MHHC Chapter 122

Witch

"This way."

The place Klaus led them to was a makeshift tent hastily constructed by layering scraps of cloth.

She could sense the dim firelight seeping between the thick fabric first, then the groaning sounds, then the metallic scent of blood.

As they approached the tent, the knights gathered in small clusters near the entrance flinched when they saw them.

"……."

The atmosphere wasn't merely unfriendly—it bordered on hostile.

Even knights who'd maintained a distant courtesy out of deference to Valentin now openly displayed their displeasure in his absence.

Unlike the lower-ranking soldiers who'd been receptive to healing magic, the higher-ranking knights were dominated by the belief that such power was mere superstition.

'They never believed the healing magic was real in the first place.'

All they knew was that the Grand Duchess had used "peculiar sorcery" to save Margaret from death, and that power was suspected to come from monsters.

She'd known that once a stigma was branded, it wasn't easily erased—and that the knightly order wouldn't accept it readily—but…….

'Still, I didn't expect them to show such blatant rejection.'

Adelheid calmly absorbed the hostile stares pouring toward her.

In the past, such looks would have wounded her. Now she remained composed. Perhaps because her mindset had changed.

Now she was beginning to believe, just a little, that even someone like her had a reason to be born into this world. That she could be someone capable of helping others……

'Adelheid.'

To ease the tension that surged out of habit, Adelheid recalled Valentin's breath at her ear.

How tenderly he regarded her. How precious she was to him……

Without elaborate explanation, sometimes a single breath overwhelmed everything else.

'So it's all right.'

She clenched her fists, steeling her resolve for the countless time, and saw a knight from the younger contingent shuffle nervously forward.

"Your Grace. What brings you here?"

"She's graciously come to examine Sir Ian's wound herself. We're in a hurry, so step aside."

Before Adelheid could part her lips, Klaus cut in with clipped words. The air around him radiated an unwillingness to waste time on pointless argument.

Adelheid was surprised by this high-handed manner she'd never seen from him before, but the young knight scratched the back of his head with an unbothered expression.

"Of course we're grateful for the offer of help. But the situation isn't good right now……."

He glanced around briefly, then lowered his voice to continue.

"The patient is extremely terrified. If you don't mind, perhaps you could come back later?"

"If the situation isn't good, isn't that all the more reason I should see him?"

At Adelheid's response, the knight's gaze slid away slightly.

Though he tried to maintain an impassive expression, Adelheid could easily read that he was clearly uncomfortable.

The knight glanced once at Klaus, once at his comrades behind him with a look pleading for rescue, then sighed deeply as though resigned.

He disheveled his hair by running his hand through it roughly.

"It's just, well, you see."

Before she could ask what situation could possibly be so dire, a loud shout erupted from inside the tent.

"You're saying…… right now……. That you'll hand me over to a witch for treatment!"

All three of their faces froze simultaneously at those words. The sound of something crashing followed. The knight cleared his throat awkwardly several times, then added carefully:

"……I hope you won't impose too severe a punishment. Sir Ian lost his father to monsters last year, so he has some unwarranted wariness."

"……."

"Besides, the fact that he's refusing treatment proves the wound isn't that serious, doesn't it? He must still find it bearable."

The young knight dropped his shoulders as though he too found this difficult. Klaus seemed at a loss for words, swallowing empty air as his face flushed red, and he bowed his head repeatedly.

"I apologize, Your Grace. He's been under my command for a long time, and I let my feelings get ahead of me……."

"You don't need to apologize to me. It's not your fault."

"I explained it to him clearly enough—I had no idea he'd still be acting like this. This is entirely my oversight……."

He kept apologizing, but truthfully she wasn't particularly offended.

Perhaps because she'd steeled herself from the start? Rather, she found Klaus's uncharacteristically serious expression somewhat unfamiliar.

Klaus twisted his face and barely managed to continue.

"If I'd been more thorough with the patrol perimeter in the first place, this wouldn't have happened at all. This is entirely my fault."

Seeing him take on more responsibility than she'd expected made Adelheid's heart ache for him.

