NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 206
The soup was so thin it was hard to tell if it was porridge or just plain broth, but even so, it soaked into their bodies well after the grueling march.
“It’s pretty good.”
Siegfried, not wanting to offend those who had offered it to him, sipped on the thin gruel which, by appearance alone, seemed worse than the portable rations he had carried with him, and muttered.
“Yeah, sorry about that, but the women have worked hard to make it as good as possible.”
It was Yorgos who responded to the comment. Having accompanied Margit as the escort with the swift horses, he had grown remarkably manly over the past few days. His bluish, metallic skin was engraved with multiple war wounds, and the rust-colored scabs were evident. His leather armor was riddled with scars from arrows that had been pulled out.
It was clear without a doubt that he had exposed his body, far tougher than that of others, to the most dangerous places. The sight of the ogre relentlessly fending off climbing corpses with a rain of arrows must have greatly encouraged the people, even if he wasn’t a widely known fellow warrior of his kind.
“Salty, but there’s a sweetness from fat in here. What is this?”
“It’s pig bones. They say that boiling crushed bones produces a good flavor, even if it smells terrible.”
“Hmm… In my hometown, we made soup by boiling cow bones, but I never knew pig bones could taste this good?”
One of the entourage, having seemed satisfied with the taste of the thin broth, nodded deeply as he spoke.
“You’re from one fancy manor if you’re talking about killing and eating cows.”
“Idiot, it’s only a few times a year. When the oxen used for hauling become useless, their meat is distributed, but since it never seems to make it to us common folk, we boil the bones.”
This strongly salted porridge-like dish was prepared with as much salt as possible, despite being a common item even in peacetime. The intention was to replenish the salt lost from the body after strenuous exercise.
“Still, Yorgos, it’s good that you’re alive.”
“Yeah, well, it was tough going… There were some pretty dangerous moments.”
Yorgos handed back his empty bowl of gruel as Siegfried, concerned about the rookies without much combat experience, patted the much taller ogre on the shoulder. Siegfried had been keeping a close eye on them.
Yorgos avoided boasting about his battle achievements, but the fact remained that the numerous scars on his body attested to battles worthy of honor. Over the two intense days of battle, his eyes closed for less than two hours, and seeing the terrain as disadvantageous for his ogre sword, he had utilized borrowed spears and enemy weapons until they were worn out, amounting to over ten.
Even with numerous wounds from slashing and thrusting, the skin infused with steel that he was born with couldn’t be easily pierced, and he kept fighting, relying on his comrades at his back. In this intense battle, he gained a fundamental insight and resignation.
No matter how much he might yearn for it, his desired ogre-style of combat was unattainable.
The sword he’d carried with him on his journey was unable to survive such fierce battles. Before the weapon, Yorgos himself was overpowered by its weight, and he eventually came to realize that in his exhausted state, the locally sourced human-sized weapons were also too cumbersome while fighting.
And within this battle, he also gained an awareness—from the gratitude and commendation of the warriors he shielded.
It dawned on Yorgos that he wanted to be affirmed. That through fighting as a warrior and protecting someone’s back, he wished to be acknowledged—not as an auxiliary to the warriors, nor as a compliant member of the Gigars tribe—but as Yorgos, the man himself.
Yorgos found himself in a much sunnier mood compared to before leaving Mottenheim, all thanks to a question asked by the golden hair: “What do you want to become?”
Siegfried tilted his head curiously at the modest junior who refrained from boasting about his martial prowess.
Generally, new soldiers who have fought through intense battles tend to boast of their own valor, exaggeratedly claiming they cut off a dozen heads or broke gates. Conversely, those who refrain from boasting are rare. Unless they were truly incompetent or exhausted to the point of not wanting to talk, warriors tend to recount their exploits to affirm their worth.
Since Yorgos didn’t appear to hide from danger, based on his scarred body, the latter seemed more likely—but the degree of harshness to which he had been exposed was unimaginable.
However, it was heartening to see him safe, and furthermore, greatly admired by the refugees. Although Yorgos remained modest, he also seemed genuinely pleased.
“You shouldn’t be so humble among the Sword Friends Association. Did you manage to take any helmets? How many ladders did you destroy?”
