Book 9, Chapter 38

Fallen Allies

Half an hour after their departure, Richard was 500 kilometres away from reaper territory in a hidden valley where a wasp had just landed with a large amount of resources and hundreds of worker drones. This was one of the planned supply bases, but he had just arrived too quickly for it to be set up. Waiting for the wasp to descend, he grabbed a bunch of healing potions and armour repair tools and threw them to Macy, “Recuperate and fix your armour, you’re not leaving without my orders.”

“Where are you going?” she frowned at his sudden change in attitude.

“Back to the battlefield, things aren’t going according to plan.”

“I’ll come too! I can take it!” she gritted out, only to be met with a loud slap that sent her to the ground.

“You can’t even hold against a single flesh warrior. You can take it? I’m the one who’ll have to fucking take it! This isn’t a game, it’s war!” Richard spat out coldly, looking down at her even as she glared back with more confusion than pain. His own expression quickly dimmed, “This is my fault. I should have put you with someone else.”

He waved his hand and flew onto a messenger, quickly leaving the bewildered Macy behind. However, she seemed to eventually understand something and went still for a while before gritting and getting back up, walking over to a cave freshly dug out by the worker drones to heal. She couldn’t help but feel a little afraid as dusk fell, the drones completely ignoring her except when they served her some food. For a few hours, it felt like she had been abandoned by the entire world.

Her insecurity grew with the darkness. For someone who was a complete stranger to silence and solitude, the quiet only gave her a number of fears she couldn’t confirm. She was already certain that something had happened to change Richard’s attitude so suddenly, but as she tried to comb through her experiences she was forced to face the sheer number of times she had come close to dying today. The only reason she felt like the reapers were manageable was the fact that Richard had only left behind as many as would serve well to train her. Were it a random sky saint or even legend protecting her, she would be the weakest link and die before anyone else.

The realisation that the talent she prided herself on was nothing on this battlefield was a bitter pill to swallow for a princess who’d been coddled all her life.

Macy’s growing fears were eventually interrupted by a loud whistle from the distance, something that caused her to freeze for a moment before running out of her cave. Several messengers were hauling an enormous figure through the sky, slowly placing down the green giant who immediately collapsed while breathing heavily. Tiramisu was still conscious himself, but Medium Rare had a broken horn and wasn’t even breathing. The thick steel armour was destroyed beyond recognition, scaring Macy out of her wits.

“What happened? Do you need help?” she asked anxiously. No matter how stupidly resilient the ogre was, even he couldn’t move under the effect of such serious injuries. An eerie green light was glowing from the deeper wounds, leaving the flesh unable to regenerate on their own.

While unable to turn his body itself, Tiramisu lifted his head and smiled, “Oh, Miss Macy. Could you bring me some potions? I need a box to drink and more to dress my wounds.”

“Of course!” she flashed away immediately, returning with a full box of healing potions that she opened up and fed to the ogre one by one. She then helped clean his wounds before pouring more into his serious wounds. While the armour that was almost as thick as her thighs left her shuddering for a moment, it only confirmed one thing: if Tiramisu was injured despite this, then she really hadn’t faced anywhere near as much danger as the other teams did.

“Is it tough?” she asked as she poured bottle after bottle of medicine into the wounds before dressing them, her voice abnormally low.

Tiramisu laughed softly before gasping, “Ah… The reapers are… a reckoning. I haven’t gotten this badly hurt in forever… Burp, I’m finally hungry! Thank you!”

Macy heaved a sigh of relief. With ogres, hunger was a great sign that their self-healing was working properly. Hesitating as she watched him pour boxes of rations down his throat, she eventually sat down in front of him and asked, “Did something happen in the afternoon?”

“Afternoon? Hmm…” Tiramisu scratched his head, “Right, I heard an entire team died. I’m guessing more people should have fallen by now…”

“What…” she bit her lower lip, “And what about Richard?”

Tiramisu shook his head, “I’m not sure, but I heard Master went into the deeper sections that were completely controlled by the reapers. He wanted to retrieve the bodies of the team.”

“Alone?!” she gasped, taking a moment to regain her breath, “Don’t they all get turned into those flesh cubes?”

“Master would want to get them back regardless. And even if he couldn’t, he’d at least want to burn them.”

Macy went silent, hugging her knees and hiding her face. She had already repaired her armour so there was nothing to do, but she didn’t know just what she was waiting for herself.

A few hours later, two more messengers arrived with Waterflower and Zangru in tow. Both assassins jumped off with ease, and they didn’t seem to be injured significantly, but the same couldn’t be said of the saints they brought with them. Although Macy wasn’t particularly powerful, she did at least have great perception that allowed her to tell that they were almost out of energy. When it came to those operating from the dark, they either came out unscathed or were left crippled or killed.

For some reason, Zangru’s expression wavered as he saw Macy. He eventually just hummed in acknowledgement and went off to get the supplies he needed, while Waterflower merely furrowed her brows quietly. Both quickly took care of their minimal wounds before helping their subordinates heal, then finding themselves a cave to rest in. The saints accompanying each mostly copied their captains.

The atmosphere in the valley seemed to grow very tense all of a sudden, with Tiramisu being the only one who continued to eat. Medium Rare slowly woke up and ate together with him, even chatting occasionally, but Macy knew that the scenario wasn’t as jovial as it seemed. The ogre was simply eating faster than the drones were bringing him food, which was his way to try and recover as quickly as possible.

Night slowly crawled away, leaving behind only the continuous movements of the worker drones and the chewing noises of the ogre. Macy continued to hug her knees as she leaned against a large boulder, but with the wind growing colder she started to shudder. A saint like her should have been used to chills, but this one was coming from within. Richard still wasn’t back, and she would only be able to relax when she saw that he was safe.

The sky slowly lit up. The ogre had already fallen asleep by this point, but Macy still sat in the same place with her hair now stuck to her forehead with sweat and dew. She looked abnormally pale in the morning light, and that paleness was only amplified as she saw a black dot streaking awkwardly through the sky.

A new messenger quickly appeared over the valley, but this one was flying quite irregularly. Its body finally lost all strength the moment it reached the base, spiraling down to reveal a massive wound that was spewing large amounts of a sticky fluid, and as it dropped headfirst to the ground the person it was carrying got flung into the distance.

“Richard!” Macy jumped and ran over as she saw him roll onto the ground, barely able to maintain a half-kneel as he got back up. She put a hand on his back to support him, but quickly shuddered and withdrew it to find that it was soaked with blood.

“Don’t worry,” he waved her off as he stretched, “I’ll heal in no time.”

“D-Don’t worry?!” she stared at the blood in her hand, voice trembling. She wasn’t someone to be afraid of blood, but Richard was an epic being! Just how serious was the injury if he couldn’t even stem the bleeding himself on his way back?

Richard patted Macy’s hand in reassurance once more, looking up at the grave expressions of his followers who had walked out of their caves. Taking off one of the sacks he was carrying, he revealed a woman’s hand within, a beautiful one with an onyx ring attached.

Macy slapped a hand over her mouth to contain her shock. While only one of those here could recognise the hand itself, they all remembered the striking ring of its owner. This was the person who had been the nicest to her whenever she visited Archeron territory, someone who she considered a friend.

Fuschia was dead.

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