Chapter 5. Bandages Instead of a Sword
Chapter 5. Bandages Instead of a Sword
Karen properly opened her eyes the next morning.
This time, she didn't fade quickly like the first day. The fever was still there, but her gaze was much clearer. While Ruan was changing the bandage on her side, she spoke first.
"This time you didn't run away."
Ruan looked up. Karen tried to raise her upper body but winced at the pain, yet she swallowed any groan. Sera snapped immediately.
"Don't move. If it reopens, we'll be the ones stitching you back up."
Karen glanced at Sera, then looked at Ruan again.
"Name."
"Ruan Hesse."
"Military medic."
"You can see that, can't you?"
Karen's lips moved just a little.
"Karen."
"Family name?"
She answered a beat late.
"Not needed right now."
Sera let out an incredulous laugh.
"Saying that just makes you look more suspicious."
Ruan placed a damp cloth back on her forehead and examined the wound. It was swollen red, but there was no pus. The stitches were still holding well.
Even if Karen was good at enduring, she couldn't hide the slight trembling of her side muscles every time she breathed in.
"You'll survive."
Karen immediately shot back.
"You made sure of that."
"The Medical Unit did."
"That answer again."
Karen paused to catch her breath. Her words were short, but the sound of her swallowing air followed behind. It meant her side still ached deeply. Yet she didn't let her gaze blur.
"Fine. Then I owe the entire Medical Unit."
Sera snorted.
"That's a pretty big debt for a life."
Karen ignored that and spoke clearly to Ruan.
"When I recover, I'm staying here."
"Where?"
"By your side."
This time Sera openly stifled a laugh. Ruan's face became weary.
"Jokes like that aren't good on a battlefield."
"I'm not joking."
"You can't even walk yet."
Karen took a short breath in and slowly let it out. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead as if pain was rising. Still, her voice didn't waver.
"When I can walk."
"No."
"Why?"
"I'm not someone who needs a guard."
The moment those words ended, a sharp shout burst from outside the tent.
"Enemy straggler!"
The air changed instantly. The med tent was in the rear, but when the front lines pressed in, a stray enemy soldier occasionally popped up wasn't uncommon.
Two assistants stumbled back in surprise, and the tent flap at the entrance was roughly pushed open. A blood-soaked enemy soldier staggered inside.
In his hand was a short sword. His eyes were unfocused, but the beast-like drive to survive remained.
Sera gasped.
"Crazy."
Ruan's body moved first. He grabbed a short sword that had fallen to the floor. In that instant, Karen's gaze sharpened.
Ruan gripped the sword. But that was it.
His wrist stiffened. His upper arm froze as if locked, refusing to move forward. He could open wounds, touch blood, and stitch flesh.
But the moment he pointed the blade at a person, somewhere in his body seized up entirely. Even though the enemy soldier before him was staggering and badly wounded, Ruan's feet couldn't take a single step forward.
The enemy soldier leaned his body as if to charge with his sword.
That's when the sound of a stretcher being shoved harshly rang out, and Karen moved.
She was fast—unbelievably fast for someone who had been half-lying down just moments ago. She snatched the spear shaft propped against the stretcher beside her and first struck the enemy soldier's wrist. The short sword clattered to the ground.
Karen then twisted her body and drove the end of the spear shaft down into the enemy's neck, pressing it hard. The enemy soldier let out a choked sound and buckled at the knees. Finally, Karen aimed the spear shaft under his chin and stopped.
She didn't kill him. But her stance made it clear she could at any moment.
Silence fell over the tent.
Sera was the first to snap out of it.
"He's not dead. Call the guards. Quickly."
An assistant ran out. Ruan finally set down the sword. His palm was slick with cold sweat. Karen still kept the spear aimed as she looked at Ruan.
It was an evaluating gaze. And also a gaze quietly concluding what she had just confirmed.
"Someone who doesn't need a guard."
Ruan opened his mouth, then closed it. He had nothing to say.
Karen looked down at his still-rigid fingers for a moment, then said quietly.
"You have hands that save people. Not hands that cut people."
Sera muttered.
"You figured that out just now?"
Karen pretended not to hear. Instead, she put down the spear and tried to straighten up. At that moment, red bloomed beneath the bandage on her side. It was from overexerting herself just now. Ruan's face immediately hardened.
