Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: The Night the Savior Fled
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"C-Captain. Suddenly, that lieu-lieu-tenant..."
The soldier who burst into Dever's tent was completely dazed. His face flushed red as he tried desperately to explain something quickly, but unfortunately, his mouth just wouldn't keep up.
"Was it something worth skipping the chain of command to run straight to me?"
Unlike the urgent soldier, Dever didn't seem remotely curious about what it was about.
The young soldier, whose boyish face suited him better than man, had been standing guard at the isolation room entrance until just moments ago. A lowly private with no real combat experience, only hospital security duty, had no reason to seek out the army commander in charge.
Tears welled up in the soldier's eyes, more boy than young man.
"B-Big trouble. If you don't come, he'll k-kill the n-nurse."
"What?"
A reflexive question slipped from Dever's lips, something he rarely did.
Night. Beth.
Dever's hand shot out and seized the soldier by the scruff of the neck. Like a rabbit caught by a hunter, the soldier was dragged along as Dever stormed out of the tent.
"Explain."
"I heard a noise and looked in, and the lieutenant suddenly started th-threat-threatening the nurse, saying only you should come and no one else."
With a sigh, Dever's brows furrowed.
So that's why he wouldn't wake up no matter what.
His teeth ground together at the thought that the bastard had been plotting this nonsense.
A Nexus Royal Guard veteran. Having watched Dever up close for years, he couldn't possibly be ignorant of his fate.
Of all times, the dead of night, with only one lowly guard on duty—he must have thought the heavens were aiding him. And then, Beth.
Before he knew it, Dever was running. The trailing guard soldier had long been left behind.
The only sound in the quiet hospital corridor was Dever's ragged breathing. Compared to the dire situation the teary-eyed soldier had described, the hospital looked no different from when Dever had passed through it earlier.
The creak of the worn wooden floor under military boots echoed like screams in the darkness. Veins bulging on Dever's hand, he silently drew the pistol from his waist.
Click.
The doorknob turned slowly with a dull thud as it opened. And there, just as Dever had imagined, the scene unfolded before his eyes.
The awakened lieutenant and the terrified Beth.
Exactly the worst-case scenario he'd pictured.
As Dever quietly closed the door again, the lieutenant's split lips twisted. His face, crusted with blood in spots, was grotesque.
"You seem awfully relaxed, Duke Dever."
The man had even discarded the title of captain.
"What do you want?"
Dever's flat voice, mismatched to the situation, dispersed dryly. It sounded almost annoyed, laced with irritation.
Beth struggled to wrench free from the lieutenant's grip on her throat. It had taken less than a minute for things to escalate this far.
As she'd approached to apply gauze, the lieutenant had suddenly attacked. With his one good hand, he throttled her slender neck and in an instant drew the pistol from his apron pocket, pressing it to her head.
'A mute like you hearing that name, and thinking luck was on your side.'
From the moment he'd regained consciousness, the man's mind had been consumed with survival. When Dever burst in and he'd drawn his dagger, his end was plain as day—but that one glimmer of hope had been the nurse.
Even rolling on the floor in agony, he'd seen it clearly. How the duke reacted to that pathetic woman's actions.
Not to Arthur's extent, but he'd lived studying Dever like a book. The Duke Dever he'd observed—no, obsessively analyzed—wasn't one to change his ways for a mere woman.
But thanks to today's sole exception, he'd kept his one remaining eye. The instinct that he might survive and return home if he played it right had flashed through his mind.
Madness seeped into the man's face, devoured by the terror of death.
"Hand me over to the Kovah Army. Then I'll let this woman live."
A deal worth trying. A flicker of confident certainty passed over his one good eye.
"Why should I?"
Beth's bloodshot eyes turned to Dever. The army commander tilted his head as if listening to boring small talk.
Only then did the numerous rumors about Dever flash through Beth's mind. How ruthless, cruel, and obsessed with war he was. Even in this hostage situation, calculating gains and losses fully backed those rumors.
Maybe to that man, her life was utterly worthless.
The final thought that surfaced completely sealed Beth's already constricted airway. She thrashed with all her might. She wanted to live so desperately.
"You think I'm joking? Do I need to blow this woman's head off for you to snap out of it?!"
The frenzied man tightened his arm further and shoved the barrel closer.
With fear compounded by the pressure on her throat, tears streamed from Beth's eyes against her will.
Dever stared at the wriggling woman. His slightly furrowed eyes showed no trace of pity or hesitation.
"Damn it!"
Deciding to up the ante, the lieutenant fired into the air. The explosive crack of the bullet slamming into the ceiling shattered the hospital's silence.
