A Gentle Nurse
In the past, Chester had seen a butler with a horribly bruised arm. Apparently, one of the nobles had beaten his arm mercilessly with a cane just because he was in a bad mood. The terrifyingly swollen arm had turned black and blue, but the butler had claimed he couldn't feel any pain and that it would heal on its own if left alone. And then, not long after, he had to have his arm amputated because the stagnant, pooled blood inside had rotted, taking the rest of the limb with it.
"Aaaagh! Aaahhh!!!"
Not only Monia, who was watching, but even Chester himself, who had just gouged his own wound, felt his mind go completely blank for a second. The shock was that agonizing. But he couldn't just gouge it and sit still.
"Urrgh! Aaaaargh!!"
The veins in Chester's neck bulged as he let out a scream that was half pain, half battle cry. Gripping the claw knife that was still buried in his wound, he forced strength into his trembling hand, which hesitated at the anticipation of the oncoming agony. *Squelch!* He ripped the claw knife straight out.
"Krrgh...!!"
His eyes rolled back. It hurt—truly, deeply, excruciatingly. But he couldn't stop. To put it simply, this swollen, blackened wound meant that dead blood had pooled inside. If it were only a tiny amount of dead blood, like a dark purple bruise, it would eventually fade on its own if left alone. But this was not something that could be resolved like that. If left untreated, the rotting blood inside would ravage his body further. Therefore, he had no choice but to resort to this extreme measure.
"Haaah! Ssshh! Haaah! Haaah! Ssshh! Haaah!"
Taking several ragged, deep breaths, Chester grabbed his swollen thigh with his bare hands.
"Aaaaaaaargh!!!"
Screaming until his breath cut out, he began to squeeze his swollen thigh. *Gush!* The stagnant, blackened dead blood began to pour out, accompanied by large, dark clots.
"Aaaaaagh!!"
How long had he been squeezing? After expelling a torrent of dead blood and clots through the incision made by the claw knife, Chester panted as his horribly swollen thigh finally shrank back to its near-normal size. His eyes were glazed from the sheer agony and the psychological horror of having inflicted such pain upon himself. His recently recovered body was once again drenched in sweat, his chest heaving violently.
'Damn it! I'm going to die! Now I understand why prisoners sentenced to flogging die after only a few lashes!'
Even without a fatal wound, a person could die from sheer pain alone. Chester realized this firsthand. Collapsing in a cold sweat, he stared at the thigh wound, which was now bleeding clean, red blood. Forcing his barely responsive limbs to move, he picked up his trousers and wrapped them tightly around his thigh to apply pressure.
"Haaah... ah."
Having finished everything that urgently needed to be done, Chester finally relaxed, collapsing onto the ground as his eyes drifted shut.
"..."
Only then did Monia, who had been half-dazed by a spectacle her mind could barely comprehend, snap back to reality.
"Ah."
The sight of the blood and clots Chester had expelled, along with their metallic, fishy stench, made her head spin again. No matter how strong her stomach had become, that strength had only been tested on killing and butchering wild beasts. Watching the precious, beloved man who meant the world to her scream in agony, gouge his own flesh, squeeze it, and spill his blood was entirely different. It was more than she could bear.
Looking at Chester, who had fallen into an exhausted sleep, Monia wept silently, holding her breath for fear that the sound of her crying might wake him. After shedding countless tears, she approached him with watery eyes and gently embraced him, taking utmost care not to touch his wound. Chester's face was buried against her ample chest.
"I'm sorry," Monia whispered, stroking his hair as she held him close. "It's because I'm weak that you had to push yourself like this, isn't it?"
Chester would never take risks without a reason. Just like when he risked diving into the depths of the lake because they absolutely needed the machete, he only put himself in danger when it was absolutely necessary. That meant he had a reason to fight the bear. And if Monia had to guess, the reason was her.
The heavy emotions that had vanished from her chest the moment she saw the dead bear and the victorious, surviving Chester—anxiety, fear, helplessness, worry... all those negative feelings. Chester had undoubtedly done something so reckless just to rid her of them.
"I will become stronger."
She had strived to get revenge. She had strived to earn Chester's praise. And now, she would strive for Chester. For the first time in her life, Monia harbored a desire to do something entirely for someone else.
