TMBE 10

CHAPTER 10

 A Sleepless Night Beneath the Blanket

There are three kingdoms on the continent: Pitzmark, Nanshi, and Edelinne.

According to ancient records, each land once had its own god who governed it.

Picharke, the god of fire. Despite his immense power, he was said to have a calm temperament.

Nanshier, the god of wind, was a wildly free-spirited observer who never intervened.

Ederlaina, the goddess of water, was… somewhat sharp-tempered, a bit prickly.

Those who inherited their powers became priests and devoted themselves to the gods, but the royal families of each kingdom continually sought to train them as military forces.

Until just a hundred years ago, they still survived across the continent.

But wind-type mages resembling Nanshier drifted freely and went into hiding,

and water- and fire-type mages were driven to near extinction during the greatest war in history—

the Second Edelinne–Pitzmark War.

— Chloe Libertà, Record from the Second Front

*****

Chloe was reviewing letters sent from the capital after a long time. She had written to all three of the triplets, but only Julia and Benjamin had replied.

Andrea still seemed to be sulking.

Chloe. I got your letter. I’m glad you’re doing well.

……

You know, it feels like a waste of paper, but I’m sending you an update on Benjamin anyway, in case you’re curious.

I don’t think there’s much else entertaining happening where you are either.

“This has a sequel. I’m deeply moved.”

Chloe was so focused she looked like she might be pulled into the paper itself. And the letter contained shocking information.

A while ago, Benjamin got confessed to by another lady.

What exactly is his charm? Honestly, I don’t get it.

Chloe burst out laughing. In truth, she already had a rough answer. Talented bad men were a staple of literary circles. No matter how much they were criticized, audiences and success numbers never lied.

The key point was that the man was never trash to her women. So how profound were their internal contradictions? They were living proof that humans could be that multifaceted.

But in that case, that “woman” definitely wasn’t her.

By the way, you know that girl who broke up with Benjamin a while ago and keeps clinging to him?

It seems Benjamin isn’t planning to take her back, but apparently she threw tea at the girl who confessed to him this time.

“…What kind of otherworldly story is this?”

Chloe shook her head. Not because she was confused—rather, because the dramatic pacing was something she almost wanted to study. It was fast, intense, and deliciously chaotic.

But only a few lines remained. She skimmed to the end, and felt strangely empty.

I’ll tell you if there’s more news.

And you—don’t you dare tell Benjamin I said any of this.

I can’t beat him in an argument.

Anyway, I’ll be waiting for your reply. Bye!

— Julia, your best friend

“Julia… if you end it there, how am I supposed to live my daily life?”

What’s more, Benjamin’s emotional perspective was missing entirely. Briefly resenting her friend, Chloe realized she was getting overly invested.

She regained her composure and opened Benjamin’s letter next. Unlike Julia’s, his was extremely short. Even a young poet had the habit of conserving words.

Chloe. Prolonged selective isolation isn’t good.

“…That’s so like you.”

The sharp-witted poet seemed to have roughly guessed why she was there. Chloe stared at the few words for a long time, then carefully placed the letter into her drawer.

By now, morning light was spreading outside the window. A new day had come, and she had to return to reality.

Passing through Edelinne’s infirmary and arriving at the Pitzmark ward, Chloe first checked Alvin’s bed. He wasn’t there, so she tilted her head. Since the last incident, they had been treating each other like strangers again.

Feeling vaguely unsettled, she quietly searched for him—and soon found him doing push-ups under the bed.

“Soldiers…”

Chloe muttered to herself.

With so many strong men gathered together, restlessness was understandable. But their level of physical activity was sometimes excessive.

She had recently seen a Pitzmark soldier doing pull-ups from a second-floor railing. It had been stopped quickly by base personnel, but such training wasn’t rare.

To Chloe, who had lived a life moving only between a bed and a desk before the war, they often felt like an entirely different species.

As usual, she walked around checking for cleanliness and whether anyone looked seriously injured. Occasionally, soldiers asked her for things. She couldn’t grant everything, but if she judged it essential for preserving human dignity, she usually helped.

However, there were always those who tried to exploit even that minimal goodwill.