“Nah, I didn’t do much, really. Rather, how was the estate holding up? Did something happen because we returned without waiting?”
Despite the almost obstinate attitude of Yorgos, Siegfried didn’t take it personally and chose a new topic, deciding not to press for details.
Thereafter, the group exchanged stories about what had happened to each of them. The fortress where they were stationed for reinforcements was besieged, while the fortified estate they left behind faced a second wave of attack from a large number of enemies.
Though both had repelled the attacks, learning that each had faced such dire crises brought both relief and a sense of regret.
It was deeply frustrating not to be able to fight alongside comrades within the same party, no matter how equally perilous their own battles had been.
“Just one thing, Yorgos, you wasted a fine opportunity back there.”
“Hmm?”
“That guy over there…”
“Damn you!”
Just as Korsus’ Caesoo, one of the human escorts chosen by Erich, opened his mouth proudly—having earlier spoken about the broth recalling his hometown—Siegfried forcefully struck the back of his head.
It was a warning not to disclose the leader’s secrets even to fellow insiders when there were other ears around.
“Heh, sorry, Dee boss.”
“It’s Siegfried! Damn… I’ll tell you later.”
“Ah…”
After consuming half the cup of wine that seemed like a gift, Siegfried stood up. It hadn’t been disturbed much, and his face quickly turned red.
“What’s the matter, boss?”
“Yeah, I’m thinking of lending a hand…”
Siegfried headed towards the door that led inside the fortress. Even without a clear object, everyone understood his intent.
Kaya, a member of the Sword Friends Association, was currently tending to the wounded inside the castle. After finishing Margit’s treatment, she voluntarily went to help the injured.
There were many casualties—combatants and refugees alike—due to the attack on the fortress. Even children and women had been mobilized, from carrying boiling water to throwing stones at the enemy, so it was rather the exception to find someone who went entirely uninjured.
Hence, the infirmary in the castle was already overwhelmed with the critically wounded, and even the empty rooms were packed with the injured. Seeing this, Kaya simply couldn’t stay idle.
Moreover, once word reached the deputy that a pharmacist was present, they would undoubtedly have requested assistance, so taking a proactive approach gave a good impression. Feeling it wouldn’t be right to leave a hardworking childhood friend to work alone, Siegfried decided to lend a hand.
On the other hand, the others smiled affectionately, watching their senior depart.
It wasn’t because they were a bother. At this stage, having non-medical personnel descend en masse wouldn’t help much and they recognized the need to preserve capable, ready-to-act forces as adventurers. Additionally, they were aware that their respected senior and his companion formed a somewhat awkward tension.
Watching from the outside, their exchanges felt almost jarring with sugary sweetness, making them oddly uncomfortable. For members of the Sword Friends Association, it wasn’t a positive state. Not simply because Kaya was one of their lifelines.
It was also because they deeply admired both Siegfried and Kaya.
For better or worse, Erich with his golden hair was too much of a commander and mentor. Though caring and affectionate towards his subordinates regardless of their age, his demeanor inspired respect but was difficult to become truly familiar with. Regardless of his desire for more casual interaction, commanding respect and being followed inevitably comes with certain barriers. And, ultimately, it’s challenging to form a friendly bond with someone you perceive as unbeatable.
In contrast, Siegfried was full of cracks. Even if the three in this room strained themselves to the utmost against him, he was unbeatable, and his field command abilities as deputy leader were certainly respectable. But his various human flaws made him approachable.
He wasn’t afraid to joke around, sometimes indulge in off-color humor in certain situations, and occasionally make mistakes and look embarrassed. Even more striking was how, despite sharing an intimate relationship with his partner the pharmacist for so long, he still couldn’t quite shake the dynamic of an awkward childhood romance. Everyone appreciated this.
Even in his elevated status, he exuded an air of equality with them, a quality they found comfortable and appreciable.
“Still, when will that air of celibacy around the boss ever fade?”
Taking out his pipe from his pocket, Primus, another of the escorts chosen by Erich, remarked as they lit the tobacco with fire from the campfire and watched the back of the four-armed youth walk away, casually propping his free hand behind his neck.
“I mean, despite having kids and all, wouldn’t it be nice if he stayed that way?”
