Unexpected Reunion
Believing it was an unexpected reunion was impossible. It felt like I was dreaming. My shoulder felt empty below. What followed the disbelief was an indescribable pain. Blood poured out as if vomiting rage, and nausea churned in my gut. “This fucking shit!”
I tried to clutch the wound with my left hand, but that did nothing to ease the agony. Still, if I didn’t do at least this much, I’d lose my mind. It hurt. It hurt so bad I felt like I was going to die. No other thoughts could form. My vision blurred, and dizziness washed over me. Was this what going into shock from blood loss felt like? Damn it, I couldn’t die here. Was I already dead? I needed to open my eyes, but the thought of facing that horrific reality terrified me. Yet this didn’t feel like any afterlife. It wasn’t that mysterious space with the dwarf either. My body seemed to be lying somewhere. Maybe I’d been buried alive.
When I opened my eyes, thankfully, I wasn’t underground. What I saw was the ceiling of a tent. “Boss, are you awake?”
“Lati?”
“Yes, it’s me, Lati. Thank goodness. You’ve been lying there for days—I was really worried.”
“What happened? And where is this?”
“Marquelon! Are you all right?”
Suddenly, an elf called my name from outside the tent and stepped inside. It was a face I never expected to see. Sergeant Richel? Why the hell was that elf here? My head spun, and a headache throbbed. Without thinking, I glanced down at my right arm. Nothing was there where an arm should have been. My arm… where did my arm go? This had to be a dream. I was definitely hallucinating.
“My right arm…”
Pain? No. There was no pain. This was a sense of loss. The body part that belonged there had been cleanly severed and was simply gone. Did this mean I’d become an amputee? Like that one-armed swordsman from the pirate manga? But I couldn’t even use a sword. At best, I was a watered-down version of Tirga, just a lightning-spamming lightning wrapper. I’d been bragging about how insanely strong I was, and now look at me. This pathetic sight was nothing more than a one-armed cripple. That was right—I’d failed to know my place. The strong ones were Tirga and my summons, not me. No matter how powerful my summons were, there was a limit to how much they could protect me, and I’d overlooked that. Now I had to live as a disabled person in a world with no welfare or disability benefits. My vision darkened, and my breath caught in my throat.
“Marquelon. Why are you crying?”
“I’m a cripple… I’m a one-armed cripple…”
“If you’re sad, crying is one way to handle it. Still, I’m glad you’re alive, Marquelon.”
Richel pulled me into a tight embrace. It felt like an angel was holding me. Warm, and she smelled good. I wrapped my remaining left arm around her. Even then, blood rushed to my crotch and hardened. What the fuck. Well, a dick was a dick. Anyway, Richel’s hug and comfort eased my heart a little. Crying my eyes out had helped too. They say a man cries three times in his life—those arrogant idiots who act tough should try losing an arm like me. Then they’d cry the same way.
“Why are you here, Richel?”
“Actually, the Empire has been keeping a close eye on you, Marquelon. They consider you an exceptional talent. We were searching to scout you when we found you in danger.”
“What happened to the woman who cut off my arm?”
“She ran the moment she saw our Imperial Guard. We tried to pursue, but she wasn’t ordinary—she vanished quickly.”
“That damn bitch… I’ll kill her…”
“Calm down. You still need rest.”
“But that swordswoman might come back to finish me off. Lying around here comfortably is dangerous.”
“Don’t worry about that. No one approached while you were unconscious. Besides, the Guard will protect you, so rest easy.”
I felt a bit relieved. If I faced that monster again, it wouldn’t be just my arm—it’d be my head. Thinking back, I still didn’t know if she was a murim-in or just some swordswoman, but she’d been absurdly strong. A human who could tank Tirga’s lightning? She had to be another otherworlder like me. If even the battle-crazy Tirga got tense, just how powerful was she? How much strength would I need for revenge? First, I needed a summon stronger than what I had now—something reliable that could actually protect me. Morvanel’s face flashed through my mind. The empress who commanded spider armies, the boss of the abyss. If I had a summon who could wield webs like wires with cruel, cunning skill, could she match that murim woman? Besides, Morvanel had said she’d join when I needed revenge. It had been a while since I opened the gacha window. When was the last time I rolled for Deimos power armor? Quite some time ago, apparently. The pickup had changed, but there was no information about Morvanel anywhere. This was an unfair deal from the start. Since I couldn’t even see the rates, the only way to get Morvanel was to dump money blindly.
“Come to think of it, what about Tirga, the one who was with me?”