"Next is the woman. Choose. Send me off, or kill her."
Soldiers would swarm here soon. That wasn't in the lieutenant's calculations. The more people, the worse for him.
But this woman was here. He couldn't have misread it. To save her, they wouldn't approach rashly.
Through the small window in the door, lights grew brighter. The sound of running boots drew near, and soon the isolation room door flew open on both sides.
"What the—"
Arthur, at the front of the group, froze in shock. As soldiers grasped the situation and raised their guns, the terrified lieutenant let out a hysterical scream.
"Just try putting a finger on the trigger! This woman dies right then too!!"
"What are you doing, Lieutenant Solent! Let the woman go. We can negotiate this."
"Negotiate? Hilarious. Send me back to my country. Alive. Then I'll release her. But until I cross over, she stays glued to me. Can't trust you Nexus bastards."
For a split second, hesitation crossed Arthur's face. It was an absurd demand, but not entirely unreasonable.
A spy to Nexus, but the scion of a high noble in his homeland Kovah. Intel had come late afternoon that he was the Kovah army commander's nephew. They obviously wanted him back. Nobles treasured their bloodlines like gold.
In this cold standoff staring down the enemy, risking a few lives to send him across the front lines was feasible.
Arthur turned to Dever, but his expression was serene, as if seeing a different scene altogether. Stubborn bastard. Arthur ruffled his own hair roughly in frustration. Impatient alternatives spilled out.
"Dever, hand him over to Kovah. He was under my command; I'll ensure he's—"
"Why bother?"
Arthur's face turned bewildered as his words cut off. Then his thick golden brows twisted.
No way. He pictured the worst move Dever might make.
"Kill her."
"What?"
"Kill that woman."
Beth doubted her own ears. Yet even through tear-blurred vision, the words echoing in her ears were cruelly vivid.
A command to kill her. Spoken lightly, as if her life wasn't even worth considering as an opportunity cost.
Beth choked up again, fresh tears spilling as her dreaded judgment proved correct.
How had she survived this far? How had she fled all the way here?
The ruthless voice, oblivious to Beth's unheard pleas, rang out again.
"You have two bullets. You just fired one. You know how many are left. Choose. Kill that woman and die by my hand, or end it yourself."
The lieutenant's eye scanned Arthur and Dever. Even the prince couldn't counter the army commander's iron order. He sensed the board turning against him.
"This is my negotiation."
The final word. A mercy of sorts—since death was inevitable, at least without further torment.
The man's arm around Beth's throat began to tremble. Curses muttered like a madman pierced her ears. From some point, his ragged breaths conveyed not fear, but rage.
Get it together, Beth Jens.
Amid her fading consciousness, Beth snapped herself awake. She'd endured pathological rage and violence aplenty. Those who'd crushed her life had been the same.
Beth struggled to open her airway somehow. Breathing was still hard, but the man's guard was down compared to before. He'd felt her resistance once already; even with one hand, he knew he could subdue her.
And now, his focus was solely on negotiating with the beast before him, not the mouse in his grasp. If cornered further, he'd snap and pull the trigger in fury.
Even the cold barrel at her temple had warmed from prolonged contact with her skin.
Time was short. Pure intuition told her so.
Through her blurring-then-clearing vision, she saw a familiar man's face. Amid the gathered crowd, gray eyes stared only at her, unwavering with stubborn resolve.
Dever's gaze, fixed on the woman, shifted to the window behind her.
The hotel conversion meant every room above this floor had windows. To prevent escapes, isolation was on the fourth floor, but it would take time for a sniper to climb silently to window height without noise.
Dever was waiting for that moment. The lieutenant's desperate survival frenzy was perfectly buying him time, fitting right into Dever's plan.
Through the window, past barren tree branches, the sniper's face appeared. A faint smile ghosted Dever's lips.
"Shoot."
A taunt to the lieutenant, a signal to the subordinate outside.
"You crazy son of a—!"
As the sniper's trigger pulled, Dever was certain of victory. Time was always on his side, and so was triumph.
Two ear-shattering gunshots rang out.
Dever's eyes shifted to the sky-blue nurse uniform staining red. The woman's face, always pale to the point of pallor, was now covered entirely in blood.
"Beth!"
Madam Molly screamed, shoving through the crowd and charging forward. Somewhere, another voice seemed to call Beth's name.
The woman in dark red clothes collapsed to the floor.
Dever's eyes slowly took in the entire unfolding scene.
The planned shot was a single bullet.
The plan had failed.