Just as she was about to offer some words of comfort, the tent entrance stirred and a servant who looked utterly exhausted emerged.

The servant held an armful of filthy cloth stained with dark red blood, then spotted Adelheid and gaped.

"Y-Your Grace!"

The servant let out an involuntary high-pitched sound, then hastily clamped his mouth shut. He glanced anxiously toward the tent. Following that gaze toward the tent, Adelheid asked quietly:

"How is the patient's condition?"

"I'm afraid……. Not good. The wound on his right leg is quite deep."

The servant hemmed and hawed, reading the room, before speaking honestly. He was the only person in this traveling party capable of performing even basic first aid.

"Has the bleeding stopped?"

"No. We've tried every method we can think of, but the blood won't stop no matter what we do. At this rate, I can't even guarantee recovery."

"……."

"Even if we head to the nearest village, there's no guarantee there'll be a healer. If there were a temple nearby, we could try purification magic somehow……."

"……."

"To be frank, recovery is out of the question—at this rate, the wound will fester."

At those words, anxiety flickered across Klaus's expression.

"Your Grace. I'll knock the bastard unconscious somehow—if Your Grace would apply healing magic directly……."

"Sir Klaus. I understand your intention."

Adelheid firmly cut off Klaus's increasingly lengthy plea. Startled by her own decisiveness, she widened her eyes briefly before continuing calmly.

"But if he's refusing like this, forcing treatment on him could lead to poor results instead. I haven't treated every type of wound, either."

What if she forced healing magic on someone who refused, and it still showed no improvement—or worse, deteriorated? The consequences would be too much for her to bear alone.

Klaus grasped her meaning keenly and groaned.

"Then…… are you saying Your Grace has no solution either?"

Adelheid considered carefully before continuing cautiously.

"For now, I think it's better to follow the original plan—use appropriate herbs and monitor his progress. Here, take this."

Adelheid held out the armful of lamtil plants she'd gathered to the servant.

"Pound this and spread it thinly around the wound. When a foul odor starts rising, you'll need to replace the crushed plants."

"This is…… lamtil."

The servant's eyes rounded in surprise.

"You recognize it?"

"I happened to see an herbalist using it once."

"It will help with detoxification. I don't know what kind of monster attacked him, but……."

Klaus answered her unspoken question quickly.

"It was the big-claws. They were hiding, pretending to be tree roots."

Big-claws. The collective term for monsters with abnormally developed feet.

Their claw toxin was weak, but once festering began, healing was extremely difficult.

Adelheid nodded.

"That's fortunate, at least. If it's that level of toxicity, lamtil should be effective. If the treatment goes well, the fever should break soon. I'll look around the forest and send a few more types of helpful herbs if I find them."

"Ah. That would be much appreciated."

"The book said that finding and brewing loring flowers, and using snow-moss to clean the wound, would help more……."

Adelheid added with some uncertainty.

Her knowledge was clear—she'd memorized every page of the basic herbalism book—but how much she could apply it in practice remained unknown territory.

She'd never actually used it on a person before.

Adelheid smiled, crumpling her skirt hem slightly to hide her nervousness.

Either way, if not for her treatment, this poor knight might soon have to lose a leg. Neither she nor the knight could afford to be choosy.

"But if the high fever worsens and blisters start forming around the wound, then these herbs won't help either."

"You mean they won't help?"

"At that point, the only option will be to amputate before the infected area rots further."

Adelheid noticed the surroundings had grown quiet. Even the tent interior, which had been causing such a commotion, had fallen silent.

Whether they believed her or not, they were clearly listening.

"You all heard that, didn't you?"

Adelheid addressed the tent clearly, in a loud voice that rang out distinctly.

"So, Sir Ian. If you want to live, I hope you choose before it's too late."

The unusual gathering had already been drawing attention, and at her bold words, everyone nearby turned to look at her.

Only then did Adelheid realize how much attention she'd attracted, and her cheeks flushed.

"Then I'll be going now. Sir Klaus, please monitor his progress and let me know later."

That was when it happened.

"Wait…… please wait."