🔊 TTS Settings
CHAPTER 02
Wellington Medical Base sometimes feels like a third zone.
It could almost be seen as the only place granted peace in the middle of the battlefield.
However, the principles by which this absurd facility operates are more complicated than they seem.
The Marquis of Weltington is a clear pacifist—but he is still a noble of Edelrin.
Anyone who is not a fool can tell that the king tacitly tolerates and supports this facility.
The king must have his reasons and objectives.
— Recorded by Chloe Libertà at the Second Front.
On the day of the large-scale explosion, Chloe lost many of her comrades.
Confirming the dead and transporting the stranded survivors were already dangerous tasks. But what made that day especially devastating was that it was the first time in six months they had experienced fire magic up close.
Alvin.
That was the name of the man who had survived the edge of death alongside Chloe—written down by his own hand during the investigation.
Not long ago, Chloe had subtly asked for his intentions. The incident from before had been bothering her. The uniform he wore looked too out of place to be mixed among Edelrin soldiers.
“Let me arrange for your bed to be moved to your side.”
“……”
“Of course, only if a space opens up.”
“It doesn’t matter. Anywhere is fine.”
“…If that’s what you want.”
Still… we did go to the gates of hell together.
Chloe found his reaction unexpectedly dry. She even wondered if he might be suffering from memory loss. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers who had endured major trauma to lose parts of their memory.
And as for Alvin—was this fortunate or unfortunate for him? He and the other Pitzmark soldiers were moved to new beds sooner than expected. Space had opened up due to the deaths of those previously under treatment.
Chloe had come to inspect the Pitzmark ward after finishing her rounds in the Edelrin section. When inside the base, she would change bandages for lightly injured soldiers or clean when she had time. Even so, the facility was always understaffed, and cleanliness was never maintained as well as it should have been.
She picked up pieces of cloth from the floor—what had once been clothing, now nearly reduced to rags after doctors cut them apart with scissors during emergency treatment.
As she continued filling her basket with discarded fabric, she straightened her back briefly—and let out a hollow laugh. Something had caught her eye.
“I wonder where he even got that.”
Chloe looked at Alvin with an incredulous expression. The enemy soldier, sitting half-upright, was doing something strange.
He was shaving.
“In the middle of a war, and there’s someone here who irons his pants.”
He looked so composed it was almost as if he were at home.
Though it wasn’t common, Chloe approached him without particular intent and spoke first.
“What are you doing?”
Still sitting at an angle as if his body wasn’t fully recovered, Alvin looked at her.
“Something was bothering me.”
“You do know weapons are prohibited inside this facility, right?”
That was a rule even Edelrin soldiers had to follow until they left the base. Still, in practice, it was the kind of rule people bent quietly. Chloe knew very well that few would be strict about something as small as a blade the size of a finger.
She changed the subject.
“Look, I’m not exactly trying to hear an apology or anything like that.”
“……”
“But isn’t it fine to at least say thank you to each other?”
Alvin stopped what he was doing and stared at her. Even with his face still slightly unkempt, his sharp composure was unmistakable.
“What do I have to apologize for, and what do I have to be grateful for?”
“You used force against a civilian first. And if you’d stayed there, you would’ve died from blood loss.”
He looked as if her words were absurd. A faint expression appeared on his previously calm face. Alvin narrowed his eyes slightly, then smiled faintly before speaking.
“Before that, aren’t you going to acknowledge that you put another hole in my body?”
It wasn’t exactly a “hole”—a fragment had grazed his hand while he instinctively shielded himself. But Alvin added:
“And the one that was already there feels like it got bigger.”
“……”
“While I was rolling around holding you.”
Chloe nodded silently. She had no intention of demanding gratitude or apologies. She simply wanted to confirm that his memory was intact.
Satisfied, she set down her basket and looked at Alvin’s neatly arranged figure before rummaging through her pocket.
“Take your clothes off for a second.”
“……”
Alvin looked at her for a long moment. He seemed to be thinking. Then, as if unable to find an answer in her expression, he scanned the room once—and began unbuttoning his shirt without a word.
His taut chest and sharply defined muscles gradually came into view. The bandages wrapped around his waist were stained with dried blood. Just as Chloe was about to pull out a fresh bandage—
Alvin’s hand moved to his belt buckle.
He looked at her again, as if asking whether she intended to keep watching.
What is he doing?
Chloe frowned in confusion. And when he started to unbuckle his belt, she reflexively hopped back.
