Maxi wondered what horrors awaited them there. She pictured thousands of undead razing villages, small and big, to the ground. The undead army would then lumber toward a walled city, swelling with each victory. Humans slaughtered by the evil monsters would become specters of death, attacking their fellow man as a senseless arm of the monster army. The image of thousands of corpses marching across the frozen earth sent chills down her spine.
She pulled her hood down, hunching her shoulders. Though she bolstered her nerves dozens of times each day, thinking of the impending war never failed to fill her with fear and anxiety.
“My lady.”
Roused from her foreboding thoughts, Maxi turned her head toward the voice. Elliot Charon climbed up the hill, worry etched on his face.
“Please allow me to take your horse to the stable.”
Had it been any other day, Maxi would have refused his help and attended to Rem herself. After riding all day in the harsh wind, however, she barely had any energy left. She gratefully handed the reins to the knight.
“Th-Thank you.”
A smile tugged at his lips as if he were pleased to be allowed to serve her at last. He pulled Rem to his side, then pointed to a newly erected tent at the foot of the hill.
“The sorcerer rests in there. Your ladyship should join him.”
“W-Where is Riftan?”
“The commander has gone to check on the other camps. He should be back soon.”
After giving Elliot a nod, Maxi descended the hill and entered the tent. She found Ruth huddled beneath a blanket before a faintly glowing brazier. He appeared so untroubled that she felt her tension ease a little.
She clicked her tongue as she approached him. “You look like a fattened larva. It’s not even that cold.”
“Your nose is red, my lady,” he replied tersely. Offering her a blanket, he added, “Stop acting invincible. You should look after yourself while you’re able. We’ve no hope of keeping up with the knights if we fail to recuperate whenever possible.”
She meekly accepted the blanket and draped it around herself. Soon, a squire with boyish features entered the tent with a pot of steaming stew, a loaf of singed bread, and a bottle of wine. While she shared the food with Ruth, Maxi kept glancing at the entrance, wondering when Riftan would return. Already, inky blue darkness had descended over the camp, and blazing torches illuminated the hill.
She relied on the faint light they provided to observe the silhouette of the knights. Before long, she spotted Riftan’s shadowy figure striding up the hill with Talon in tow.
She ran to him like the wind. A subtle smile crossed his lips when he saw her. Spreading an arm to embrace her, Riftan looked down with concern and affection.
“We barely stopped to rest today. Did you find it difficult keeping up?”
Maxi vigorously shook her head. “Don’t worry. It was easy!”
He studied her face as if to ascertain her honesty before handing Talon’s reins to the squire trotting behind him.
“Nonetheless,” he said, steering them toward their tent, “I still think you should forgo your training today. Have you had supper?”
“Yes, with Ruth. You haven’t had anything to eat, have you? I shall have someone-”
Maxi was interrupted by a loud commotion. She looked about the camp in confusion and grew wide-eyed when she saw Hebaron running toward them, holding aloft a torch.
Hebaron led an elite detachment half a day’s journey ahead to scout out the army’s route. The fact that he was returning in such haste could only mean there was a problem. Riftan released his arm around her and went to meet the burly knight.
“What is it?”
“We found them on the road. We hurried back because they are in dire need of treatment,” Hebaron replied, pointing his torch at the ridge connected to a valley. “They are residents of Darund Castle who managed to escape when the undead army struck.”
On the dark field, five or six men in ragged clothing were staggering toward the camp with the aid of the knights.
Without thinking, Maxi sprinted down the hill. As she drew closer, she could see their tattered clothes and pallid faces in more detail. Clearly, they had experienced something horrific.
“P-Please take them to the barracks. They must be treated at once.”
At her command, the knights promptly took the wounded to the shared barracks and laid them on straw beds. Placing a lamp nearby, Maxi carefully inspected their conditions. The men wore bandages on their limbs and shoulders, and one even had a dark bruise on his face, likely from being hit by a blunt weapon.
Knowing that head injuries were more likely to cause permanent consequences, she healed the man with the bruise first.
Relieved of the pain, the man mumbled, “Th-Thank you,” even as he remained sitting hunched over in fear.
