were erected farther outward, enclosing more territory, reclaiming land inch by inch with cold, methodical precision. Growth here wasn’t explosive. It was controlled.

The walls were not merely for claiming land.

They were survival.

Of all twelve kingdoms of Velmora, Eiskar suffered the most from beast tides. Outside their territory, Unchecked dungeon breakouts poured relentlessly from the frozen north, waves of monsters driven by instinct, mutation, and unstable mana. The attacks followed brutal patterns, cyclical and unforgiving, often arriving monthly like a sentence that could not be appealed. Sometimes the walls held. Sometimes they didn’t.

Entire districts had been erased and rebuilt behind newer layers of fortification over the centuries. Cities within cities. Walls behind walls. The scars of past breaches were etched into Eiskar’s history, its architecture, its people. Survival here wasn’t abstract, it was cultural memory, passed down through stone and blood alike.

Perhaps because of that,

Or perhaps for reasons deeper, older, and less visible,

Eiskar was cautious.

Painfully so.

They accepted visitors from other kingdoms, yes, but “welcome” was not a word that applied here. Anyone who traveled all the way to Eiskar was treated less like a guest and more like an unknown variable, something to be measured, cataloged, and monitored before it was allowed to exist within their borders.

To enter Eiskar, one rule stood above all others.

Mana registration.

Every living being possessed a unique mana signature, distinct as a fingerprint, immutable as a soul-mark. Masking it was nearly impossible under normal circumstances, and tampering with it was considered a fool’s gamble.

Bruce knew this better than most.

He had done the impossible once, overlaying Sophie’s mana signature with his own, not by suppressing or erasing hers, but by harmonizing it beneath his presence, folding her existence into his in a way that defied accepted laws. Even the system, Akashic Codex included, had partially misidentified her during her Mana Ring formation, momentarily treating her as an extension of Bruce himself.

An error that should not have happened. But through his help she achieved the impossible and that error that had allowed her to form nine rings.

Eiskar had been registering mana signatures long before most kingdoms even understood the concept in theory. How they achieved it was unclear. Whether it relied on a unique class, a kingdom-wide skill, ancient artifacts buried beneath the city, or something far older, no one outside truly knew.

What was known,

Was that once your mana signature was recorded within Eiskar’s mana stones, you were never truly unobserved again.

They watched.

Quietly.

Persistently.

Whether that surveillance ended at Eiskar’s borders, or extended outward into other kingdoms, remained unanswered. But with S-rank and SSS-rank existences involved, such reach was not beyond possibility.

Standing before the gate now, Bruce could feel it.

Not hostility.

Not aggression.

Observation.

The Traveler adjusted the brim of his hat slightly, eyes sweeping over the black stone walls with something close to appreciation, and something closer to respect.

“…Still gives me chills,” he muttered. “No wasted space. No weak points. They build like they expect the world to betray them.”

Bruce said nothing.

The walls loomed above them, silent and absolute, their presence heavy enough to press against the soul.

Eiskar didn’t announce itself.

It waited.

And for the first time since arriving,

Bruce understood why the Traveler hadn’t wanted to appear inside.

Some places didn’t like surprises.

And Eiskar?

Eiskar remembered everything.

Meanwhile, In front of the southern gates of Eiskar, two guards stood watch.

Their posture was rigid, their expressions carved from habit more than intent, men who had stood at this post long enough that danger no longer announced itself with fear, only with routine. Cold air clung to their armor, breath misting faintly as their eyes swept the empty stretch of land before the gates.

Which was why, For the briefest instant, They flinched.

There was no flash. No ripple of mana. No distortion of space that their senses could latch onto, no warning at all. One moment, the space before them was empty, barren stone and frozen ground stretching outward in silence.

The next, Two figures stood there.

The guards’ bodies reacted before their minds could catch up. Hands moved on instinct, fingers tightening around spear hafts and sword hilts as mana surged through engraved channels in their armor. Weight shifted, stances lowering, feet sliding into practiced positions meant to absorb impact and respond instantly,

Only for both men to freeze mid-motion as their eyes locked onto a very familiar silhouette.

A wide-brimmed hat. Tilted just so.

The tension drained from them almost immediately, mana settling back into dormancy as though embarrassed by the false alarm.

“…If it isn’t the Traveler,” one of them said, disbelief melting into dry amusement.

The other guard snorted softly, shoulders relaxing as he straightened. “Thought you’d finally fallen off the map.”

The Traveler tipped his hat slightly, a grin already spreading across his face, easy and unapologetic. “Now where would the fun be in that?”

Less than twenty-four hours ago, his mana signature had vanished from Eiskar entirely, cut cleanly, as though the world itself had lost track of him. Had this been their first encounter with him, that alone would have triggered a silent lockdown, alerts rippling through the city’s registry systems.

But Eiskar, and the Traveler, had crossed paths many times before.

The authorities here were long accustomed to his habits, his abilities, and his… tendencies. When his signature disappeared, they had logged it, flagged it for record, and moved on. No panic. No pursuit. Just another anomaly filed under him.

What they hadn’t expected,

Was for him to return so soon.

And definitely not with company.

Their gazes drifted, finally settling on the young man standing beside him. Calm. Composed. Too composed. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were alert, quietly absorbing every detail, the guards, the walls, the mana flow, the weight of the gate itself.

’Interesting.’