Chapter 10
Chloe’s mind was entirely focused on what was about to happen. Because of that, she failed to notice Alvin’s gaze as keenly as she usually did. Even if she had noticed, with so many eyes around, she wouldn’t have greeted him anyway.
Chloe and her group were on their way to the site where the battle had taken place a few days ago. A large number of Edelrin soldiers had returned to their unit, while Fitzmark soldiers had been killed in great numbers—so this was only natural procedure.
However, the group was more tense than ever. It was because of the fear of the fire magic they had experienced before. Its destructive power made Chloe and the others question one thing.
‘Can Edelrin really gain the upper hand in this war?’
The Third Fitzmark War.
On the surface, the reason for this war was simple. An Edelrin delegation that had visited Fitzmark was ambushed and killed by unknown assailants on their way back home.
Edelrin immediately issued a formal protest, but Fitzmark, while expressing regret, ultimately denied any involvement. Instead, they accused Edelrin of fabricating the incident.
Chloe had no way of knowing the complicated truth behind it all. At most, she could guess that the Edelrin royal family had been preparing for war for quite some time. From the very beginning, Edelrin’s army had launched a massive offensive using modern artillery and ammunition.
The problem was that, once the war actually began, Fitzmark revealed an unexpected weapon of their own. The mages, who had been believed to be annihilated during the Second Fitzmark War, were still alive on their side—and their power was strong enough to make up for their numerical disadvantage.
“Chloe, be careful.”
“Got it.”
“How about sticking close to me today? After what happened last time, I’m a bit uneasy.”
“I’ll stay nearby.”
Matthew patted her shoulder a couple of times before moving off to search for survivors. Chloe began collecting the belongings left behind from the bodies of Edelrin soldiers. Handling corpses wasn’t pleasant, but she remained calm and worked efficiently.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t bury you. I’ll make sure your belongings are sent back home instead.”
She gathered weapons and small personal items, placing them into a sack. Identifying the fallen soldiers wasn’t as difficult as one might expect. They had a habit of engraving their names on their belongings.
Calling it a trend felt somewhat cruel, but the practice had spread across both sides. In truth, it was closer to an obsession. Clothes were a given, and if there was even a fingernail-sized space, they would carve or write their names into it.
It was likely the desire that, if something happened to them, news would somehow reach the people waiting for them back home.
Chloe continued scanning the area for Edelrin uniforms.
Then—
A faint voice slipped into her ears.
“W-water… please…”
Her gaze searched for the source of the sound. After a moment, she found a soldier lying on the ground, looking at her with desperate eyes.
But he was wearing a Fitzmark uniform.
“……”
Chloe looked around for her companions to ask for their opinion, but they had already scattered far off, loading the wounded onto carts. She let out a troubled sigh. The situation felt eerily familiar.
If I’m not imagining things, I feel like I’ve been in a similar situation not too long ago. And I don’t like this feeling…
“Please… water…”
“……”
She stared at the soldier again.
In truth, Fitzmark soldiers, when faced with the enemy, tended to be cautious but largely resigned. This place was closer to Edelrin territory than Fitzmark. If he had been left behind for days, it meant he could no longer move on his own.
And when faced with death, anyone would want to cling to even the slightest hope. As a result, enemy soldiers usually chose surrender over dying.
She glanced back at her group again, but the soldier’s weak groans continued.
With a sigh, Chloe stood up. Still wary, she tossed her canteen toward him.
But the soldier didn’t even have the strength to pick it up, let alone open it. After watching for a while, she eventually picked it up again and unscrewed the cap.
“I’ve never been a particularly moral person. But sometimes, refusing someone a sip of water is harder than you’d think. That’s all this is.”
Muttering to herself to ease the tension, she tilted the canteen and let a small stream of water trickle into his mouth. She thought moistening his lips would be enough, but the soldier drank greedily, craving more.
As the amount of water she poured increased, life slowly returned to his eyes.
And then, Chloe realized he was staring straight at her.
Seeing the wild look in his eyes, she tried to pull away—but the soldier grabbed a dagger lying on the ground and swung it.
“Ugh…!”
She quickly stood up, but the blade grazed her arm. Gritting her teeth, she immediately grabbed the rifle slung over her shoulder. As she hesitated between stabbing with the bayonet or firing a shot—
Blood splattered before her eyes.
“Chloe!”
Matthew had rushed over just in time and grabbed her wrist. Smoke rose from the barrel of his gun, and blood was seeping through the torn sleeve of Chloe’s clothing.
