Chapter 53
Chapter 53
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: The Scent of Morning Air
-----------------------------------------------------------------
It was the smell of morning air. The crisp scent that sharpened her mind made Inebil open her eyes.
She scratched her itchy head and looked around. For a moment, she wondered where she was.
There was Guchi, wrapped in a blanket and coughing lightly. Next to him, the nearly extinguished campfire. And finally, Lander staring blankly into the distance.
"You're awake?"
Lander asked. She let out a big yawn before replying.
"Yeah. But were you standing watch alone?"
"Couldn't sleep."
She shoved her hands under her armpits and shivered. The weather was pretty chilly. November was right around the corner—winter would arrive in the blink of an eye.
She tossed some nearby firewood into the campfire. When she gently blew on it with pursed lips, the embers sprang back to life.
"Why does this guy look so pitiful?"
She muttered in a husky voice. Guchi, bundled up like a caterpillar, grimaced and crawled toward the fire. She draped the blanket from around her legs over him.
"What are you thinking about?"
She sat down next to Lander.
"Nothing."
"Sometimes you get like that."
Inebil glanced in the direction Lander was staring.
A clear stretch of sky met low-rising mountains. She wasn't the type to stay quiet by nature, so she wanted to strike up a conversation, but no suitable words came to mind. She retreated for now.
She returned to the campfire and watched Guchi groaning there. This old man was subtly entertaining to observe.
"You should eat breakfast."
She said to Lander. It was a carefully chosen phrase. She was hungry anyway.
"There should be food in the backpack."
She picked up the backpack Lander pointed to. Inside was a sausage wrapped in rough-textured paper.
There was a chunk of cheese too. It was dried out on the surface, crumbling at the edges. She sniffed it—no risk of dying from it.
She grabbed the pan used for cooking and headed to the nearby river. Dipping her hands in to wash her face, she thought they'd freeze solid. She pressed her reddened hands to her cheeks and held still. Sleep vanished instantly.
After a quick cat-like wash, she filled the pan with water.
Back at the campfire, Guchi had shifted positions. His face must have gotten too hot; he had turned around to warm his back.
Lander was still in the same pose, admiring the sky.
"You have to eat well when your body temperature drops. My master always stressed that."
She placed the pan on a makeshift frame of stones and firewood. Before the water boiled, she added the dried rice and sausage, stirring with a stick. Steam rose, and it began bubbling.
"What are you doing?"
Guchi asked in a gravelly voice. She replied kindly. Making breakfast.
"Slept like a log."
"You were exhausted because of me."
Guchi muttered something at her words, but she couldn't make it out.
She scooped some puffed rice into her mouth with the spoon. It was the kind of taste you forced down to survive. It would've been better with more sausage for flavor.
"Whose spoon is that?"
"Dunno. It was in the backpack there."
Inebil said as she put the spoon in her mouth. Guchi's eyes shifted slyly. His expression soured—he must be the owner.
"If you're using that, what am I supposed to eat with?"
"I'll eat quick and give it back. Washed clean."
"Forget it. You eat first."
With the spoon still in her mouth, she looked at Lander. He silently pulled out a spoon and bowl from his own pack and came over.
"Not bad at all."
Lander's verdict after a mouthful of porridge. She beamed.
"Old man, have a bite."
She licked the spoon thoroughly before offering it to Guchi. He recoiled in disgust, grabbed his own bowl, and ladled some food from the pan.
"Don't be awkward—use the spoon."
"That's worse than when I was a hostage."
"Really?"
"Miss, I'm a lot cleaner than I look."
Inebil let out a small gasp of admiration before speaking.
"Did you just call me 'miss'? First time anyone's done that. I hate 'lady'—it reeks of social pretension. But 'miss' feels fresh."
"Never been called 'miss' before?"
"Hey, kid. This was the norm for me. Same in my mercenary days. With close enough folks to exchange names, they just used that—no fancy titles like 'miss'."
"I see. Should I keep calling you that from now on? Miss."
"If you're gonna tease like that, I'll start fighting back soon."
"Bring it."
Lander, who had been quietly chewing his porridge, suddenly spoke up.
"Mr. Guchi is a good man. The cool type who risks himself for others."
"Knew it. His face screams that vibe."
"He's someone to be grateful for."
"Yeah, really. So grateful."
Guchi set down his bowl and looked at them.
"You two hit it off quick. What happened while I was asleep?"
"What would've happened? Me and the old man slept straight through till morning."
"Come to think of it, what about the watch? You didn't stand it alone, did you?"
Lander nodded silently in response to the question and took another bite of porridge.
The way Lander ate reminded her of a cow chewing cud. Pious, like a cow eating—odd phrasing, but it fit.
"Not tired?"
