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CHAPTER 09
Chloe was completely focused on what was about to happen. Because of that, she didn’t even notice Alvin’s gaze as sharply as she normally would have. Even if she had, with so many people watching, she wouldn’t have greeted him anyway.
Chloe and her group were heading toward the site of the battle that had taken place a few days earlier. A large number of Edelinne soldiers had already returned to their units, and many Pitzmark soldiers had died—so this was a natural procedure.
However, the group was more tense than ever. It was because of the fear they had experienced regarding fire magic. Its power made Chloe and the others question one thing:
“Can Edelinne really gain the upper hand in this war?”
The Third Pitzmark War.
On the surface, the reason for this war was simple. An Edelinne diplomatic delegation that had visited Pitzmark was attacked and killed by unknown assailants on their way home.
Edelinne immediately issued a statement of protest, but Pitzmark, while expressing regret, ultimately denied any involvement. Instead, they countered by claiming it was a conspiracy by Edelinne.
Chloe had no way of knowing the full, complicated truth. She could only vaguely assume that the Edelinne royal family had been preparing for war for a long time. From the very beginning, Edelinne’s army had launched mass attacks with modern artillery and ammunition.
The problem was that once the war truly began, Pitzmark revealed unexpected weapons of its own. The mages who had been presumed wiped out during the Second Pitzmark War were still alive, and their existence was powerful enough to offset the numerical disadvantage.
“Chloe, be careful.”
“Got it.”
“Why don’t you just stay with me today? After what happened last time, I’m a bit uneasy.”
“I’ll stick close.”
Matthew patted her shoulder twice before moving off to search for survivors. Chloe began retrieving belongings from the corpses of Edelinne soldiers in uniform. Handling the dead was not pleasant, but she remained calm and efficient.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t bury you. I’ll make sure your belongings are sent back home.”
She gathered weapons and small personal items into a sack. Identifying unknown soldiers was easier than expected, because they had a habit of engraving their names on everything they owned.
Calling it a trend would be somewhat cruel, but the practice had spread across both sides. It was almost an obsession. Clothes were obvious, but if there was even a fingernail-sized space, they would write their names again and again.
It was likely a psychological attempt to ensure that, if anything happened to them, some trace of them would reach the people waiting back home.
Chloe continued scanning for Edelinne uniforms.
Then it happened.
A thin voice pierced her ear from somewhere.
“W-water… please…”
Her gaze searched for the source. Soon she found a soldier lying on the ground, looking at her desperately. But he was wearing a Pitzmark uniform.
“……”
Chloe looked around for her group, but they were scattered, loading wounded soldiers onto carts. She sighed with a conflicted expression. A sense of déjà vu washed over her.
Hey. Unless my mental health has taken a serious turn, I feel like I’ve been through something similar not long ago. This doesn’t feel good.
“Please… water…”
“……”
Chloe stared at the soldier again.
Pitzmark soldiers, when encountering enemy forces, were usually wary but often resigned. This place was closer to Edelinne’s control than Pitzmark’s. If he had been left behind for days, it meant he could no longer move on his own.
And anyone facing death would cling to any hope they could find. As a result, enemy soldiers often chose surrender over death.
She looked back toward her group, but the soldier’s fading groans continued.
With a sigh, Chloe stood up. Still slightly cautious, she tossed a water canteen from her pack toward him.
But the soldier didn’t even have the strength to pick it up, nor to open it.
After watching him for a moment, she finally picked it back up and unscrewed the lid herself.
“I’ve never been a morally good person. But sometimes it’s surprisingly hard to refuse someone asking for even a sip of water. That’s why I’m doing this.”
Muttering to herself under the tension, she tilted the canteen and poured a thin stream toward his lips. She thought just a little might be enough—but the soldier kept drinking desperately.
As the amount of water increased, light slowly returned to his eyes.
Then Chloe realized he was now staring directly at her. His eyes were wild.
She tried to pull back, but the soldier grabbed a fallen dagger from the ground and swung it.
“Ugh—!”
She quickly stood, but the blade grazed her arm. Clenching her teeth, she raised the bayonet she carried. Just as she was hesitating between using the blade or firing, something splattered in front of her.
“Chloe!”
Matthew rushed in and grabbed her wrist. Smoke was rising from his barrel, and blood was seeping through the torn sleeve of Chloe’s uniform.
