I exposed the part of my left shoulder that had been gouged out by the old man, and carefully placed my finger on it.
The moment I touched it, all I felt was a slight numbness and the heat that should be in the body. That was all my fingertips could feel. I felt no pain, not even the slick of blood.
A breath that sounded like a chill echoed through the tent. But I was the only one who could hear it.
Richard Palmyris, my mentor, wielded a mighty blow that surely would have torn the flesh from his shoulder and cut his bones. I'm sure my body received that soul-crushing, painful impact.
And yet, guess what. What I have on my left shoulder is not a laceration, but a scar where the flesh is buried and the blood has hardened. Only the black makeup of the blood tells me that the wound is brand new.
In the tent, he sits on a chair and grits his teeth. My fingertips desperately searching for the chewing tobacco I had tucked away in my chest.
What the hell is this?
Such a peculiarity is not something I've seen even in my past travels, when magic and deformity abounded. It's not the same as healing by magic, and it's not the same as a spirit's blessing. It's as if the body itself is beginning to combine, flesh with flesh.
It's no longer about the body being strong or healing quickly. It's as if... It's as if we're watching the rebirth of that fleshy monster we saw in the mercenary city of Belle Fain. A feeling of dread ran through my lungs.
I took out a chewing tobacco and put it in my lips and turned my face upward. Only the dirty fabric of the tent came into view.
I wondered what was going on. A few inconclusive thoughts circle in his mind.
"Let's go in, how could I refuse?
Just as my brain was about to reach a fever pitch, a voice pierced through my tent. It was easy to tell who the voice was even without seeing him. After all, there are not many people who speak in such an arrogant manner. Especially, there is only one person I know of.
I quickly covered the scar on my shoulder with my clothes and wagged my lips without looking at him.
'Oh come on, you can't be that scary. You can't be that scared. If you say no, the tip of a sword might be pointed at your neck.
He said teasingly with a dry smile on his cheeks. When I turned my face back to the front, I saw a beautiful silver thread shimmering in the air.
The long sword on his waist was out of proportion to his height, and his piercing silver eyes would frighten anyone who came face to face with him. Standing at the entrance to the tent was, as I had imagined, Kalia Vadnick herself.
She puckered her lips as if to say she was displeased. I don't remember saying anything wrong, but... But it seemed to be difficult for Kalia to accept.
"I think you may have mistaken me for some sort of beast of prey or something.
I wonder if I'm not. Or is it that you are proud of the fact that you are not a beast of prey? I am troubled.
Although such words immediately came up from the bottom of my heart, if I said them out loud, the tip of the long sword might actually point at my neck.
I shook my head in silence, picked up the bottle of sake on the table, and said.
"Sorry to have you here, but this is all we have. If you want some new sake, just ask Ann and she'll find you some.
With that, he tosses the much-diminished bottle of sake to Kalia.
It's not like Kalia has come to my tent to drink, but it would be rude not to offer her a drink when someone comes to visit. Of course, that's just common sense among people like me who come from a lower class.
Kalia blinked her eyelids in disgust for a moment, but still brushed her shapely lips over the bottle and cleared her throat. As usual, she has a strange affinity for alcohol. But of course it was only in this day and age that I was able to get Kalia to drink with me.
I look at Kalia, who sits down in her chair without asking, with her small lips wet, as if to ask her a question. Kalia prefaced her statement with, "It's nothing important.
It's about the city of Philos. Anne says you should be receiving a letter of response soon.
At the same time, a pair of piercing silver eyes looked straight at me.
I'm sure Kalia is referring to the threatening letter from the heraldic religion to the autonomous city of Philos.
I don't remember all the details, but I do remember that the letter roughly asked them to choose between opening the gates and hanging their heads, or letting the city burn as their coffin.
I thought it was a horrible letter, but Anne, who was a gifted negotiator, chose her words and wrote the letter. Then the content of the letter was beyond my reach. I have some confidence in my choice of words when negotiating in back alleys.
I nodded my head in reply, and Kalia bit into every word.
I believe in the power of Ann, but it's what people do. Only the gods know which way the dice will roll--and so...
If the autonomous city of Philos refuses to accept heraldry, Kalia continued.
If that happens, Lugis, how will you use me? I want to hear it from you.
How will you use me? I'm sure you've heard of it, but I've never heard of it.
To be honest, the idea of me using Kalia, whom I had always admired, as a pawn in my game made me feel uncomfortable. It's as if I'm being forced to wear a glove that doesn't fit.
In the first place, given her nature, Kalia is not the kind of dwarf who would serve someone. To be honest, I don't recall ever hearing that she served anyone quietly.
And yet, the reason why Kalia is saying this is because she is trying to comply with the results of the duel in Belle Fain. I'm not sure what to make of that, but I'm sure it's typical for Kalia to be so adamant about her own pride.
For a few moments, I was at a loss for words and held my lips. I tucked the cigarette into my hand and chose my words carefully, saying.
I don't know what to say, but I'm not going to use my swordsman cheaply. Of course not.
Those were words that leaked from the bottom of my heart. Kalia is not the kind of person who works for someone else. Especially on the battlefield, he is someone who deserves even the position of a lord.
Everyone is fascinated by his appearance, and is led by his back. He is the very ruler of the battlefield.
Even in this war, I heard some soldiers speak of Kalia as if they were worshipping her. They called her a "warrior maiden" or a "beautiful princess of the battlefield. Most soldiers like to make up words like that to prevent their minds from being upset, but I suppose that is unavoidable in the face of Kalia.
Kalia is an undeniable hero and heroic figure. That hasn't changed since the past. Kalia may be biased by her nature, but her talent is real. Therefore, I can understand why the soldiers admire her as much as I do. So, with that in mind, I said this.
"Whatever you do, just get it out of my hands and move on. You're not the kind of person to be in my hands, Kalia.
The moment he said that...
--Boom, Lin.
The instant I said that, the sound of a liquor bottle being crushed echoed through the tent.