Opening his eyes, the first thing Ves saw was the soft orange glow of the crystal lamp.
It had become a habit since coming to this world: when traveling, there was no luxury of lingering in bed.
His consciousness immediately cleared as he propped himself up on the bed, which still carried a faint fragrance.
Glancing around, it was obvious this was a sleeping quarter fit for someone of considerable status.
The furniture was neatly arranged; beyond the usual desk, chair, and stool, a bookshelf stood by.
Everything followed a minimalist style, eschewing extravagance in favor of practicality.
The owner of this place must be a very serious person.
However, the beige surroundings weren’t walls—they were fabric.
(It must be some kind of tent…)
Ves got off the bed and flexed his limbs slightly to check his physical condition.
He had been injured before, after all, mercenary work always involved some bumps and bruises.
But even so, being pierced through the shoulder and chest like this was a first.
It was hard not to think, “How am I still alive?”
Ves loosened a few buttons and tugged at his collar.
“All right… must have been healed with magic or spiritual arts.”
Recalling how he had just breathed a sigh of relief before being ambushed by the leftover Disaster Breath from the Evil Form, he felt a trace of lingering unease.
“Ah… you’re awake!”
At the sound of a surprised voice, a young female soldier stepped in through the half-drawn tent flap.
She wore a highly recognizable standard uniform, her shoulder patch stamped with the Golden Lion Crest.
The symbol of the Caesar Dynasty.
“…Kingdom Army?” Ves asked instinctively, eyeing her closely.
The current location was the Felnan Domain, bordering the Mane Sun Empire and adjacent to the Holy Covenant Kingdom.
Encountering soldiers from neighboring countries was not uncommon.
But the female soldier didn’t answer directly.
She seemed to have more urgent orders and quickly turned to hurry outside, calling out, “Quick, report to the Soldier Captain! The gentleman we brought back last night is awake!”
Then she turned back, offering a serious yet respectful salute:
“Please wait a moment. The Soldier Captain will be here shortly.”
It sounded less like a suggestion and more like an announcement.
With that, she withdrew in routine fashion.
Ves sat waiting by the bedside.
Before long, hurried footsteps approached, and the tent flap opened again.
A dignified golden-haired woman, shimmering like sand-gold, entered his view.
Her delicate features seemed fragile enough to break at a touch, exquisite and cold.
Rather than a noble’s doll, she looked more like a fairy or elf from a fairy tale.
Her striking emerald eyes were so clear and pure that Ves involuntarily gasped.
Her slender brows were motionless, expression calm and composed—a beautiful young woman.
(—It’s her, no doubt.)
Ves swallowed hard.
Until now, all the Wishing draws he had made—white, blue, or purple—had at best been items or props.
Never a living person—much less a girl.
The girl immediately came to the bedside.
Her cold aura and indifferent expression gave an untouchable sense of distance.
Yet on closer inspection, Ves caught a glimpse of worry shining through those emerald eyes.
“Do you feel all right?”
Her voice was cold, but the tone soft.
Despite a slight furrowed brow that stiffened her expression, it did nothing to diminish her icy beauty.
More than a coquettish smile, she suited a stately, clear, and serious gaze.
In this world, magic and spiritual power affected one’s appearance, a kind of “appearance born from the heart.”
Ves had already seen plenty of handsome men and beautiful women.
Yet none could compare to the military beauty before him.
“You were injured last night. Although treated with healing magic, the leftover Disaster Breath from the Evil Form may still have some effect. If you feel any discomfort, tell me immediately.”
Caught off guard by the unexpected concern, Ves found his throat suddenly dry.
Since coming to this world, few had ever cared for him so earnestly.
The Bartender Lady in the main city was one—though her concern was professional, extended to everyone.
But this girl—
(Considering the minimum guaranteed summon I got, I should be her “master,” so it makes sense she’s concerned for me?)
He gave a tired smile.
“This time, I’m really fine. Thank you—by the way, may I be so bold as to ask your name? I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
“My name is…”
The girl’s thin lips parted slightly, a trace of loneliness appearing in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by calm as she spoke softly,
“Lortissa.”
“—Ah?!”
Ves’s eyes widened immediately.
Lortissa was a type of flower in this world, often used as a magical herb, usually brownish-black in color.
But in this borderland domain, when someone mentioned that name, the first reaction was—
“The Soldier Captain of the Kingdom Army… the Golden Lortissa?!”
Ves was no different; the words slipped out involuntarily.
She had risen to fame in less than two years, starting from the lowest soldier rank.
Through solid battle achievements, she set a record for miraculous rapid promotion.
She was recognized as the strongest Soldier Captain among all past and present Kingdom Army captains.
Among the borderland residents and mercenaries, many had been cared for by her and her troops, so she was highly respected in the local populace.
It was truly unbelievable—the legendary figure spoken of among borderland mercenaries was right before him.
(So… the strongest Soldier Captain of the Holy Covenant Kingdom is my little guaranteed summon?!)
Ves raised his gaze slightly.
Judging by her appearance, she looked no older than seventeen or eighteen.
Westerners tended to mature early; she might even be younger.
But whether it was the fist that had repelled the Soul-devouring True Lord last night or the aura of sharp authority she carried, there was no doubt.
This was the genuine “Golden Lortissa.”
Perhaps from disbelief, Ves momentarily lost his words.
When he came back to himself and saw the girl’s expressionless gaze, he returned his usual social smile.
“Sorry, I was just a little too surprised. Please forgive me.”
“Please don’t worry about it.”
Lortissa’s tone was indifferent, yet somehow she conveyed a sense of no social distance between them.
In fact, there was an unexpected warmth.
“By the way—”
Suddenly, as if recalling something, she reached into the Magic Pouch at her waist and placed several items on the nearby table.
“These all belong to you, right?”
There were the equipment bag, chest armor, leather armor, wrist guards…
—All of these were his personal gear?
Probably taken off to facilitate treatment, Ves carefully sifted through and confirmed.
Not only the armor but even the Loyal Spirit Blade, shattered down to the hilt, had been recovered.
Everything had been properly repaired and cleaned.
(Really thoughtful…)
Ves was about to thank her when his eyes suddenly stopped.
Why was there an extra cloak?
Mercenaries weren’t aristocratic rangers or night-assassins; ordinary cloaks usually got damaged in battle before they were worn out, so they weren’t typically chosen as armor.
But this cloak was different.
The neatly folded black fabric subtly shimmered with golden specks only Ves could see.
—It was the light from Wishing.
Like it was constantly asserting its presence.
The golden gleam flowing over the black cloak seemed to be shouting at him—
“This is your real little guaranteed summon!”