Perhaps his body was utterly spent. Chester had to sleep for a much longer time to recover than he had after his fight with the Ant-wolves. When he finally opened his eyes well past lunchtime, the first thing he saw was Monia preparing meat from the game she had retrieved from the traps. She had washed away the blood and dirt in the river, fed the entrails to Ant, and carved the meat off the bones. Now, she was sprinkling salt and pepper over it, preparing it for smoking.
Doing so much work alone without Chester took a long time, but she had managed to complete the daily chores by herself. On top of that, she had also taken care of Chester. Though the sleeping Chester had no idea, it was Monia who had cooled his body with water when he ran a high fever, groaning and tossing in his sleep. It was also Monia who had replaced the moss bed stained with his blood with fresh, clean moss. She had untied the makeshift bandage on his leg, wrapped it with a clean cloth, and tended to the wounds that kept reopening and bleeding as he thrashed in his sleep.
She had actively put into practice the knowledge she had gained from watching Chester administer first aid and treat his torn palms. Keeping the surroundings clean, boiling cloths in hot water to sterilize them, and constantly washing the wounds with clean water—she had learned all of it by watching him.
"Oh, you're awake?" Monia spoke casually upon seeing Chester open his eyes. "We caught quite a few rabbits in the traps today. There weren't any fish in the basket, though. I figured it was about time to change the bait, so I did."
She chatted about her morning while briskly seasoning the meat with salt and pepper. She even sprinkled chili powder on a few pieces for a change of flavor. Though Chester had developed the chili powder to use as a weapon, Monia enjoyed using it in her cooking, claiming it added a wonderful kick.
"..."
Chester listened quietly to Monia's chatter, his body still feeling heavy and exhausted despite his long sleep. After finishing the prep work, Monia took the meat outside to the smoking kiln, then returned to the shelter.
"Are you hungry?" she asked.
Chester decided to quietly accept her hospitality.
"Yeah..."
A terribly raspy, cracked voice escaped his throat.
"A-are you okay?!"
Monia gasped, startled. Chester offered a weak smile and pointed toward the water canteen. Monia quickly brought it over, and Chester took careful sips while lying down. Once his throat was cleared, he sighed, "Ah, I feel alive again."
"You scared me."
"My body was burning up, and I hadn't had water in a long time. That's all."
"Just tell me whenever you want a drink."
With that, Monia quickly began preparing a meal.
"What are you making?"
"Hmm, something easy for you to eat!"
The dish Monia decided to make was dumplings. It was a simple, rustic version—mincing various ingredients and wrapping them in a dough made from ground grain. Through her various culinary experiments, Monia's cooking skills had improved by leaps and bounds. She went down into the cellar connected to the shelter, retrieved a small jar of grain flour, scooped out what she needed, added water, and kneaded the dough. Then, she finely minced some meat she had set aside from the smoking prep, chopped some vegetables, and mixed them together to make the filling.
Monia didn't actually know the proper way to make dumplings. She was simply replicating the ones she had eaten in the past. To her recollection, a dumpling was nothing more than a 'filling' of various minced ingredients wrapped in a 'skin' made of flour. Of course, considering the rich, complex flavors that burst with every bite back when she was a noblewoman, she knew it must require advanced culinary techniques and a delicate blend of countless ingredients she couldn't even begin to imagine. She couldn't replicate that. Nor did she intend to.
Once the dumplings were shaped, she had to decide how to cook them. She recalled the royal chef mentioning various cooking methods. They could be pan-fried or boiled. The chef had personally recommended steaming as the tastiest method, but...
'Boiling is the way to go.'
Monia filled a pot with water and dropped the dumplings in.
'Would they taste better if I boiled them in something other than plain water?'
No, better not.
'It would be terrible if I messed around and ruined them. I should experiment with that later.'
Abandoning any further culinary risks, Monia finished boiling the dumplings and approached Chester.
"What is it?"
"I'm going to make it easier for you to eat."
Saying so, Monia gently lifted Chester's head and placed it softly onto her lap. Chester felt the soft, supple warmth of Monia's thighs against the back of his head. Looking slightly upward, his gaze met the prominent curve of her chest. Monia gently stroked his hair as his head rested on her lap, then scooped up a dumpling with a bamboo spoon, blowing on it to cool it down. Once she was sure it was cool enough, she smiled.
"Here, say ahhh~"
"..."
Chester silently accepted the dumpling offered to him.
'I feel like I'm being treated like a baby.'
As he quietly chewed, Chester's face flushed so red it was almost unrecognizable.