Vivian's Escort (6)
Day six of the monster hunt.
We had grown far too accustomed to this life.
The carts filled steadily with costly monster byproducts, and in equal measure, wounds and exhaustion piled up on our bodies. Whenever we found the time, we washed ourselves in the river and scrubbed away the blood, but the stench of it clung to us and refused to leave.
In the rare stretches of rest, the Disciplinary Unit soldiers collapsed wherever they stood, sleep-starved and spent. Then the scouts would locate a new pack of monsters, the order to advance would drop, and we would rise and go again.
Goblins, ogres, griffins—whatever monsters showed themselves in the region, we hunted them down as thoroughly as we could.
Now and then we caught sight of other knight orders. They, too, were growing filthy under the grind of unbroken combat. Of course, they were regular soldiers rather than boy conscripts like us, so they still looked cleaner by comparison—but they weren't hunting at a leisurely pace either. They were sweeping the countryside at a full sprint, and the fatigue was catching up to them just the same.
And the harder the schedule became, the stranger the phenomenon: Vivian's standing only rose higher.
Whether watching the fighting from horseback no longer sat well with her, or whether she felt responsible for every order she had given—whatever the reason, Vivian no longer looked like a noble daughter, the lord of Loktana, or the head of House Rondore. She looked like someone's maid.
Outfitted in gear like one of the boys, she scurried about in her disheveled state, tending to Disciplinary Unit soldiers too exhausted to lift a single finger.
"Valon, here's your meal."
"Urgh… no, Lady Vivian, you don't have to—"
"—Lie still. Use that breath to eat more instead. Duran, you too."
"Ah… oof…"
The boy soldiers, overwhelmed by the attention, sometimes answered with the flustered grunts of middle-aged men.
Vivian brought them meals, fetched medicine, and washed bandages. She had kept cooking beside me day after day until she had fully taken over the food. Perhaps it was because there were so few adults here, and the threat of assassination felt distant—she let her guard down more easily and drew closer to them. Sharing several nights of sleep and meals together had surely played its part as well.
"Willas, I washed your bandages. As for wrapping them… I'm afraid I might make a mistake, so…"
"Of course, of course. How could I possibly ask Lady Vivian to wrap my bandages for me? Just bringing them is more than enough… Ah—I'll devote my loyalty to you from this day forward. Truly."
She still could barely keep her eyes open before a brutal wound, but the effort she poured into everything was plain to see. And with that devotion, the praise directed at her only grew with each passing day.
This was already the sixth day of the expedition. More than enough time for true believers to be born.
Leaning on my greatsword, I watched Vivian bustle this way and that—and the whispers around me began to drift in.
"Lady Vivian… honestly… the gods aren't fair. How can someone that beautiful, that kind, and that powerful even exist?"
"…The gods are fair. They gave her all of that, then took her whole family away. You know how many assassination attempts there's been…"
"Ah… we have to protect her. Lifelong loyalty. I mean it…"
"…I was going to go back to my family once I'd paid my dues. But if I can stay on as a Rondore soldier, I will."
"…"
Watching all of it, my own feelings twisted into something strangely complicated.
How deeply must someone this kind have hated me, to carry that much rage for so long? Through this new face of hers, I felt myself measuring the true weight of her hatred.
I had always thought her temper was foul… but she had been capable of this kind of kindness all along.
And then our eyes met.
"…"
"…"
We looked at each other and said nothing. Hating the awkwardness, I tapped the bandage wrapped around my forehead.
"…You won't wash mine?"
The other boys' bandages were soft and white. Mine was black and red and stiff. I could have changed it myself if I'd wanted to—but for some reason I just kept waiting for Vivian to bring me a fresh one.
"…"
Vivian hesitated, then scowled and ignored me.
Ever since the hug, she had kept her distance like this. I let out a breath. There wasn't much I could say. Something must have possessed me that day—I still didn't understand why I'd done it. It was the kind of thing I occasionally did for my shivering younger siblings. How it had ended up directed at her, I couldn't begin to grasp.
