Chapter 55
The Arrow That Left the Bow (14)
I had stepped away for a bit to settle the commission fees for Babel Square and the Baman General Store.
No—
I’d been gone longer than I’d expected.
Alexandro was terrible with computer work, and Kang Yeonhee kept crying and asking when I’d be back, so comforting her took far more time than I’d planned.
Still, since I’d promised to have dinner together, I hurried toward the back of the clinic, worried that Remi might feel hurt if I was late.
“Remi?”
Remi wasn’t there.
Half-finished laundry hung untouched in the basket, as if he’d rushed out in a hurry.
‘If he’s not here, maybe the stables?’
But Remi wasn’t at the stables either, and even the house Anton had told me about was empty.
I searched the entire small village, but not a single person knew where the little boy Remi was.
Whenever I asked about him, people reacted with obvious disgust, and I barely managed to restrain myself from punching someone.
The last place I went back to was the clinic—
the place where Remi supposedly spent most of his time.
“Remi?”
I called his name as I pulled open the tent flap.
Among the many healers who paid me no attention, a middle-aged male healer grinding some kind of herb startled and spun around.
His well-oiled, shiny forehead was bright enough to light up the tent.
“Is Remi not here?”
“Why are you looking for him?”
Wow. Listen to the way he talks.
My mood soured instantly, but I’m an adult who knows how to control my emotions.
“I had plans to have dinner with Remi, but I couldn’t find him.”
“Dinner with that filthy brat— Anyway, cancel it. I sent him on an errand.”
“Where?”
“Where else? The front lines.”
“…The front lines—what did you say?”
He said it so casually that I almost brushed it off without thinking.
Remi is only eleven.
Anton, an archer assigned to the rear, says he feels the terror of death every time he goes to the front lines—and an eleven-year-old is sent there?
It was so absurd that I let out a hollow laugh and asked again.
“Why would Remi go to the front lines? He’s eleven.”
“Emergency medical supply delivery. That’s how it is. The front lines are dangerous, so we can’t go ourselves.”
What the hell is this lunatic saying?
They can’t go, but an eleven-year-old kid can?
‘I’m so sick of these people.’
I’m technically one of them, but hearing that made me want to draw a clear line and pretend I belonged to an entirely different race.
‘If only I had the Merchant’s Mark, I would’ve punched him and bolted.’
But right now, I’m an outsider.
Normally, I should’ve left for Conaro already, but Anton and Remi keep sticking in my mind.
Who knows how much longer I’ll be staying here?
On top of that, Kasabl might be hunting me down nearby, so I have to remain as harmless a merchant as possible.
“You crazy bastard. Then when is Remi coming back?”
“Did you just insult me?!”
“No? I was insulting myself. Like, ‘Wow, I’m a crazy bastard. I didn’t even know Remi went to the front lines and ran around uselessly, you idiot.’ That kind of thing?”
The man frowned, clearly unconvinced by my shameless excuse.
‘That forehead… perfect for a flick.’
While entertaining such inappropriate thoughts, I put on a light smile.
Then, wearing the face of Lee Haeon, the innocent and pitifully handsome man when standing still, I asked gently,
“So when will he be back?”
“Who knows? If he’s lucky, today. If the front lines are a mess, it could take days. Ah, that Remi kid—he probably didn’t even finish his laundry.”
He waved his hand dismissively, signaling me to leave.
That was when—
“Multiple critically injured incoming from the front lines!”
A rough shout rang out from outside the tent, and the man’s face hardened instantly.
“Get out. Now!”
The man barked at me as the exhausted healers hurriedly began preparing beds.
Strong liquor for disinfecting wounds and strips of cloth in place of bandages.
The potions and herbs they had bought from me were quickly loaded onto carts for immediate use.
And exactly one minute later, the once-clean green tent began to be stained red with blood.
I never imagined I’d see so many injuries in my life.
No—calling them injuries was an understatement.
Missing limbs, twisted bones, gaping holes torn through bodies—it was everywhere.
I knew beastmen and humans were at war, but this was my first time witnessing such direct devastation, and my stomach churned.
Even with a strong mentality, it was hard to endure.
“This one’s done for. Record the soldier’s name.”
“This wound won’t be enough with medicine alone. Where’s the priest? Are they coming?”
“What on earth happened? This doesn’t look like a blade wound.”
“An unexploded shell detonated without warning. That’s why the casualties are so severe—”
As healers and soldiers exchanged grave words, someone entered the tent.
A soldier with a face shredded by shrapnel set down a stretcher—so small it barely deserved to be called one.
“This is the last one.”
A stretcher small enough for one person to carry alone.
And on it—
Was a child.
A child whom no one in the frantic clinic seemed to care about.
I stared, unable to believe my eyes, and whispered,
“…Remi?”