“Are you badly hurt?!”
“……”
“Chloe. Are you okay?”
“…Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”
She had frozen for a moment, but soon regained her composure. Pulling her hand away, she calmly picked up the canteen lying on the ground.
She looked down at the soldier’s face—dead, his eyes still open.
Her gaze was cold, but what she felt wasn’t just betrayal.
She wondered.
What had that sip of water meant to him?
Was it a final chance worth trying just before death? Or was it a symbol of the enemy’s foolishness and arrogance?
Turning her back on the corpse, she thought:
I shouldn’t have given him water after all.
—
Chloe and her group barely made it back to the base before sunset. Night was the perfect time for ambushes. At that hour, soldiers from both sides turned into beasts. Once darkness fell, people at the base locked their doors and rarely stepped outside.
Holding a large sack in her arms, Chloe looked around the base. Doctors were moving Edelrin soldiers—and a few Fitzmark soldiers—onto prepared beds.
As she watched for a while, she inevitably met the gaze of a man with blue eyes.
Alvin.
It seemed he had been looking at her the entire time. The moment their eyes met, he crooked his finger at her, beckoning her over.
“He’s really summoning people with just a finger now.”
She let out an incredulous laugh. Matthew, who had been observing her, asked with a puzzled expression,
“Chloe, are you close with him? You seemed together last time too.”
“…Not exactly close. We just talk occasionally.”
Answering somewhat awkwardly, Chloe walked over, still holding the sack. Standing close to the window, she lowered her voice and scolded him.
“You can’t call me over like that when people are watching.”
Alvin looked as if he didn’t see the problem at all.
“What’s the issue? The fact that people are watching, or that I used a gesture?”
“Alvin. Both.”
She cleared her throat once. She had meant to sound stern, but almost ended up laughing instead.
“Where were you?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
She opened the sack to show him—it was filled with all sorts of items.
Chloe looked oddly satisfied, like someone who had just struck gold. Alvin let out a quiet chuckle. He finally understood why so many weapons had spilled out of her the first time they met.
“Thinking of changing careers to grave robbing? Is your original job not paying well?”
“Well… it’s not great, but it’s not like I’m poor either…”
“So you’ve been diligently looting the dead?”
“Looting? The way you phrase things…”
In truth, Alvin wasn’t entirely wrong. Most of the items would be returned to the families, but there was another purpose—ammunition was always scarce, so collecting it was standard practice.
It wasn’t exactly theft, but Chloe still felt slightly embarrassed and began tidying the sack.
Then, Alvin suddenly frowned. His hand shot out swiftly, grabbing her wrist. Startled, she dropped the sack.
“What are you doing all of a sudden?!”
As she tried to pull her arm back, Alvin released her wrist but caught the end of her sleeve between his fingers instead. Her arm dangled awkwardly, like a branch swaying in the wind.
“You’re hurt?”
“……”
“You said you’ve been here for half a year, right? No one told you to keep a wound elevated above your heart?”
“…It’s not that serious. It’s really just a scratch.”
“Anywhere else?”
His eyes scanned her body, making her flustered. But soon, she realized—
He was worried about her.
Alvin… technically, this was your side’s doing.
She was grateful, but at the same time, something about his stance felt off.
“You’re worried about me right now? If something happened to me, that would be good for Fitzmark, wouldn’t it?”
She said it lightly, as if it were nothing—but Alvin simply stared at her.
His expression didn’t change much, but something about it hardened. The temperature in his gaze seemed to drop.
He gently released her sleeve and looked away.
“For someone who calls herself a fairy tale writer… you’ve got a nasty way of talking.”
“…What?”
His words were sharp, completely at odds with his careful movements. Chloe blinked in disbelief, then let out a small laugh.
My innocence was shattered a long time ago—what do you expect me to do about it? And seriously, you shouldn’t attack someone’s profession like that.
Lowering her voice, she asked quietly,
“We joke about this all the time, don’t we? Is it really something to get upset over?”
Alvin fell silent for a moment, then slowly shook his head.
“I’m not upset. So go.”
“…Since when did I become someone who comes when called and leaves when told? Do you happen to know?”
She felt awkward and slightly uncomfortable. He always maintained a relaxed demeanor, but now he seemed oddly irritated. She considered apologizing right away—but decided against it.
Instead, she crouched by the window and began gathering the items she had dropped.
As she packed them back into the sack, his voice came again from above.
“Get it treated.”
“……”
“Don’t just leave it like that.”
She glanced up slightly—but he was already lying down, out of sight.