“You’re hurt?!”
“……”
“Chloe. Are you okay?”
“…Yeah. It just grazed me.”
Chloe stood frozen for a moment, then quickly regained her composure. She let go of his support and calmly picked up the fallen canteen.
She looked down at the dead soldier, who now lay with open, lifeless eyes. Her gaze was somewhat cold, but what she felt wasn’t simply betrayal.
She was curious.
What did that sip of water mean to him? Was it his last attempt at survival? Or a symbol of the enemy’s foolishness and arrogance?
She turned away from the corpse.
In the end… I shouldn’t have given him the water.
Chloe and her group returned to the base just before sunset. Night was the best time for ambushes. At that hour, soldiers of both sides often turned into beasts. Once darkness fell, people inside the base locked the gates and rarely went out.
Chloe held a large sack in her arms as she looked around the base. Medics were transferring Edelinne soldiers—and a few Pitzmark soldiers—to prepared beds.
As she watched, she inevitably met the gaze of a blue-eyed man. Alvin had apparently been watching her the whole time. The moment their eyes met, he beckoned her with a flick of his finger.
“Now he’s summoning people with just a finger…”
She let out a dry laugh. Matthew, who had been watching, asked curiously:
“Chloe, are you close with that guy? You seemed together last time too.”
“…Not really close. We just talk sometimes.”
Chloe answered awkwardly, still holding the sack as she walked over. Standing by the window, she lowered her voice and scolded him.
“Don’t call me like that in front of people.”
Alvin looked unconcerned.
“What’s the problem? That people saw, or that I used a gesture?”
“Alvin. Both.”
Chloe cleared her throat. She had intended to scold him properly, but almost laughed mid-sentence.
“Where were you?”
“You’re asking because you don’t know?”
She opened the sack to show him. It was filled with all sorts of items.
Chloe looked unusually satisfied. Alvin chuckled, thinking she looked like someone who’d just made a big haul. Now he understood why so many weapons had fallen out of her the first time they met.
“So you’ve become a grave robber now? Is your usual job not paying well?”
“Hmm. Not great, but I’m not exactly poor…”
“So you’ve been looting other people’s belongings?”
“‘Looting’ is a bit—”
Strictly speaking, Alvin wasn’t entirely wrong. Most items were returned to families, but there was another purpose: ammunition was always scarce, so usable items were kept separately. It wasn’t exactly theft, but Chloe still felt awkward and adjusted the sack.
Then Alvin suddenly frowned.
In an instant, he grabbed her wrist. His movement was so fast it didn’t match his usual demeanor that she dropped the sack.
“Hey! What are you doing?!”
Startled, Chloe stepped back. Alvin released her wrist and instead held the edge of her sleeve between two fingers. Her arm dangled like a branch in the wind.
“You’re hurt?”
“……”
“You’ve been here half a year, haven’t you? Who told you injured parts should be kept above the heart?”
“…It’s not that bad. It’s just a scratch.”
“Anywhere else?”
Alvin scanned her body, still frowning.
The blatant gaze made her uncomfortable—but soon she realized he was worried.
Alvin… strictly speaking, this is technically your side doing this.
It’s kind of thoughtful, but your framing is a bit off.
“You’re worried about me? If something happens to me, wouldn’t that benefit Pitzmark more?”
She smiled lightly as if it didn’t matter. Alvin just stared at her for a long moment. His expression was normal, but his face felt strangely stiff. The temperature in his eyes seemed to drop.
He gently let go of her sleeve and looked away.
“So you’re a children’s author… and you’ve got quite a sharp tongue.”
“…What?”
Despite the careful gesture, his words were sharp. Chloe let out a dry laugh.
My childhood imagination was already ruined long ago—what do you want me to do about it? And stop insulting people’s professions like that.
She lowered her voice.
“We joke about this kind of thing sometimes. Why are you so upset?”
Alvin was silent for a moment, then shook his head.
“I’m not. Go.”
“…Since when did I become someone who comes and goes at your command?”
Chloe felt awkward and slightly embarrassed. He, usually so composed, seemed irritated now. She almost apologized, but decided against it.
She crouched by the window and began cleaning up the spilled contents of her sack. While she gathered everything, Alvin’s voice came again from above.
“Get it treated.”
“……”
“Don’t leave it like that.”
Chloe glanced upward—but he was already gone.