“Your name’s Chloe, right? Busy?”

“I’m fine. Why?”

“Get me some rockweed.”

At the mention of a narcotic and hallucinogen, she checked his condition and replied calmly:

“I’ll call a doctor.”

The soldier grabbed her wrist.

“You can just get it yourself.”

Chloe didn’t recognize every soldier’s face. But she knew one thing immediately.

You’re a rookie.

Wounded soldiers—especially Pitzmark ones—usually stayed intimidated for a few days after arriving, realizing they were in enemy territory while injured.

But about one in ten failed to read the situation like this.

“That plant is precious for patients. And you’re not injured enough to need it.”

“You a doctor?”

Even without being one, spending months among hundreds of severely injured patients taught her enough. The man was clearly a drug addict. Still, she held back.

“No. That’s why I said I’d call one.”

But the man’s gaze became openly rude.

“Then just get it.”

“Please don’t look at me like that.”

“Just bring it. Come on.”

“Let go of my hand.”

He didn’t. Instead, he pulled her toward the bed, insisting they talk.

A headache she hadn’t felt in a long time returned. Rubbing her forehead, Chloe muttered to the heavens.

“Ederlaina… no, this is Picharke’s domain. Picharke…”

“…Huh?”

“In front of you stands your lamb, corrupted by twisted desire… no, just a beast.”

“……”

“Please forgive this ignorant creature… or just judge him.”

It sounded like a heartfelt prayer—but if listened to carefully, it was extremely insolent. Practically blasphemous.

Chloe silently added a personal apology afterward.

Ederlaina, the reason I don’t pray often isn’t because I deny you. It’s not because I’m a complete rational being who needs no reliance. As you can see, my sentences are inherently negative and contradictory.

But sometimes I want to justify this cynical language. A merciful faith for all, laws that demand fairness for all, morality accepted by society, and my personal conscience I must uphold—these never fully align.

I am simply someone standing at that boundary. The world has thousands of situations, and no single perspective can represent it all.

Maybe… people like me are your true lambs, endlessly troubled in this chaotic world.

But you don’t need to save someone like me. Please save those who live clearer, more defined lives—and the families who pray for them.

She stopped there.

Yeah, if I keep going, it all turns to garbage. I’d just expose my personality.

If I prayed like this in an Ederlaina temple, I’d probably be excommunicated. But then again… how could they excommunicate someone who isn’t even a believer?

People nearby snickered when they saw her frowning mid-thought.

Is this really funny? I’m literally talking to God first thing in the morning.

Chloe glared at them and scanned the room.

She needed to deal with this man somehow. In Edelinne wards, it was simple—command officers restored order quickly. Harsh, but efficient. Without leadership, an army became a zoo.

But here, there was effectively no command structure. It was well known that Pitzmark’s royal forces distributed poison to commanders so they could commit suicide if captured, to prevent intelligence leaks.

Then Matthew, not Anna, would be needed.

Just as she decided and tried to stand, the man suddenly pulled harder than before. Chloe was yanked forward and nearly collapsed onto the bed, catching herself with her palms.

Then someone stepped between them.

Alvin.

He had apparently done so many push-ups that his usually pristine body was soaked in sweat.

“Stop. It’s unpleasant to look at.”

Grabbing the soldier’s wrist with one hand, Alvin pushed Chloe behind him with the other.

Chloe remembered that the last time she had clashed with a soldier, Alvin had merely laughed like everyone else, even watching her with amusement.

But today, his expression was different. Completely blank.

And within his icy blue eyes was something faintly irritated.

“Use your hands properly while you still can.”

“……”

“Even if you’re a defeated soldier, don’t disgrace the army like this.”

Chloe felt something was wrong. Even someone like her, with almost zero combat ability, could feel the tension clearly.

But the soldier didn’t seem intimidated. He spat out a curse and grabbed Alvin’s collar with his free hand.

Chloe moved to call for help, but Alvin’s gaze grew even colder.

“You really don’t understand words.”

Alvin twisted the man’s wrist.

CRACK.

The sound echoed through the room.

A moment later, a scream usually heard only in operating rooms split the morning air of the base.