Maxi promptly moved on to the next patient. Carefully, she managed to peel off his frozen, bloody bandage, revealing a deep gash. Fortunately, the bones appeared to be intact, but the skin around the wound was nearly gray from the bleeding.
With a small groan, she called to the knights behind her, “G-Get me hot water! I need to clean the wound first.”
Suddenly, Riftan was behind her, bending down to examine the injury. “It’s a sword wound,” he remarked.
Maxi looked up at his grave expression in surprise.
Riftan turned to the young man she had just treated. “You said you’re from Darund? Your village was attacked?”
“Yes,” the young man replied, the sorrow stark on his face. “A horde of armored ghouls attacked the castle. They ravaged the village within minutes… Some of us managed to escape and sought refuge in the castle, but others weren’t so lucky. There is no knowing how many managed to survive.”
“Armored ghouls…” Riftan muttered, pensively inspecting the man’s gash. “And clearly adept at using weapons. Could be the corpses of recently killed soldiers.”
“Probably the dead knights of the East,” said Hebaron, observing the scene from the entrance. “Reports say two walled cities have fallen despite the reinforcements sent by the eastern lords, and three castles are under siege. The soldiers who perished in battle might have turned into these undead monsters.”
Maxi felt her blood run cold. The same fate could await them if they died in this war, cursed to roam in torment as undead beings, unable to enter heaven. There was no worse end imaginable for the followers of God. It was a fate worse than death.
Seized with fear, she blurted, “W-What were the parish clerics doing? Is it not their duty to prevent such a thing?”
“Purifying hundreds of casualties at once is no easy feat, even for a high priest,” Hebaron explained. “For a parish cleric, it would be overwhelming.”
So they were risking not only their lives, but also their souls in this war. Maxi bit her lip, the terror rising like bile in her throat. She pretended to focus on treating the man’s wound to hide her growing panic. Somehow, Riftan seemed to sense the tension oozing out of her.
He placed a firm hand on her shoulder and regarded her stiffly. He looked as if he was about to speak, then seemed to change his mind. Addressing Hebaron, he said, “The battle starts tomorrow. Make sure everyone eats well and gets plenty of rest!”
“What about you, Commander?”
“I must convene an emergency meeting.” Slowly rising to his feet, he said to Maxi bluntly, “I shall have Ruth come help you, so don’t try to treat the men by yourself.”
Maxi obediently bobbed her head. After eyeing her skeptically, Riftan sent one of the knights to fetch Ruth at once before leaving the tent.
Ruth came trudging in shortly after. They took turns casting healing magic on the six injured men. The soldiers were then instructed to bring their wounded comrades something to eat. Afterward, they inspected the magic devices and stones to be used in the upcoming battle. It was pitch black outside by the time they finished for the day.
Ruth sighed wearily, gazing up at the dark sky. “We should head back to the barracks now.”
The intermittently falling snowflakes were growing bigger.
“I must go rest for tomorrow,” he said.
“Y-You will not wait to hear about the meeting?”
“I’ll know by morning anyway.”
With a yawn, Ruth headed back to the barracks. Maxi watched him go, wondering if she would ever be as calm as him. Shaking her head, she made toward Riftan’s tent.
It was warm inside, the squires having preemptively lit the braziers. Removing her coat, she slipped into the bed of thick layers of rush mats and blankets. She pulled the covers up to her chin. Exhaustion rolled over her, but anxiety about the looming battle kept her wide awake.
She heard someone enter the tent. Maxi quickly closed her eyes, not wanting to upset him when he found her still awake. She listened as Riftan removed his armor, washed his hands, and climbed into bed. A whiff of soap and leather tickled her nose, followed by a metallic scent that clung to his tunic. He draped an arm over her waist, pulling her against his chest.
Surprise pricked at her. Since the start of the campaign, he had always maintained some distance when they slept. Was he anxious about the battle too? And was she the cause of his anxiety?
Maxi turned and pulled him close, passionately kissing his warm lips. A low moan escaped his throat. She tipped her head back as his hot tongue entered her mouth.
The kiss had started as a way to seek comfort, but soon her breathing grew ragged, and heat began to simmer between her legs.
Her hands ventured inside his tunic, caressing his hardened abdomen. Riftan shuddered, and his warm breath brushed her neck.
