Chapter 78
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: 17. Demon Plague. (5)
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Ugh.
Natasha opened her eyes. Her blurry vision gradually sharpened, soon filling with bright sunlight.
……Ah………
She snapped her eyes wide open and bolted upright. Ugh. A brief groan escaped her lips from the piercing pain throughout her body, but she gritted her teeth, rose from her seat, and stepped out onto the sunlit terrace.
It was a peaceful morning, brimming with warm sunlight and fresh air. She felt no more nausea. …How long she had longed and prayed for this moment—!
Overwhelmed by heart-wrenching emotion, she shed no tears. Instead, she let out a strange, hiccuping sound that was neither laughter nor sob.
I'm alive. Alive. Truly…. Truly….
Everything had returned to normal life now. Except for her body.
Natasha returned to her room and gulped down the bowl of grain porridge on the table in one go. No trace of disgust. The ecstasy dancing on her tongue nearly brought her to climax.
She shouted in a hoarse voice toward the maid waiting outside the door.
“More porridge! Bring more porridge…!”
The maid jumped at the young lady's voice and flung the door open. Ah—. She saw Natasha slamming the empty bowl on the table, demanding more porridge.
“Y-Yes, right away—!”
Soon, word spread like wildfire through the count's grand mansion that Lady Natasha had awakened. The count and his children all rushed in together.
“Natasha, are you finally coming to your senses? Oh, my daughter…!”
The countess shed tears of joy at her daughter's full recovery. Of course, the naturally stoic Natasha maintained her calm demeanor even after rising from the dead.
The count, arriving late, tightly embraced his hale daughter and patted her back.
“You've suffered so much. Truly suffered. …Natasha, you were right. You overcame it with your mental fortitude. You triumphed through sheer willpower.”
Those afflicted with the Demon Plague all perished within two months at most, yet only Natasha endured for half a year. An impossible feat without her ironclad will to survive.
And to fully cure what was deemed nearly incurable? That accomplishment was even more extraordinary.
Of course, Natasha didn't attribute it all to herself. The count's unwavering support to the end, and Mercenary Leader Allen's unearthing of the disease's root cause, were equally vital.
“You still need more rest, so everyone, please leave.”
The count dismissed the household staff and remained alone. Natasha gulped down another bowl of lukewarm porridge brought by the maid.
“One more.”
Only after downing two more bowls did she lightly pat her now-full stomach. For the first time, strength seemed to return to her perpetually frail body.
“…Has Mercenary Leader Allen not come?”
The count smiled meaningfully.
“I sent for him earlier, so he'll arrive soon.”
Speak of the devil. Word arrived that Allen had just shown up.
“Ah, Your Excellency is here too.”
“Yes. I've just finished my business.”
The count wasn't so oblivious as to intrude on their private moment. Once Allen confirmed the count closing the door behind him, he smiled at Natasha.
“Glad to see you've woken up safe and sound.”
“It's thanks to you, Mercenary Leader Allen. Thank you, truly.”
As Natasha bowed her head lightly, Allen gave a peculiar smile, his eyes twinkling.
“If the lady hadn't endured, there wouldn't have even been a chance. Impressive.”
This time, she didn't feign modesty. Surviving half a year in that hell where even a speck of sunlight induced vomiting—force-feeding herself that garbage-tasting broth—her willpower deserved thunderous applause. …Hearing Mercenary Leader Allen acknowledge her tear-jerkingly arduous struggle filled her with profound gratitude.
“So… what's your impression?”
……Impression……
“I'm happy. …To be alive.”
“An excellent impression.”
The two exchanged faint smiles.
“Then, rest well. Lady.”
“…See you next time.”
Allen left with his captivating smile, vanishing like the wind. …That smile lingered in her mind, refusing to fade.
Count Biya welcomed Mercenary Leader Allen with great fanfare. How could he treat shabbily the benefactor who saved his dearly beloved daughter?
“It's your achievement, Leader. You did it. You truly cured the Demon Plague.”
“Everyone's effort. …Especially, your daughter endured so well. Without that, there'd have been no chance.”
“…Yes, she clung to that chance till the end. And you made it reality.”
Allen offered only a faint smile and a light nod. He knew silence here was far more effective than empty words.
The count, who had been staring at him intently, let out an awed “Ah” and placed two heavy pouches on the table.
“Out of the four thousand gold coins, here are two thousand.”
Allen thought inwardly, What about the other two thousand?—but instead of voicing it, he simply gazed at the count. Count Biya explained the house's circumstances.
“Gathering so much gold on short notice caused some issues. Grain prices spiked last time, so we stockpiled generously, draining our reserves. I'll need a bit more time… Can you understand?”
“Ah, I see.”