"I'm fine. Can go three days without sleep, no problem. Probably longer."
"You're more fascinating the more I learn."
With breakfast done, Guchi picked up the dirty pan and stood. When she asked where he was going, he said to do the dishes.
"I'll do it."
"You cooked—that's enough. Cleanup's for the lazy one who didn't lift a finger."
Guchi sneezed loudly as he walked off briskly. Watching him go, she said,
"You two seem like old friends."
"That how it looks?"
"Yeah. You look really close."
"If so, it's thanks to Mr. Guchi's consideration."
Lander drew his sword. He polished it whenever he had a moment. It was already impeccably clean, no spots left, yet he wiped every inch with cloth.
On impulse, she laid her halberd across her thighs. She wiped the blade with cloth, then the handle. It had been ages since she'd cleaned the weapon.
She only used it for spars with her master, and after becoming acting commander, she hadn't even held it.
The handle, worn smooth from countless grips, and the dulled blade—proof she'd spent her time productively.
Life after joining the mercenaries had been a breathless whirlwind. Hard to believe she'd once quietly helped around the estate; her days brimmed with pulse-pounding excitement.
After meeting her master, it intensified. She hated wasting rest time for training, clinging to him daily.
She could feel herself changing upon waking each day. It was pure joy. Her body screamed, but her spirit soared to the heavens.
She thought following her master would always bring that thrill, and he never failed to deliver.
But after meeting Shelder, life evened out.
Shelder, whom her master served, was unlike other nobles—he truly cared. Not calculating affection based on gains, but genuine love for the common folk.
No discord in a land ruled by such a man, and without discord, no quarrels. Opportunities to fight vanished accordingly.
There had been that scuffle with Anke's side, but it barely qualified as a duel—sloppy at best.
For reasons unknown, Shelder spared Anke. Probably mercy. He could've swept Anke's forces with just her master.
She'd learned etiquette, as people must change. It wasn't hard, having picked up basics at the estate. Her days filled with petty squabbles with Anke's rigid troops and stuffy lessons.
Half a year ago, even spars with her master stopped. He was constantly on the move, barely lingering in the territory—countable on one hand. Actually, she hadn't seen him in half a year.
Where was he wandering? She'd once begged to come along, but he refused. Too early, he said.
Too early for what? When she pressed, he said Shelder would explain when the time came.
Good people, peaceful territory. She knew nothing was more precious than this monotonous routine—yet she was growing weary.
She was never the type to sit in a rocking chair, leisurely playing chess.
The day she smashed a noble bug with a silver candlestick, she'd seized her life by force.
Battle, bloody retaliation—it had restored her vitality. Combat was the word that fully defined her existence. Someday it would end, but not now.
That was when she crossed paths with Lander. Overwhelmed by his strength, she was hooked. Like the impulsive days chasing her master, she set out after him.
To grow stronger.
For intense battles.
"This'll clean the blade nicely."
His voice snapped her from reverie. She looked up. Lander offered oil-soaked cloth.
"Thanks. I'll use it well."
She wiped the halberd blade with it. The neglected edge now gleamed somewhat decently. Seeing the sheen, she felt a pang of guilt. Should've maintained it better.
"Planning to stick with us?"
Lander asked.
"If you'll allow it."
"Nothing left for you to learn."
"You're certain, but I see potential. My master said the same at first. No talent. But he took it back soon enough."
"Ms. Inebil clearly has talent. Enough to join Schola now."
"Schola. I've thought about it a few times. But it's all rules there. Hate stiff places."
She met Lander's eyes and asked,
"But you say I have talent, then claim nothing to teach? Why?"
"I know from experience. Tried teaching a few once. Failed."
"For what reason?"
"First, I thought I lacked skill as an instructor. But later I realized: my techniques can't be taught or passed on."
"I'll learn without giving up."
Lander smiled faintly.
"They all vowed like you, Ms. Inebil. But they failed."
"Your skill two days ago was astonishing. Hard to even track with my eyes. But if it's not mana-based physical techniques, maybe I could learn..."
"Mana-based physical techniques."
Lander repeated.
"Mind standing up for a sec?"
Inebil gripped her halberd and rose quickly.
"You said I used mana-based physical techniques."
"Yes."
"Not entirely wrong, but by my standards, that's not what using mana means. Maybe better to show than explain. Worked on the others."
Lander drew his sword. Three meters away, yet she felt a sting between her brows. The sharp tip seemed ready to pierce her skull.
"If you're awake, I'll help as you wish, Ms. Inebil. Nothing else to do anyway."
"I'll endure with willpower. To learn your techniques."
She gripped the halberd, on guard. Lander kindly warned: attack coming. His sword moved slowly.
She watched the vertical slash. What was he doing? The thought crept in—then darkness swallowed her vision.
