Chapter 03
The Wellington Medical Base sometimes looks like a third zone.
A place where peace alone seems permitted in the middle of the battlefield.
But the principle that allows such an absurd base to operate is more complicated than it appears.
The Marquis of Wellington is a staunch pacifist, but he is still, in the end, a noble of Edelin.
Anyone who isn’t a fool can tell that the king is turning a blind eye to this base—and even supporting it.
The king undoubtedly has his reasons and his purpose.
– Recorded by Chloe Liberta on the Second Front.
On the day of the massive explosion, Chloe lost many of her comrades.
Confirming the dead and transporting the fallen survivors had always been dangerous work. But the reason their losses were especially severe that day was simple: it was the first time in half a year that they had witnessed fire magic up close.
Alvin.
That was the name of the man who had survived the brink of death with her—written in his own hand during questioning.
Not long ago, Chloe had casually asked him about something. The incident from before had been lingering in her mind. The uniform he wore clearly didn’t belong among Edelin soldiers.
“I can ask them to move your bed to your side.”
“……”
“Of course, that depends on whether there’s space.”
“It doesn’t matter. Anywhere.”
“…If you say so.”
Even though they had practically stood at death’s door together.
Chloe thought his reaction was drier than she had expected. She even wondered if he had lost some of his memory. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to forget parts of traumatic events.
And for a man like Alvin, was that a blessing or a curse?
As it turned out, the Fitzmark soldiers, including him, were moved to new beds sooner than expected. Space had opened up.
The comrades who had been receiving treatment there had died.
Chloe had come to check on the Fitzmark ward after finishing with the Edelin side.
Whenever she stayed inside the base, she helped change bandages for lightly injured soldiers or cleaned whenever she had time. Even so, they were always short-handed, and cleanliness never quite reached the level they hoped for.
She bent down to pick up scraps of cloth from the floor—torn remnants of clothing cut away during emergency treatment.
As she continued filling her basket, she straightened her back for a moment.
Then she let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
Something at the edge of her vision had caught her eye.
“Where on earth did he even get that?”
Chloe looked at Alvin in disbelief.
The enemy soldier, half-sitting upright, was doing something utterly ridiculous.
He was shaving.
“There’s someone here who’d iron his trousers even in the middle of a battlefield.”
He looked beyond calm—almost at ease, like he was at home.
It wasn’t something she saw often, but without any particular reason, Chloe approached him and spoke first.
“What are you doing?”
Alvin, sitting at an angle as if his body still wasn’t fully comfortable, glanced at her and answered casually.
“It was bothering me.”
“Didn’t you hear that weapons are forbidden inside this place?”
Even Edelin soldiers had to follow that rule until they left the base.
Still, everyone bent the rules a little. Chloe knew very well that no one would make a fuss over something as small as that blade.
She changed the subject.
“Look, I’m not asking for an apology or anything.”
“……”
“But saying thanks to each other wouldn’t hurt, right?”
Alvin stopped what he was doing and stared at her.
Even with his face only half-groomed, his natural neatness couldn’t be hidden.
“What would I be sorry for? And what would I be thankful for?”
“You used force on a civilian first. And if you’d stayed there, you would’ve definitely died from blood loss.”
He seemed to find her words absurd.
For the first time, his calm expression shifted. He narrowed his eyes slightly, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Before that, shouldn’t you think about how you put another hole in my body?”
It wasn’t exactly a hole—he had just gotten scraped by shrapnel while blocking something above.
But Alvin went on.
“And I think the hole I already had got bigger too.”
“……”
“Rolling around while carrying you.”
Only then did Chloe nod quietly.
She hadn’t expected gratitude or apology in the first place. She had only wanted to confirm one thing.
So he hadn’t lost his memory after all.
With that settled, she set down her basket and rummaged through her pocket.
“Take your clothes off for a second.”
“……”
Alvin stared at her.
He seemed to hesitate, glancing around as if searching for an answer, but finding none, he silently began unbuttoning his shirt.
