Chapter 29
Chapter 29
“Did it, damn it!”
That day, when I had stepped right up to death’s door.
When I opened my eyes again,
what filled my nose wasn’t the stench of blood—but the sharp, bitter scent of medicinal herbs.
“…Ugh.”
The crushing ache in every muscle proved that I was still alive.
I forced myself upright and looked around.
Instead of a battlefield soaked in blood, I found myself in a shabby apothecary at the edge of a village—a place I had passed by a few times before while running errands.
An old pharmacist, who came out after hearing movement, let out a short breath when he saw me.
“Well now, you’re awake? Heard a noise, opened the door, and there you were—collapsed right in front, soaked in blood.”
For a moment, the image of silver hair cascading like a galaxy—and the sensation of lips—flashed through my mind.
“…I was definitely about to die… Did that client save me?”
But it didn’t make sense.
Those weren’t injuries that could be healed with a single recovery potion.
And it couldn’t have been magic either.
In this world, mana and divine power were completely different domains.
No matter how powerful a mage was, at most they could use basic healing as first aid.
There was no way they could instantly mend a body as torn apart as mine.
A miracle that forcibly stitches a severed lifeline back together—
that kind of thing belonged only to high-ranking priests who borrowed the power of gods… or so I’d heard.
So how did I survive?
And how did I even get here?
My thoughts tangled into a mess, but the one person who could answer them was already gone.
Instead, as I searched through my bloodstained pocket to pay for the medicine, I found a note I didn’t recognize.
[Thank you.]
Just two words, written in a trembling hand.
And alongside it, a pouch filled with a surprisingly heavy amount of coins—the remaining payment for the mission.
After leaving the apothecary,
I returned to the forest.
But…
The captain was gone.
No—
there was nothing left at all.
No blood, no bodies, no traces.
Everything had been wiped clean.
Too clean.
So clean it felt wrong.
As if that horrific event had existed only in my head.
But…
The nauseating stench of blood that had climbed up my throat,
the warm spray that had burst before my eyes,
the horrifying sensation of flesh tearing and bones shattering—
all of it still remained inside me.
…
‘What am I supposed to do now?’
I had moved only out of a flimsy sense of responsibility—to fulfill the captain’s last request and protect the client.
But the truth was…
I had been terrified.
It had hurt like hell.
I didn’t have the guts to drive cold steel into someone’s flesh anymore.
Nor did I have the noble resolve to throw my life away for someone else.
I was just a pathetic coward, struggling desperately not to die.
…
In the end,
after my very first mission,
with trembling hands—
I broke my sword.