"Lie down again. Your wound has reopened."
"Then stitch it up."
She said it shortly, but her breath immediately became ragged. Cold sweat traced down her jawline. She gripped the edge of the stretcher tightly, enduring the pain. Seeing that reaction, Ruan didn't say more and immediately reached out.
"It's your body."
"So I decide."
"Right now, I decide. Because you're a patient."
Hearing that, Karen gave a very short laugh. The end of the laugh trembled, showing the pain was cutting deep. Still, she didn't stop talking.
"Fine. If I'm a patient, I'll listen. But when I recover, the story changes."
Ruan pulled out fresh bandages.
"What story?"
"The story that you need someone by your side who holds a sword."
Sera quietly stepped back with an empty water jug. Her face showed she knew from experience that getting involved in this kind of thing would be troublesome.
Outside, soldiers ran up and dragged the enemy soldier away. Inside the tent, only the smell of blood and damp cloth remained. Ruan, with a face that said further argument was pointless, reopened the side wound to examine it. One stitch had torn a little, but fortunately the inner layer hadn't opened.
Each time the needle pierced flesh, Karen's fingers gripped the stretcher edge tightly. Those hands were the same hands that had pressed down on the enemy's neck moments ago. The hands of someone who wields a sword.
Ruan suddenly thought. On the battlefield, there are people who wield their swords well, and people who wield their hands well. The problem is when those two aren't the same person.
Ruan looked down at his own hands for a moment. Hands that, until just now, couldn't even push a sword handle forward.
The fact that those hands couldn't stop an enemy, yet moved faster than anyone whenever standing before a wound, felt oddly shameful.
But there was no time to hold onto that shame for long.
In this tent, embarrassment was always pushed aside.
Karen seemed to read that mood and paused for a moment. Despite her face being pale from pain, her gaze was strangely calm.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of."
Ruan looked up.
"Even hands that can't wield a sword are needed by someone. No, some hands are needed even more because of that."
A brief pause followed those words as she caught her breath. Karen squeezed the stretcher edge once more before finally releasing the tension. Even that small movement showed how much pain she was in, but oddly, her words lingered longer than the pain.
When the stitching was about halfway done, Karen spoke quietly.
"My life came back through your hands. A debt must be repaid. That's how I was taught."
Ruan answered without even looking up.
"We don't accept that kind of debt here."
"You don't have to accept it. I'll repay it on my own."
"It's not needed."
Karen swallowed a short breath. It was hard to tell if it was from pain or laughter.
"I need it."
After that one word, she didn't try to say more. Her body was already at its limit. Sweat beaded on her forehead, glistening in the lamp light. Yet her gaze never left Ruan until the end. It was the face of someone who pushed harder with expression and eyes than with words.
After the commotion outside settled a bit, Bern approached and glanced at the bandage, then spoke.
"It was good that you subdued him without killing."
Karen replied indifferently.
"There was no need to kill."
"That judgment is often harder."
It was a short exchange, but Sera didn't add any joke. Because that single line was enough to show what kind of battlefields Karen had walked through.
When the stitching was done, Ruan covered the wound with a fresh cloth and placed a bottle of painkiller beside her.
"If the pain gets bad, chew half of this."
Karen's eyes fell on the bottle.
"What if I chew all of it?"
"You'll pass out."
The corner of Karen's mouth lifted just slightly.
"Good. That's more trustworthy than telling me to rest."
Ruan stared at her as if she was ridiculous. Karen was still drenched in cold sweat, and her breathing wasn't fully steady. Yet her gaze was clearer than before.
"Permission can come later. But I've already made my decision. You need someone by your side who wields a sword. So I'll take that spot."
Ruan couldn't reply. That wasn't a joke or a momentary impulse. It was the kind of conclusion someone who had endured long on the battlefield makes.
As the sun began to set, Sera muttered quietly while holding an empty water jug.
"This is trouble. Now we've got a sword-wielder and a bandage-wielder stuck together as a set."
Ruan said with a tired face.
"I objected."
Karen answered with her eyes closed.
"I heard the objection. I haven't heard an acceptance yet."
Sera finally burst out laughing. Only Ruan couldn't laugh.
The mysterious knight Karen truly wasn't the type to leave easily.