SBTMK Chapter 39

The demon-beast was finished off completely.

Everyone sheathed their swords with exhausted faces and turned to the wounded.

As soon as Flora confirmed it had gone down, she made her way back along the path she'd climbed and helped the injured knights.

Watching them tend to their own comrades without anyone giving the order, something caught fire deep in her chest and shook through her whole body.

This was a life Flora had never gotten to have.

The right thing to do—leave behind anyone too wounded to be worth anything anymore. An organization where every last one of them thought that was just obvious.

Cenkan.

Flora realized all over again just what a trash heap she'd been soaking in.

Paul sat with his head resting against a large rock, his left leg wounded.

He'd sworn to protect people and hadn't managed it. He said he'd already been attacked and injured before Flora had even reached him.

When Flora let her worry show, Paul smiled gamely and said he was fine.

The problem was that he looked nothing like fine to her.

"A third-rank demon-beast, out here—must mean everything in the Hollow's cleared out."

Hakra clicked his tongue and looked over at the pile of wilted, sorry-looking plant matter.

"You lot stay and see to the wounded here. I'll go check the Hollow myself. There might be stragglers who didn't make it out."

"Commander! That's dangerous. We don't even know what's still in there. At the very least, take every elite knight with you. Reconsider, please."

A Black Knight made it plain he wouldn't accept anything less.

Several others added their agreement, and Hakra waved them along with a follow-me gesture.

Flora, on Hakra's order, handled the cleanup at the ravine.

She dug up herbs from the mountainside that stopped bleeding and helped wounds close, crushed them, and pressed the paste into the wounded knights' injuries.

Most eyed her with suspicion, but they were too exhausted to question what it was or resist, and simply complied.

The dead knights she gathered off to one side and laid out with care. She cut and set aside keepsakes and pieces of collar, and prayed with a reverent heart for their final passage. Five had died in total.

Hakra's group made it back to the ravine right around dusk. Mercifully, aside from minor injuries, there were no further casualties.

Sarthe told her the smaller beasts had been a nuisance, but the sweep was done.

Hakra looked far more worn out than when he'd left, and the moment he reached the ravine he dropped to the ground—then, less than three minutes later, was up and moving again. He was heading toward where the dead had been gathered.

The commander's movement quieted everyone at once.

Even the knights just back from the Hollow, exhausted as they were, went to the bodies. Someone's superior officer. Someone's comrade. Someone's aide. They all prayed for the noble knights who had given themselves for the empire.

They decided to spend the night there and take the wounded down the mountain first thing the next morning.

There was a stream nearby where they could wash hands or faces, and while the ground was rocky enough to make sleeping uncomfortable on the back, there was no better spot for so many people to camp together at once.

"What's this?"

Sarthe tilted his head at the crushed herbs Flora had set aside.

"...I dug up some herbs that help with bleeding and wound recovery, and crushed them."

"So you know about that kind of thing, too. The more I watch you, the more entertaining you get."

He dabbed a fingertip into the crushed herbs on the rock and applied it to a small cut on his own arm.

Without so much as looking at Flora, he added, flat and offhand:

"Your cover fire worked. Thanks."

Deep in the night, when everyone was asleep.

A black shadow moved restlessly through the ravine.

It seemed to search for someone for a long while, wandering, before it finally reached out a hand.

The one who woke at the touch caught their breath in brief surprise, then rose carefully and made their way toward the back of the ravine.

No one stood watch there. No one passed through. A private, hidden space.

"Are you insane? Here?"

"It's thrilling, isn't it."

"......"

"Just hand it over already."

These were people with a clear purpose.

They traded what each of them wanted. Mage-stones and money.

The one holding the mage-stones handed over one high-grade stone and two ordinary ones first.

"Only three?"

"...That's already a ton, what I skimmed off."

"Fair enough. Too many of you humans anyway. Tch."

The person who'd only just woken up screwed their face into a scowl at the mocking tone.