“W-why are you taking off your pants?!”
He looked far too clean-cut and gentlemanly to be doing something like this—was he actually a pervert?
Chloe stared at him in disbelief, but Alvin remained silent for a long time. Eventually, he pointed at the basket she had set down.
“…Wasn’t that for laundry?”
“…This is trash. And why would I wash your clothes?”
Of course, she sometimes handled items when a patient’s hygiene risked others’ health. But what was in the basket now wasn’t clothing—it was already shredded waste.
Chloe brushed her short-cropped hair back and glanced at him again.
She had already seen enough nearly naked male bodies here to grow tired of it. Most of it was for treatment, though there were also plenty of shameless patients who simply slept that way. Nothing about it was new.
She had long since learned that “discipline defines soldiers” was a complete lie. Still, it was one thing to be used to it, and another to have someone start undressing right in front of her mid-conversation.
Chloe knelt slightly to unwrap a rolled bandage, her tone stiff in an attempt to stay composed.
“I was just going to change your bandage. Everyone’s busy, so unless it’s critical, we don’t really have time to look closely.”
A moment later, his calm voice came from behind her head.
“Right.”
“……”
“Thanks for letting me keep my pants on.”
That faint sound of air escaping was definitely the same suppressed laugh from before.
Chloe responded by tightening the bandage with a silent expression that clearly said “just die.” He let out a low groan of pain. She paused, then tied it more carefully.
When she stood back up, Alvin gave a slight nod in greeting. It was a rather understated gesture of thanks, but neither of them minded.
Alvin immediately picked up the blade he had set aside and resumed his interrupted task. He really did seem bothered by it.
Chloe found it strange and glanced over again.
But soon both of them froze at the same time, as if by agreement, silently looking at each other.
“…Have you ever shaved before in your life?”
Chloe asked quietly, studying the faint red line on his cheek. Her tone was half-tired, half-teasing—but he simply nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Left hand.”
“……”
“I’m right-handed.”
Chloe finally looked at the arm he had described as “having another hole.” She let out a late, suppressed laugh. Then she held out her palm.
“Then give it to me.”
When he didn’t hand it over immediately, she took the blade herself and leaned in again.
She concentrated fully. Unfortunately, the person sitting still did not. His lips kept moving as if he wanted to say something, his expression caught between a smile and a frown.
Eventually, he spoke.
“Do you do this for other soldiers too?”
“Why are you asking that?”
“I’m just saying it might be better if you didn’t go around doing things like this for everyone.”
Chloe, finding his tone odd, pulled back slightly and frowned.
“…So you’re just bad at saying thank you.”
“If that’s how you heard it, your comprehension is the problem.”
“……”
She straightened fully. Her pale face was smooth, but a coldness settled over it.
Nothing felt more insulting than being told she couldn’t understand context properly.
Even profanity would have been easier to tolerate.
She had no issue ignoring insults. In fact, she often remembered interesting ones and wrote them down. So if he was going to be unpleasant, he might as well swear properly.
At that moment—
“Even after seeing someone say something like that the other day, you still don’t understand what I’m saying?”
“……”
Chloe knew exactly what he meant. It was likely advice of some kind. But she pretended not to.
Just as she had not taken him seriously as a soldier, there was no need to revisit that topic.
She bent down again, grabbed his chin, and pulled his face toward her. The gesture was careful—but firmer than before.
“Just stay quiet. I’ve never shaved with either hand before.”
“……”
“And I have a tremor. If I don’t sleep, my hands shake the next day.”
That must have sounded genuinely threatening—because Alvin immediately fell silent.
Chloe nodded once in satisfaction and resumed her focus.
In truth, she was terrible at anything involving hands except playing instruments. Still, she did not blame the crude tools or harsh conditions. She concentrated fully.
The soft scraping sound felt strangely similar to writing.
And so, she completed her first successful attempt.
His now-clean jawline looked far more refined than before. Satisfied, she examined her work from side to side before placing the blade down and picking up the basket and bandages again.
“I’ve been here over half a year too. I understand what you mean.”
“……”
“And honestly… it does seem like you got hurt because of me. So I just did it.”
She avoided his gaze and turned away.
After watching her for a while, Alvin muttered,
“Seems like you’re the one who wanted to say thank you.”
He let the faintest smile appear and looked out the window.
The sun, once high overhead, had already begun to sink slightly.
Another day in the middle of a war came to an end.