It was a perfectly understandable situation. Grain prices were skyrocketing across the continent lately, with hoarding everywhere. House Biya must have felt the crisis and emptied their coffers to stockpile. The count couldn't have foreseen needing thousands of gold coins so suddenly. …A confluence of coincidences.
“If you're in a hurry, I can offer jewels instead.”
“No need. Take your time.”
He wasn't refusing outright but promised to procure it somehow—Allen had the patience to wait. Dealing with jewels would be a hassle anyway….
He figured resting here as an honored guest and catching his breath wasn't bad. He'd been racing nonstop from the west.
He pocketed the two thousand gold coins first. Truth be told, this alone made the mission a resounding success. Less than what he'd earned for grueling work out west.
“Rest comfortably here until the rest is ready. Speak up if anything's inconvenient. …As I said, you're like a comrade to me.”
“With Your Excellency's kind regard, I want for nothing. …Then I'll take my leave.”
“Very well.”
Feeling the satisfying weight in his bosom, Allen left the count's study.
……A month flew by in the blink of an eye.
Natasha had gained considerable flesh and muscle through grueling effort. …Her petite frame meant her breasts were smaller than average—a flaw—but she now carried a ladylike air.
……Hmph. Breasts or whatever, I'll overcome with willpower…!
Occasionally, glimpsing the massive udders of Elena the mage from Allen Mercenary Corps stirred an inexplicable sense of defeat… but for now, she considered it mentally conquered.
While self-consoling that such huge breasts would only be cumbersome and sinking into meditation, Allen visited her.
“You look much healthier now. Quite fetching.”
“…Thank you. I've recovered only about thirty percent of my original prowess, but… yes, well, it's somewhat usable now.”
[Genius] [Indomitable Will] [Recklessness] [Narcissism] [Sensitive] [Insomnia] [Enlightenment] [Trust] [Attachment]
Gum-chewing Natasha's stats had transformed unrecognizably in a month. Another month like this, and she'd nearly reclaim her former prowess. Depending on effort, but as someone more training-obsessed than even the drill sergeant Victor, full recovery was plausible. Especially with her new [Enlightenment] trait, her growth would accelerate noticeably.
……Not coveting her would be a lie. A future member of the Ten Strong, no less.
“I'm leaving soon.”
—!!!
Natasha's ever-serene expression crumbled instantly.
“…Leaving?”
“Yes. Received the full remaining pay recently, so tomorrow or the day after. We're a mercenary corps, after all.”
She'd anticipated it someday. …But now that it was here, her heart pounded and chest tightened.
“I see…”
Allen stared at her for a long moment, then strode to the table and sat. He gestured for her to take the seat opposite.
As Natasha sat, Allen spoke with unwonted seriousness.
“Natasha. I want to recruit you into my mercenary corps.”
—!
He cut straight to it, no beating around the bush. He knew that worked best for her.
“If you're willing, we can negotiate right here.”
It was a new side of him she'd never seen.
Allen waited patiently for her response.
……Truthfully, she felt a bit shy haggling her own worth. Not like before—still far from peak.
“…Are you sure? If it's pity, I'll decline.”
“No pity at all. I'm ruthlessly pragmatic in business. I judge you fit, so I offer. …I held back before to focus on recovery, but no more time to wait.”
Natasha felt overwhelmed by his sharp gaze. …Who knew such edge hid beneath that warmth and leisure?
“If you're worried about your current condition, don't be. I'm investing in your future. This is a long-term contract, not short.”
Gum-chewing Natasha pondered briefly and decided. …Truth be told, she'd desperately wanted to go with him. Just held back fearing it'd burden him. But if he asked first? Different story.
No need for prolonged thought. She wanted to join his corps and see the wide world firsthand. Not hear tales, but witness with her own eyes…!
“…Understood. I'll do it.”
Averse to flowery words, she went straight.
“Then, what pay do you have in mind?”
“…Well.”
She thought hard, then cautiously spoke.
“That… female mage, how much does she get?”
“Nothing fixed, but… around twenty gold coins.”
Seemed low. A mage for mere twenty?
But Mercenary Leader Allen wouldn't lie. Some circumstance between them, probably.
She couldn't demand more anyway. He was her benefactor, knew her state. Conscientious, she couldn't act otherwise.
“…Then, I'll take twenty-one.”
Some inexplicable inferiority… no, competitive spirit.
……Absolutely not because of breasts. Absolutely—!
“Agreed.”
Allen accepted readily. Such talent for a mere twenty-one? Snap it up.
He extended his hand to seal the deal.
“Twenty-one gold per month, for two years. Settled.”
“Got it, Mercenary Leader Allen.”
Gum-chewing Natasha grabbed his hand firmly.
……Unaware it was the demon's claw.