“No, seriously, that sounds bad. If they had kids, wouldn’t he gain some gravitas… maybe? Sure, probably, but…?”
Though rude comments from Caesoo and Primus, Yorgos had nothing to add. Realizing he himself still carried the aura of a virgin, he couldn’t argue. At the same time, the image of their amicable deputy leader possessing the poised demeanor of golden-haired Erich seemed equally unimaginable.
The sight of Siegfried holding back countless animated corpses alone on the battlefield until his return as the golden-haired leader could be vividly imagined. But beyond the battlefield, the respected deputy head was, frankly, more a third-rank hero—arguably a second-and-a-half-rank at best, despite their affection for him.
Having known each other for not too long, Yorgos still couldn’t get the image of Siegfried out of his mind—standing, smiling, and skillfully managing things under the benevolent shadow of Kaya, whose presence just seemed right. In fact, Siegfried himself seemed content with this setup too.
“Well, how will it turn out?”
“Nah, it’ll settle where it’s meant to. Can’t imagine Dee boss going too far with Lady Kaya.”
“Exactly, exactly!”
Smiling dryly at the unrelenting banter from the seniors, Yorgos silently acknowledged their sentiments in his heart and apologized inwardly to their beloved deputy leader. He, too, had yet to acquire the necessary “toughness” expected of an adventurer, even after crossing the line of death once.
“Ah, please, don’t cut my legs off… I can’t walk, and my mom…”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Your legs are going to stay intact.”
Even in military fortifications, there would generally be physicians or pharmacists available unless it’s an extremely impoverished region. Moreover, affiliated manors often house monks who could perform healing miracles through donations to the clergy.
Flachburg was no different and, given its potential as one of the few sites likely to see conflict in the current empire, had a well-established medical system in place. There were experienced surgeons, herbalists, and monks from the Night Shadow God capable of performing curative miracles through their blessings. The stockpile of medicine was extensive, with alcohol purifiers set up to produce high-concentration antiseptics.
But even all this was not enough.
Every able-bodied person had been mobilized in the defense, thus the intense battlefield had produced an alarming number of casualties. So much so that even those with minor injuries were left untended.
The treatment room was crammed with the severely wounded. Though it wasn’t a situation where the wounded were literally stacked on top of each other, the smell of blood and pus hung heavily in the air, filled with groans of pain—a scene truly deserving the label of a living hell.
Despite all the medical staff and mobilized women moving tirelessly, supplies like medicine, bandages, and even clean water were in short supply.
Amid such circumstances, Kaya, being both a pharmacist and knowledgeable in battlefield medicine, was invaluable, but consequently found herself allocated to cases that were beyond an amateur’s ability.
“AAAAHHH! GYAAAAAA!!!”
The person she was currently trying to help was a man who had been struck by either an explosive device or a detonation spell. His upper body was relatively spared thanks to his clothing, but his left leg was filled with countless splinters, presenting a ghastly sight.
Medical science in the Threefold Empire of Rain had advanced significantly through anatomical studies led by the Magic Academy and monastic orders, as well as through the unfortunate practices of torture and experimentation. Practices such as indiscriminately draining internal fluids or amputating limbs and cauterizing the wounds, which had been deemed both futile and harmful, had long been abandoned. Instead, limbs were treated by removing debris, washing the wounds, and stitching them closed to keep the area clean and prevent infection, leading to higher survival rates, as widely practiced across the land.
Trying to follow these procedures, Kaya attempted to remove the splinters from the man’s wound, but the man, writhing in pain and loss of blood, rendered her efforts difficult. Ideally, he should be anaesthetized or restrained, but due to limited supplies and space, neither option was feasible. Borrowing strength from nearby male hands was ideal, but everyone was too preoccupied with their own treatments to lend a hand.
Though Kaya’s arms were strengthened from the demanding task of mixing herbs, they couldn’t match the sheer strength of a disoriented man losing control.
“Owaaaah! Mom!”
“Kyaa!?”
Just as the delirious patient’s flailing arm threatened to hit Kaya, a high-pitched sound echoed. It was the sound of skin hitting skin—not the elbow making contact with her soft cheek, but of a hard, well-trained palm intercepting the blow.