"Idiot."
Martin said it. My comrades only smirked at me, as if they were tasting some strange little victory.
"What now, Kailo? She does it for me, but not for you."
"Yeah, well—who told you to be born the eldest son of the enemy house?"
"I wouldn't do a thing for that bastard Kailo either."
Even their jokes scraped raw against something inside me. Irritated, I stood and stepped toward them—and only then did they scramble to surrender.
"Ah, all right, all right. C-calm down, please. It was a joke."
"I-I'm exhausted. I don't have the strength to fight like this, okay?"
A few of them yawned theatrically and pretended to fall asleep.
"…Hah."
I exhaled through the inexplicable irritation and glanced at Vivian again. Even now she was carefully tending to everyone but me. I scratched my head hard, then shook it. Better to stop thinking about her and mind my own business.
Vivian's gaze kept drifting toward Kailo.
Days had passed since she put distance between them. Even among these awkward men, his side still felt the safest—and yet, after that embrace, simply approaching him had become impossibly hard. The moment she drew near, her heart hammered as if it would burst, and her mind went blank. Even standing in his vicinity was almost unbearable from the sheer awkwardness.
So she kept refusing to stay close.
The fact that she had lingered in his arms even after waking—and that Kailo had known it—was a humiliation beyond measure. Feeling warmth in the arms of the son of the man who had killed her father and brother… that alone delivered a crushing weight of guilt.
"…"
And still, Vivian could not tear her eyes from him. Especially not from the filthy bandage wrapped around his forehead. Truthfully, more than anything else, she wanted to change that bandage first. Dirty, grimy, unsanitary—it might even lead to infection—and it kept snagging on her vision.
It certainly wasn't concern for Kailo. She was simply a human being, and he had done something for her, and she wanted only to repay that much. But the moment she stepped close, the moment their eyes met, the memory of that embrace surged up and she could barely endure it. A tangle of fierce, complicated emotions shook her through and through.
She didn't even understand why Kailo refused to change the bandage himself. If he just took care of it before anyone said a word, it wouldn't bother her at all.
"…"
Vivian shook her head. It wasn't her business. What possible reason was there to care about a man like that? She'd be more at ease if he caught some disease and wasted away.
Time passed, and evening came. Before preparing the meal, Vivian took a few deep breaths. She would almost certainly be cooking close beside Kailo, and she needed to steel herself for it. She had maintained a wall of silence for days now—but there was no telling how today would go. If Kailo happened to speak first… perhaps then she could say something about that bandage.
"…Huh?"
But today, Kailo was not at the pot. In his place stood Willas, tall as a beanpole.
"Lady Vivian. R-rest, please. I'll handle it today."
Vivian looked around, then asked,
"…Where's Kailo?"
"He said he was tired, so he's resting first. He left the cooking to me."
"…Without eating?"
"Seems that way. Ah, don't worry. Skipping one meal won't kill him."
"…"
At those words, her own appetite seemed to drop away for no good reason. She could now check for poison in the food with a simple bit of witchcraft. And sharing meals with these boy soldiers meant the old wariness of poison had all but vanished. Even so—habit, perhaps—knowing Kailo wouldn't be eating left her with no desire for food either.
She had been running herself ragged looking after the boys as well. Maybe she would turn in early tonight.
Vivian scanned the camp. Finding Kailo was not difficult. That distinctive black hair, the red bear-head helm set beside him—both were easy to spot from anywhere. She approached and studied his face. He was deeply asleep, breathing soft and even.
"…"
With him unconscious, the usual awkwardness had nowhere to take hold. The lowered resistance let her crouch down near him. She sat like that for a long while, watching his face, then slowly moved her hand. Toward the filthy bandage on his forehead her fingers reached—and stopped—and reached again.