The boy I had promised tuna-mayo rice balls for dinner.
The boy who’d excitedly asked what other foods tasted like besides sandwiches.
Eleven-year-old Remi lay on the stretcher, drenched in blood.
Even to someone with no medical knowledge like me, Remi’s injuries looked severe.
He wasn’t even conscious—so still that I almost wondered if he was already dead.
What hurt even more was that no one in the tent paid him any attention.
Sure, there were soldiers more badly injured than Remi—
I could concede that much.
But—
‘This isn’t right.’
He’s just a kid.
Something surged painfully in my chest.
I hurriedly opened my inventory.
If the healers wouldn’t help, I would.
I tilted an A-rank potion to Remi’s lips and whispered,
“Remi, drink this. You have to.”
But the potion merely spilled down his cheek—Remi, unconscious, couldn’t swallow.
In desperation, I took the potion into my own mouth and tried feeding it to him directly.
One bottle.
Two, just in case.
Three, out of sheer fear.
“…Remi?”
Nothing changed.
‘Damn it.’
The cold reality hit me—
even A-rank potions couldn’t save him.
Then what else?
An S-rank potion.
‘Right. Something like Hanromi’s potion…’
The Dimensional Market had everything. Surely, something even better existed.
[Available for Purchase]
Tear of the World Tree — 68,200G
Sun’s Vitality Elixir (Crafted by Retorkinie) — 30,719G
Dawnwind Starflower Elixir (Crafted by ■■■) — 15,400G
‘This is insane.’
I clenched my fist, staring blankly at the screen.
I’d filtered for the cheapest S-rank-level potions, and it was still this bad.
I should’ve known when appraising Hanromi’s potion alone cost 1,000 gold.
I had 5,817 gold.
I couldn’t afford an S-rank potion—and Kang Yeonhee still couldn’t make one.
Remi’s pale face lay utterly motionless.
This couldn’t be happening.
I grabbed the hem of a priest’s robe as he passed by another patient.
“Please. Look at this child too.”
The priest harshly slapped my hand away, the robe slipping free with ease.
Was it because I was only an E-rank Awakener that I couldn’t even hold onto someone’s sleeve?
Rage welled up at my helplessness.
The priest glanced briefly at Remi and said coldly,
“I can’t treat him.”
“Please, just take a proper look. You never know.”
With an irritated sigh, the priest placed a hand on Remi’s abdomen.
Warm golden light flowed from his palm, enveloping Remi—
But—
“See? It won’t work. This child doesn’t respond to divine power.”
The holy energy failed to penetrate Remi’s body and scattered uselessly.
Stunned, I murmured,
“Why…?”
Leaving me behind, the priest moved on to another patient.
Wasn’t divine power supposed to be omnipotent?
If potions don’t work, and divine power doesn’t work—
Is primitive treatment the only option left?
But this wasn’t the time to be picky.
I moved quickly.
My target was the middle-aged healer who’d yelled at me earlier.
I grabbed the healer as he wrapped bandages and pleaded,
“Please. Look at Remi.”
“Can’t you see? Someone’s leg is gone here.”
I glanced down—the soldier really was missing a leg.
Still, Remi mattered more to me.
Selfish as it was, the abandoned child dying alone felt more urgent than an unknown soldier.
I stammered,
“Remi’s just a kid. You hated him, but he worked here. You can’t just leave him like that.”
The healer’s hands stopped.
I hurriedly added,
“You’re a healer. You have to save lives first.”
The healer looked at me with conflicted eyes.
Then he handed the bandage to another healer and gestured for me to lead the way.
“Let’s see.”
“Ha…”
A sigh of relief escaped me.
Someone seasoned on the front lines—surely he could help Remi.
The healer rushed over with his cart, and I followed closely, tense.
But after examining Remi, his eyes dulled, and he murmured with regret,
“It’s already too late.”
“…What?”
I heard him.
I just couldn’t believe it.
“He’s already gone.”
The man repeated calmly, then hurried away as someone else called for him.
“Victor! We need you here!”
I stood there blankly and placed a hand on Remi’s pale cheek.
It was still warm.
“…Really?”
Just a few hours ago, he’d been sitting beside me, looking so grown-up.
I slowly brushed my hand through his tangled hair.
Blood and dust stained the light ochre strands—
But still,
‘It’s soft.’
We’d only spoken briefly.
Chatted nonsense by the wash basin.
Not close enough to say we were friends.
Yet—
I didn’t know how to describe what I felt.
Not grief enough to collapse.
Not anger boiling over.
Just—
Remi was dead.
I never even got to give him the rice balls.
Suddenly, I realized I might never eat them again.
And maybe—
Just maybe—
I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise of standing back and watching as a mere bystander forever.