“Damn! This place is really short-handed!”
“Dee…”
“It’s Siegfried!”
The one who intervened was Siegfried. He quickly pulled out a clean towel from his waist pouch, skillfully stuffed it into the groaning man’s mouth, and restrained him using both arms and a leg—a technique repurposed from battlefield hand-to-hand combat where the enemy is pinned down and quickly finished with a knife.
“Alright, take care of it quickly while I’m holding him down!”
“…Okay!”
With Siegfried’s assistance, the efficiency of treatment greatly improved. He helped by restraining those writhing in pain, while for those who could maintain consciousness, he held their hands, looked them in the eye to keep them aware, and subdued their reflexive tremors with soothing words.
After several hours of continuous work, they managed to address all the urgent cases.
Kaya, wanting to continue, was gently stopped by other medical personnel. They insisted on rest to prevent any decrease in efficiency and potential mistakes critical to patient safety.
Almost forcibly sent back, the two returned to the courtyard as the sun set. Leaning against the fire that no one had tended, they scooped water from a pot that was left boiling.
“Here, drink.”
“Thank you…”
The black tea, carefully ground into powder for easy consumption while camping, was powdery and required waiting for the clear liquid to rise before sipping. Gradually, their heightened emotions settled as they drank. By the time they had consumed about half, Kaya finally realized she had been working tirelessly without a proper breath.
“Ahhh…?”
“Don’t move.”
What followed unexpectedly was a damp towel moistened with lukewarm water, intended to clean her face. Siegfried, wrinkling his brow as if to say, “What a troublesome one,” gently wiped her face with his rough yet unmistakably masculine hands. The towel quickly turned a dark shade of dried blood, revealing the extent to which it had been neglected.
Working tirelessly without a moment’s pause, Kaya finally let go of her exhaustion, leaning on the shoulder of the companion who had settled beside her.
“To be honest, I’m mad and can’t forgive you for keeping that a secret from me.”
The tone of his voice, however, was calm and gentle, even as he criticized while wringing out dirt from the towel and flipping it over to the clean side.
“But, I understand you felt you couldn’t trust me enough to reveal it, both for you and for him, and also that you had your reasons and were cautioned by him. So, I won’t say anything more about it. Besides, I already laid one on him.”
“…Okay.”
As her face was cleaned, her hands were next gripped and meticulously wiped, each finger polished clean. Clotted blood flakes were removed, and without realizing when they got embedded, splinters and thorns were gently extracted. Bit by bit, Kaya’s refined courtly language, learned after leaving home, reverted to the rough dialect of her childhood village as her guard dropped.
“But from now on, don’t keep secrets from me.”
There was no denial this time to the familiar nickname, “Siegfried,” which had almost become a catchphrase.
“Look, I know to you I might seem unreliable and clumsy, but I am a man, and your… your…”
The childhood friend, earnestly trying to say something important yet struggling with embarrassment, looked up to the sky and blushed furiously as he tried to express himself.
The crimson blush, the wandering eyes, the tangled tongue—all of Siegfried’s now adult-like and bearded face brought back to Kaya memories of the tiny face of the boy who would often dangle snot.
Unable to suppress a small laugh at the awkward boy who was trying so hard to express something inexpressible, Kaya leaned her head in an attempt to stop the words bubbling out of the boy’s mouth. She understood perfectly what the clumsy boy was trying to weave into words. And because she understood him, she chose to follow him.
Even as a child, he was the only boy who never treated her with any kind of bias. Being from a family with some standing within the estate, Kaya occupied a difficult position among the children. While children often don’t understand their parents’ politics, it nonetheless tends to categorize them into bullies or bullied based on the strength of their parents.
Being naturally reserved, Kaya was easily swallowed up by the boisterous country children, drifting into the latter category.
It was the boy who saved her.
Whether it was out of kindness or simply a lack of deep thought, that remains unclear, but through it all, the boy treated her kindly and provided her with a space free from any pretense or pressure.
And so, she followed him, leaving everything behind.
“Dee, I like you.”
“O… Okay.”
The awkward affirmation made the girl close her eyes and smile faintly. Since everyone went out their way to avoid them to give them this small moment of privacy, she felt it deserved to be cherished—just a little more…