“Ah, right, about that…”
> When Marquelon lost consciousness, Tirga was forcibly unsummoned. Sleeping is fine, but losing consciousness will automatically release your summons, so please be careful.
So that was what happened. I must’ve been completely out of it to forget about Tirga. How was I supposed to explain this? Should I just tell them honestly that Tirga was my summon? I wasn’t sure I could trust these black-clad elves. Plus, I’d already dumped Richel and left. Still, the silver lining was that Richel didn’t seem resentful. She just genuinely worried about me, like a lover. In the end, telling the truth wouldn’t cause me any fatal harm, so I decided to be honest.
“Tirga is my summon. I must’ve unsummoned her when I passed out.”
“I’ve seen mages who tame monsters, but summoning and commanding a legendary giant… As expected, you’re impressive, Marquelon.”
“What good does that do? Right now I’m just a one-armed cripple.”
“Marquelon. Come back to the Empire with me. With our technology, we can easily craft a custom prosthetic arm perfectly suited for you.”
Richel squeezed my only remaining hand as she spoke. I really was a piece of trash. I’d coldly rejected her, saying I was tired of elves, yet here she was being so kind. This was what they called a benefactor. I had no right to refuse anyway. In this state, I couldn’t exactly go around as a mercenary and accomplish anything. And if I wandered around carelessly, I might run into another powerhouse. Right now, I needed someone powerful watching my back. The Silvareich Empire would suffice. I didn’t know much about international politics, but the people of this world feared the black-clad elves greatly. Even that murim woman had fled at the sight of them, so the Empire’s power must be immense. Building strength under their wing seemed like a solid plan. Their atrocities and ideology didn’t matter to me.
“Understood.”
“Good thinking, Marquelon. I, Richel, will stake my life on keeping you safe.”
“Thank you for saving me, Richel.”
“Don’t mention it. Your beastman companion looks uncomfortable, so I’ll go handle some work and return later.”
Come to think of it, Lati had been imprisoned in an imperial camp. Standing here with the Imperial Guard must’ve been mental torture for her. I tried to pat her trembling head, only to remember my right arm was gone. Habits were terrifying. Disgust and nausea surged again, and my blood boiled. That damn murim bitch—I was going to kill her for sure. I’d capture her and tear her limb from limb.
“Boss, are you okay?”
“Huh? Ah, I’m fine. Just spaced out for a second. Anyway, you don’t look comfortable, Lati. Isn’t this place uncomfortable for you?”
“It would be a lie to say it isn’t. But if it weren’t for them, you would’ve died back there. They saved my savior’s life, so a little discomfort is nothing…”
“Lati, things are going to get even more dangerous from now on. You might get seriously hurt or even die, just like me. So you should leave and find your own life. I’ll give you plenty of money.”
“I don’t want to. How can you say something so irresponsible when you should be taking responsibility for me? You pulled me out of hell, so I’ll stay with you even if it means dying together.”
What a loyal subordinate. If it were me, I’d have taken the money and run. Guess there really were people in this world who couldn’t be bought with cash. Yeah, if there were traitors, there had to be trustworthy ones too—that was what made life worth living.
Grumble. My stomach was demanding food. Well, after being unconscious for so long, it made sense I’d be hungry. Looking down, my entire body was wrapped in bandages. That sword wind must’ve left me covered in wounds. I looked like an Egyptian mummy.
“Are you hungry? I’ll go find some soft food.”
“Sorry for troubling you, Lati.”
“A subordinate can at least do this much for their boss. No need to apologize.”
Lati kissed my cheek and left the tent. I wanted to grab that short, cute tail of hers, but I had neither the strength nor the right hand. Still, the fact that I could think such cheeky thoughts meant my mind was recovering a bit. Was this because of the tarot’s side effects messing with my mental state, or just human adaptability? What happened to Tirga? She’d risked her life to protect me, yet her worthless master had only now started worrying about her. I wanted to summon her right now and hug her, but that would probably destroy the tent.
“Info window. What’s Tirga’s status?”
> She sustained minor injuries but is fine.
“As expected of an SSS-rank. Still, it’s hard to imagine that monstrous giant getting hurt.”
A wave of helplessness pressed down on me. I had no choice but to lie back down. Was this a sleeping bag? It was surprisingly soft—pretty nice. Yeah, let’s think positively. Even though I lost an arm, I survived. Lati and Tirga were both safe. I could still use my abilities and power. After all, I wasn’t a warrior who swung weapons myself—I was a summoner, so I could still fight. Daily life was going to be incredibly inconvenient, though.