Only two people remained inside the tent.
Lortisa sat lightly on the edge of Vis’s bed, setting down all the medicine she had brought back—internal remedies, external applications, a whole pile of them, clinking and clattering as they filled the ground.
The bottles and jars reflected a faint glimmer in the dim tent.
She twisted open a jar of ointment, and the rich scent of herbs, mingled with the magic-infused aroma, instantly spread out.
Watching the young female Captain bustling about for his sake, Vis inevitably recalled what Fiya had said earlier.
Lortisa seemed especially attentive to him.
Whether that was just an illusion or not,
Now she was sitting right beside him, close enough that he could catch a faint fragrance from her hair.
No matter how he looked at it, it was impossible not to mind.
“Tourniquet, untie it.”
Lortisa spoke as she calmly mixed the medicines together.
“The Pilgrims and priests have all rushed to the front lines to help treat the other wounded soldiers. Instead of waiting for them, I just brought the medicine back myself.”
To be fair, the magical potions in this world really do work wonders.
Vis untied the bandages wrapped around his chest and glanced down.
The wound that had been run through by the knight’s sword formed by “Moon Silver” had already completely stopped bleeding, and the jagged edge was even starting to show a hint of healthy color.
Vis had heard plenty of old mercenaries in taverns boast that higher-tier healing magic could even revive someone to full strength on the spot.
Just like in games, one moment you’re gravely wounded, the next you’re up and ready to fight again.
For this reason, every organization with any fighting power in this world desperately sought healing talents.
From the royal armies and noble guards,
To the hunting bands and mercenary squads roaming the wilds.
A reliable “healer” could sometimes be more valuable than a top-tier fighter.
Vis always believed he acted with enough caution and planning.
But in mercenary work, plans never kept up with sudden changes.
There were always times when you had to risk it all.
Just like this time.
If Lortisa hadn’t arrived in time, the consequences would have been unthinkable.
Thinking about it, it’d be nice to have some backup healing methods himself.
Even if it wasn’t a living person—some high-efficiency healing item, like painkillers, would be good enough.
Vis undid his shirt at the chest, revealing a solid chest and the wound that had yet to fully heal.
He watched quietly as Lortisa used a cloth soaked in medicine to carefully clean the blood around his wound.
The girl’s movements were focused.
Even though the painkillers Vis had taken had long since worn off,
He didn’t feel the slightest discomfort as Lortisa applied the medicine.
Her touch was incredibly gentle,
The cool ointment on her fingertips felt mild and soothing as it spread across his skin.
Those emerald eyes were completely absorbed in the wound, her long lashes casting a delicate shadow beneath her eyelids.
At this moment, only the crisp uniform reminded one of her rank as Captain.
If not for the uniform, she’d be no different from the pretty, quiet girl-next-door.
Though, of course, she was a little colder than most.
(In truth…she really is a warmhearted person after all…)
Vis thought to himself with deep feeling.
“All done.”
Lortisa finished applying the medicine. Her clear voice brought Vis’s drifting thoughts back to reality.
Vis snapped back to himself, quickly speaking up:
“Thank you, sorry to trouble you again.”
“You’re fine, that’s what matters.”
Lortisa’s reply was as succinct as ever.
As she packed away the medicine bottles, she added another reminder:
“External wounds are easy, but you suffered a malignant injury, and one at a disaster-source level. The malignant aura still needs to be purged to prevent any hidden dangers. Later, I’ll arrange for a Pilgrim to perform a purification ritual just for you.”
Vis nodded.
She really was thorough.
In the past, mercenaries like Vis who suffered malignant wounds in battle, after routine treatment, had no choice but to go to the city’s grand cathedral for a complete purge.
Not only did they have to pay a hefty “donation,” but they also had to follow the cathedral’s set prayer days—Monday, Wednesday, Friday—and queue up with the other wounded awaiting purification.
The scene was like a busy market.
He didn’t expect that, in the army now, he’d get this kind of “VIP” treatment—he really owed Lortisa a lot for that.
Vis felt more and more like he was accumulating favors owed to her.
A subtle silence settled over the tent.
Suddenly, Lortisa spoke.
“How about…I go with you?”
She asked this as she tidied the bottles on the table, her tone casual, as if mentioning it in passing.
Vis instinctively looked up at her when he heard that.
(Is she…talking about going to Stillday Town?)
After all, he’d just agreed with Fiya about that. There didn’t seem to be any other reason she’d suddenly bring it up.
Thinking it over, Stillday Town was the center of the Eruption.
As Captain of the Royal Army, it made sense for her to want to see the disaster site herself.
As an official Captain, she couldn’t just cross the border into the Empire for an investigation openly.
But partnering with a mercenary, pretending to be a companion, was a common way to get by.
Vis didn’t think much of it and replied lightly,
“Sure. With you along, Tisa, I’d feel completely at ease.”
Lortisa’s hands, busy sorting bottles, suddenly paused.
She looked up, her emerald eyes fixed straight on him, reflecting Vis’s slightly surprised face.
She asked as if for confirmation:
“Really?”
Vis was a little confused by her reaction.
What was there to doubt?
It was just traveling to Stillday Town together, wasn’t it?
He replied as if it were only natural:
“As long as you want to, Tisa.”
Lortisa’s heart trembled.
She’d asked that question fully prepared to be refused.
She hadn’t expected Vis to agree so readily.
She had no ulterior motive.
She simply, literally, wanted to walk alongside Vis.
Just like that old proverb said:
If you can’t keep the clear stream, then go with the flow.
She had neither the right nor the reason to keep Vis in the army, to keep him by her side.
Since that was so, she would just follow him.
Just like when they first met in the disaster-stricken North.
Back then, wasn’t she also following behind him?
It was Vis who approached, who asked if she needed help, who reached out to her when she was near death.
Now it was her turn.
Her turn to guard the one who meant the most to her.
Her rank as Captain? That didn’t matter at all.
That identity only came about after they’d parted, when she joined the army just to search for him.
If she hadn’t confused soldier and mercenary at the time and blundered her way into being Captain, they might have reunited much sooner.
But now, none of that mattered,
She’d already found Vis.
Everything else was irrelevant.
For once, Lortisa showed a clear smile.
That smile bloomed on her cold face, brightening the dim tent in an instant.
“Then it’s settled.”
Vis was momentarily dazed by her expression.
It was as if he saw a sea of flowers blooming brilliantly on a sunlit hillside.
Even here, at the desolate border valley where war had just ended and the world outside the tent was still bleak and chaotic.
At this moment, the girl before him seemed to shine with a warmth full of happiness.
Watching Lortisa leave, that gentle smile still on her face, Vis didn’t recover for a long time.
Not until the alert from his phone pulled him back to reality.
He’d left his screen unlocked after checking Fiya’s messages, so the notification didn’t arrive silently; it lit up the display right away.
Vis picked up his phone in confusion.
A popup from “Wish” had appeared on the screen:
*
Received “Wish Points +5”