"Here's your payment."

This time a pouch of money passed from hand to hand.

The hesitating hand ultimately took the money.

"There's no next time."

"...And that's a decision you get to make?"

"I did enough. Now I decide. So tell them. Tell them there's no next time."

"Oh-ho. Ooh, terrifying."

The grin that answered was contemptuous enough to make it clear the words hadn't been heard at all.

Even in the dark, the latent violence in his face was unmistakable.

Bringing all the wounded down off that punishing mountain was grueling work.

Taking turns carrying and supporting one another, the knights got themselves off the mountain quickly enough.

They made it to the count's castle before the sun went down, mercifully.

The priests waiting at the castle healed the wounded.

The count laid out food, liquor, and lodging in gratitude for the knights' hard work.

Flora, thoroughly sick of dry, hard-baked flatbread by then, went utterly blind at the sight of meat.

So good!

Everything tasted exactly right in her mouth. Even a plate of weeds with fruit sauce dumped on top tasted incredible.

The other knights finished their meals just as ravenously.

The moment she got back to her room, Flora dropped onto the bed. Sleeping haphazardly on dirt for that many days had left her whole body aching.

She groaned, shifted her weight, and settled into exactly the right position for sleep.

They'd stay and rest in the count's territory for the next three days, recovering from the fatigue while assessing whether any stragglers remained on the mountain.

After that, they'd return to the capital.

Now that it was all behind her, a swell of satisfaction rose up in her—the feeling of a mission accomplished.

Flora smiled, faintly.

Her mind was at peace.

She wanted to hurry back and see Simen. She wanted to tell him she'd done well.

But that happiness of hers would not survive long before it started to falter.

"Paul. Are you doing all right?"

The day after the subjugation mission ended, Flora paid him a visit, since he was stuck lying in his room at the count's castle unable to move.

His leg still wasn't usable.

He'd told her a plant stalk had gone through his thigh like an arrow.

The priest had said it would heal fully before they returned to the capital, but the worry didn't settle easily even so.

At Flora's concerned question, Paul nodded.

"I saw you fighting. You were really, genuinely brave. How do you even use a bow like that?"

Flora blinked at the barrage of questions.

"Standing up high, covering the commander and the officers—that was so cool. I wish I had courage like that."

"You've got plenty of courage already."

A bitter smile had settled onto Paul's mouth before she noticed it forming.

"No. The truth is, I was scared."

"......"

"So I couldn't be brave."

Flora studied his face intently. She saw it twist, just slightly.

"I was so afraid I might die that even though I could've kept fighting, I pretended to be unconscious."

"...Paul."

"And in that time, five of the people in our group died... while I—"

Flora shook her head.

"Paul. Don't blame yourself. We're baby knights, barely two weeks in the corps. No baby knight can stay unshaken in the face of death."

"......"

"There'll be plenty more trial and error ahead. Each time, you'll just save more people than the time before."

Paul looked at her with eyes gone bright red.

He'd been putting on a front the whole time—he hadn't actually been all right, not in the way she'd assumed.

Looking at the state of him, it was obvious he hadn't slept a wink the night before.

"You need to get some sleep first. You can't think straight without it."

Flora eased him back down onto the bed from where he'd been sitting upright.

He really is new, she thought.

This kid was going to suffer all over again the first time he actually killed someone with his own hands, she knew.

Plenty of new recruits felt guilt the first time they cut or stabbed a person themselves.

That kind of thing rarely happened in Cenkan, but it did show up now and then.

And every time it had, Flora used to say the same thing:

If you don't want to end someone else's life, end your own instead.

Looking back now, it was a cold thing to say—no answer to it at all, nothing but a sigh.

"Close your eyes now."

Flora pulled herself out of the thought and spoke to Paul, who was still watching her.

Her brow must have creased faintly, her voice going sharp, because he seemed to catch on with uncanny speed and squeezed his eyes shut.