"…"
Then she came to her senses and shook her head. She settled some distance away, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep.
…But a strange irritation kept interrupting her rest. She couldn't name the reason, yet the fact that Kailo had left her behind—skipped the meal, gone to sleep first—sat wrong with her in a way she couldn't explain.
It was the final day of the expedition.
Every cart was full now; all that remained was the journey home. Casualties had mounted over the days, and some had dropped out—but from my unit, thankfully, only four had fallen away. We had finished the hunt at a proper pace and taken no catastrophic injuries. By any measure, the expedition had been a success.
"We're finally heading back."
"Just hold on a little longer… Lady Vivian said she'll reward us for our hard work once we return."
The rising spirits let me ease my own tension, bit by bit. All I wanted was to get back, wash properly, eat in peace, and sleep as long as I could.
Yawning, I took the reins of Vivian's horse the same as every other day.
—Thok.
Then Vivian's foot tapped the back of my head.
"…?"
I turned and looked up at her. But she had her face angled away, wearing a faintly angry expression, not even looking at me.
"What."
"…"
She didn't answer. Something had clearly soured her mood, but I had no idea what it was.
Since the hug that day, we hadn't spoken a word to each other. Nearly ten days of silence. No matter what I said, she wouldn't reply, and even meeting her eyes only made her look away. From day six onward I'd grown thoroughly tired of it and stopped paying her any mind.
Combat alone gave me more than enough to think about. Ogres, goblins—leading my unit left no room for some undefined standoff with Vivian. So after that, I didn't approach her. I didn't go out of my way to speak. I didn't check whether she was well, and I didn't seek her eyes. If I saw her I didn't actively avoid her, but I never stepped forward either.
With her standing among the boy soldiers so elevated, she was safe wherever she went. There was no real need for me to watch over her. I simply kept her farther away than usual—because she had wanted the distance.
And now, after I'd left her alone, she was picking a fight. It was almost absurd.
I shook my head and faced forward again. I hadn't taken more than a few steps before something struck the back of my head once more.
—Thok.
Vivian's foot, of course. I brushed the dirt from my hair and ignored her.
"…You bastard…"
A thin sound of irritation—and then she shoved the back of my head harder. That was enough. I snapped at her.
"Ah—what!"
At the shout, Vivian's lips moved, and at last she answered.
"I'm just annoyed with you…!"
"For god's sake."
I tossed the reins back toward Valon.
"Hey, Valon. You pull. Take this."
Vivian bristled.
"What? Hey—who said you could—!"
"Then let someone who isn't annoying pull it!"
"…"
I said it and walked on ahead. After a few strides, Valon edged up nervously and took the reins. When I glanced back, Vivian's face was full of a fury I couldn't begin to parse. It had been a very long time since she'd looked at me like that. Even so, I shook my head and dismissed it. Right now I just wanted to get back and rest.
Willas drew up beside me and asked quietly,
"…Hey. What's going on?"
"How should I know. She started it…"
—Whoosh…
In that instant, the world went dark—then bright again. Everyone in my unit stirred in confusion.
"…What was that just now?"
"Like a shadow…"
The realization hit me in the same breath that a desperate cry rose from Yanes's unit ahead.
"It's a dragon!!"
At that single shout, every soldier stopped dead and looked up at the sky. I did the same.
A colossal blue dragon was cutting through the air above us. Its enormous wings blotted out the sun and cast a shadow across the ground; its sharp scales gleamed with raw majesty.
"…Shit. What the hell is that…"
Martin muttered from somewhere nearby. The fear soaked into his whisper spoke for every one of us.
Then the dragon's vast roar rolled out across the sky. The boy soldiers screamed and clapped their hands over their ears, faces twisted with terror and awe. The cry of the dragon woke a primal dread deep in our chests.
And I, by instinct, looked for Vivian.
She, too, was frozen in fear—unable to tear her eyes from the enormous dragon overhead.