Chapter 10
“Effects aside, it’s surprisingly easy to take since it’s sweet rather than bitter. Which pharmaceutical company made this antipyretic?”
The man, who had been listening to Freya’s murmuring to herself, asked with a curious expression.
“Harlington Pharmaceuticals.”
“Harlington Pharmaceuticals… that would be the pharmaceutical company owned by Viscount Harlington, who holds lands in the southern border region.”
Freya was quite surprised. Her maternal family, the Harlington viscountcy, was located in the remote outskirts of the Empire and was not a particularly prestigious lineage. Unless one was well-versed in the southern regions, it was not a name most would recognize. And yet this man had immediately identified the family just from hearing the name.
So not only his appearance, but even his intellect seemed exceptional. If she did not want to get entangled with him, she would need to be careful with her words.
“That’s correct.”
“I’ve heard the Harlington family’s financial situation has improved significantly over the past few years. Perhaps it’s because of this antipyretic.”
Freya felt that continuing the conversation about her maternal uncle would lead to nothing good, so she quickly changed the subject.
“You should sleep now. There is no better medicine than proper rest.”
Finishing her words, Freya settled herself in front of the hearth.
Before even ten minutes had passed, the warmth from the blazing fire began to lull both body and mind. Fatigue layered over that drowsiness, and she began to yawn without realizing it. Her eyes slowly closed, and it did not take long before she drifted fully into sleep.
Why is it so cold…?
The next day, Freya woke up feeling a chill. As she opened her eyes, she realized she was once again lying in the bed. She clearly remembered falling asleep in front of the hearth the night before.
So why was she in bed?
It meant that while she had been asleep, the man had moved her there.
Freya quickly got up and looked around the room. The fire in the hearth was still burning brightly, but the man was nowhere to be seen.
“Don’t tell me… he didn’t go off to die, did he?”
Last night, the man had been consumed by depression and emptiness, even to the point of considering suicide.
Freya stepped outside the hut. Bright morning sunlight greeted her.
How deeply did I fall asleep to sleep through until this late in the morning…?
She chided herself briefly, then began searching for the man. However, he was nowhere around the cabin.
“Wait… he really didn’t die, did he?”
Refusing to believe it, Freya carefully examined the tracks on the ground. There was enough snow for footprints to be visible, though not enough to accumulate heavily. The footprints led away from the cabin toward the valley.
She was about to follow them immediately, but changed her mind and returned inside the hut. Accidents and crises never came with warning—she needed something for self-defense.
She went back outside and looked for the spear she had used before. But it was no longer where she had left it.
Then she noticed footprints at the very spot where the spear had been placed. That meant the man had taken it.
It was certain. There were no signs of him dragging his injured leg. Instead, there were evenly spaced impressions slightly higher up from where the wound would have been, indicating he had been moving with care, not dragging himself.
By the time she had almost descended to the valley, Freya found him.
He was sitting on a rock beside a signpost—the same rock where she had rested briefly the day before.
The moment she reached him, Freya immediately began scolding him.
“Have you lost your mind? You nearly died, and it hasn’t even been long—how can you walk around in this freezing wind?”
The man only smiled without answering.
“And that leg—if you use it before it’s healed, the wound could become infected and even fester. The same goes for your shoulder.”
“It will be fine.”
“Fine? How can you be so sure? Are you a doctor?” Freya snapped.
He was one of the few Sword Masters in the Empire. Early that morning, he had awakened and used his internal cultivation method—his personal breathing technique—to purge the lingering poison and impurities from his body, replacing them with refined internal energy.
As a result, his condition had largely recovered. However, the tissue damage from the poisoned arrow in his leg was still severe. It would take several more days before he could walk like a normal person.
Before he could explain any of this, the woman spoke in a commanding tone.
“Go back to the hut immediately.”
She was truly a tyrant. And yet, he did not dislike her. No—rather, he liked her very much.
Was this the type of woman he preferred? He found himself unexpectedly taken with her.
The only problem was that she showed absolutely no interest in him—not even bothering to tell him her name. Even his proposal to take responsibility for her had been firmly rejected.
Thinking of that, he let out a self-mocking smile. He had never understood people who acted as though their world had ended just because they were rejected by someone they liked.
But now he understood. The pain of rejection from someone you had feelings for was no less than physical injury. And the collapse of self-esteem was an added blow.
“What are you doing? I told you to go back to the hut.”
At her urging, he did something entirely unlike himself. In a pitiful voice, he asked her,
“Could you help me a bit? I managed on the way down since it was downhill, but I’m not confident about going back up.”
The woman looked at him with a “figures as much” expression and asked,
“How do you want me to help?”
“Just lend me your shoulder.”
Freya stepped beside him.
“Ah, I almost forgot something.”
Before taking even a step, the man looked upward as if recalling something.
“What is it now?”
“Stay here for a moment.”
“What’s going on?”
“There are two rabbits over there. They seem to have been caught in a hunter’s trap.”
On his way down, he had discovered the trap after leaving coded marks to signal his subordinates.
“Oh?”
Freya brightened.
“I was just planning to go hunting for food anyway. Perfect timing. Wait here—I’ll go get them.”
“No, I…”
“What nonsense. What are you planning to do with that leg?” she cut him off.
Ignoring his protests, she headed uphill. Her movements were swift—like a flying squirrel. In less than ten minutes, she returned holding a rabbit in each hand. She placed them at his feet and said,
“Sit here and wait a bit longer. I’ll gather some medicinal herbs to cook with the rabbits.”
“No.”
The man suddenly stood up, his expression hardened.
“How do you know what beasts might be in the mountains? Are you going alone without fear?”
“Calm down. I appreciate your concern, but there’s no need. I’m a doctor—but also an herb gatherer and pharmacist. I’m very used to these mountains.”
“Don’t be so sure. You can never predict what might happen to a person.”
“True. But I’m still going. If I were afraid of beasts, I would’ve quit being an herbalist long ago.”
“Even so—”
Freya raised her hand firmly, cutting him off.
“Enough. Worrying about things that haven’t happened isn’t my style. And statistically, the chance of those worries becoming reality is less than 10%. So stop worrying and focus on recovering like a proper patient. That’s the only way you can help me.”
With such firm words, he could not stop her. She turned and walked into the mountains.
He kept his senses fully alert while waiting for her return. However, his worries proved unnecessary—she returned in less than ten minutes.
“That was faster than expected, right?” she said brightly.
“They say everything goes well even if you fall on your back—when I went in, the herbs I needed were just right there. Both kinds.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
“Wait, why aren’t you taking the rabbits…”
“We’ll process them down by the valley anyway.”
Freya pointed toward the stream.
“Do you know how to prepare meat?” she asked skeptically.
It was only natural for him to doubt her. Tasks like this were usually handled by servants, not noblewomen.
“If you don’t know how, I can—”
“No, it’s fine. I’ve watched my master do it many times. I can handle it.”
“Watching and doing are different things. So I should—”
“I said it’s fine.”
Freya raised her voice.
“I even treat human wounds for healing purposes—preparing a rabbit is nothing. So stop worrying about me and focus on recovering quickly. That’s the best way you can help me.”
“I understand.”
The man nodded, slightly deflated.