His firm chest and sharply defined muscles came into view.
But the bandages wrapped around his waist were stiff with dried blood.
Just as Chloe was about to take out fresh bandages—
Alvin placed a hand on his belt.
And looked at her again.
As if asking, Are you really going to keep watching?
“What are you doing?” Chloe frowned, confused.
As he began to undo his belt, she instinctively jumped back.
“W-Why are you taking your pants off?!”
He looked so clean-cut and gentlemanly—was he actually a pervert?
Despite her incredulous expression, he said nothing for a long moment.
Then he gestured toward the basket at her feet.
“…Wasn’t it for laundry?”
“…These are being thrown away. And why would I wash your clothes?”
The basket was filled not with laundry, but rags beyond saving.
Chloe brushed back her short hair and shot him a glance.
She had long grown used to seeing nearly naked men here.
Still, having someone casually strip in front of her mid-conversation was another matter.
She crouched down, unrolling the bandage.
“I was just going to change your bandages. Everyone’s busy. If you’re not critical, they don’t pay attention to what’s out of sight.”
After a moment, his calm voice came from above her.
“Alright.”
“….”
“Thank you for allowing me to keep my pants on.”
The faint sound that followed was unmistakably a laugh.
Instead of responding, Chloe yanked the bandage tight.
He groaned.
Startled, she loosened her grip and tied it more carefully.
When she stood, Alvin gave a small nod of thanks.
It was understated, but neither of them minded.
He immediately picked up the blade again and resumed shaving.
It must really have been bothering him.
Chloe found herself glancing at him again, fascinated.
But soon, both of them froze at the same time.
They stared at each other.
“Is this your first time shaving?”
Chloe asked, eyeing the faint red line on his cheek.
Despite the teasing tone, he nodded calmly.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“With my left hand.”
“……”
“I’m right-handed.”
Only then did Chloe remember the injury on his hand.
She let out a quiet laugh.
Then she held out her palm.
“Give it to me, then.”
When he hesitated, she simply took the blade herself and leaned in close.
Chloe focused completely.
Alvin, however, didn’t.
His lips twitched as if he wanted to say something.
Eventually, he spoke.
“Do you do this for other soldiers too?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I think it’d be better if you didn’t… go this far.”
She pulled back slightly, frowning.
“…So you really don’t know how to say thank you. Saying that to someone who’s helping you is just discouraging.”
“If that’s how it sounded to you, then your comprehension isn’t great either.”
“….”
Chloe straightened up completely.
Her face was smooth and expressionless, but there was a chill beneath it.
For someone who made a living by writing, being told she lacked comprehension was more insulting than any curse.
She could ignore insults.
But this stung.
If you’re going to do that, just swear at me instead.
Just as she was drowning in those thoughts—
“You heard someone say something like that the other day. And you still don’t get what I mean?”
“….”
Of course, she knew what he meant.
It was probably advice.
But she chose to ignore it.
After watching him for a moment, Chloe leaned in again.
She gently held his chin and pulled his face closer.
“Stay still for a second. I’ve never shaved anyone before, so I need to concentrate.”
“……”
“And I actually have shaky hands. If I don’t sleep, they tremble the next day.”
That seemed to convince him.
He shut his mouth immediately.
Chloe nodded and focused again.
She wasn’t good with her hands—except when it came to playing instruments.
Still, she blamed neither the poor tools nor the environment.
She immersed herself in the task.
The soft scraping sound oddly reminded her of writing.
And like that, she successfully finished her first attempt.
His jawline looked far more refined now.
Satisfied, Chloe set the blade down and picked up her basket.
“I’ve been here for over half a year. I know what you’re trying to say.”
“……”
“And honestly… you did hurt your arm because of me. So I just did this.”
Without meeting his eyes, she turned and walked away.
Alvin watched her for a long moment.
Then he muttered to himself,
“I think you’re the one who wanted to say thank you.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
Then he turned his gaze toward the window.
The sun, once high in the sky, had begun to descend.
And another day on the battlefield quietly passed.
