Chapter 10: Emergency Measures

I shook the axe hidden behind my back, the crimson blood-flame wrapped around it fading away.

The axe was so dull I had to use the evil god’s secret art, enchanting it with blood.

Since it was the evil god’s black magic, I couldn’t let anyone see.

At that thought, my right palm’s wound burned like fire, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

Yes, I’d cut it myself—blood enchantment required smearing my own blood on the weapon.

I held my left hand aloft, savoring the boy’s shocked gaze.

Sure, he was just a farmer boy, but swooping in with a divine weapon to defeat the enemy and earn admiration—that’s what an isekai’s all about.

In his eyes, I must look like a hero right now.

But to my surprise, the ungrateful boy grabbed my hand, trying to pull me up.

“Ah!”

The wound on my palm stung, and I yelped.

Honestly, I just thought holding my hand up looked cool, plus it helped slow the bleeding.

The boy let go in a panic.

“Oh—sorry! Is your hand hurt? We need to bandage it to stop the bleeding!”

He stood, trying to check my palm’s condition, as the jackal’s corpse rolled aside.

“Forget it!”

I yanked my left hand back, hiding it behind me.

“Instead of me, you should worry about yourself!”

“Me…?”

Nolan then felt a bone-deep pain in his left arm, unable to move it.

He knew the jackal had torn it to the bone and braced himself to look.

One glance, and he couldn’t bear to look again.

I looked at the boy’s arm—flesh torn apart, tendons and muscles exposing white bone—and grimaced.

Honestly, such a gory sight was nauseating, but I’d just split a jackal’s skull with an axe, so feeling sick now was a bit late.

“How do you feel…”

“I’m… dizzy… I was fine just a moment ago.”

Nolan breathed heavily, leaning back against the tree.

I knew it was because, during the crisis, survival instincts had spiked his vitality.

Now, with the danger gone, blood loss and pain brought weakness flooding back.

“Don’t fall asleep—”

He needed treatment fast—I thought, but I had no first-aid experience, and Kritiya hadn’t been taught it either.

All I could recall were scraps of knowledge from my past life.

“I think you’re supposed to tie a tourniquet above the heart—” I thought.

“Tourniquet, where’s a tourniquet—”

Right, the hemp rope tying my pants—I remembered.

I dropped the axe, untied the belt with a tug, and stepped out of the pants.

“Wait, what are you doing? Stop!”

Nolan, already dazed, snapped awake at the sight, struggling to back away.

“Stay still! Moving will make the bleeding worse.”

I held the rope in one hand, stepping out of the pants on the ground.

Since the shirt barely covered mid-thigh, I knelt beside the boy.

Normally, I’d care about propriety, but with my legs freezing and only wanting to finish the first aid and get back to a warm room, I had no other thoughts.

“Hey, don’t sleep, stay alert… let’s talk,”

I said, having heard that people losing blood could die if they fell asleep, so you had to keep them talking.

“Uh… okay,” Nolan stammered.

“So… why were you out here so late?” I asked casually, eyeing his wound.

They say you need to find the artery, but I couldn’t tell where it was—tying it should work, right?

“I was checking snares in the woods… usually check them once at night.”

“Why?”

“In case something breaks free…”

“Alright, catch anything?”

“Nothing…”

I kept up the small talk, recalling bits of first-aid knowledge.

I tied the rope tightly around the middle of his upper arm, then picked up the pants, measured against his arm, and wrapped them around the wound in loops.

“Ugh—”

Maybe realizing I was bandaging him, the boy calmed down.

The worn linen pants tore easily, becoming makeshift bandages.

“There… that should stop the bleeding,” I said, standing.

“Probably… hold it steady.”

“I understand…”

Nolan gasped, slowly standing on his own strength.

“This is just temporary. You need proper treatment, and my hand needs bandaging too—where’s a doctor?”

“Mr. Berly, at the village church—” Nolan said, vision blurring.

“Then let’s go,” I said.

“It’s this way to the village,” Nolan nodded, stepping forward but wobbling, nearly hitting the ground again.

Then he felt a soft body supporting him.

I propped up the boy’s side, saying softly.

“Walk slowly.”

“Okay, okay,” Nolan opened his mouth but said nothing, just gripping my shoulder with his good hand.

We limped toward the village.

As we walked, Nolan’s eyes widened.

He saw jackal corpses strewn across the woods, black-red blood pooling—about a dozen, all like this.

Did she—a frail-looking girl—kill them all?

He couldn’t help but glance at the silver-gray-haired girl beside him.

I noticed his look and explained.

“These corpses need to be burned, or they might attract more. The bear’s corpse too.”

I didn’t actually know if more would come, but the evil god’s black magic knowledge suggested burning was the safest way.

“I understand…” Nolan was silent for a moment, then replied.

***

We crossed the woods into the sleeping village, quiet in the night.

At the church door, Nolan raised his good hand, knocking.

“Mr. Berly! Sorry—but I need to bother you!”

“What’s going on…”

After a moment, the wooden door creaked open.

Berly, bleary-eyed, saw the blood-soaked boy.

“What… what happened?” Berly’s eyes widened.

Nolan spoke.

“Mr. Berly, jackals—we were attacked by jackals!”

“Jackals? How—where?” Berly froze, then saw Nolan’s roughly bandaged arm.

“Goodness—what happened?

Get inside quick.”

Nolan started to enter but turned back, looking at the girl outside the fence.

Since entering the village, she’d let go of him, following silently, but the village roads were smoother than the mountain, so walking was easier.

“This is the place,” he said, noticing a hint of hesitation on her face.

Should I go in?

I hesitated only a moment before stepping into the churchyard.

Sure, I was bound by the evil god’s contract, but a small church like this probably wouldn’t notice, right?

As for guilt—trouble worried me more.

In the novel, evil god followers and black sorcerers were deranged lunatics.

I didn’t want to get too involved.

The church and nobles were hell-bent on wiping out anything tied to the evil god.

‘Speaking of… did the novel mention how to break an evil god’s contract?’

I’d have to find a way to undo it someday.

Thinking this, I walked into the church.

The cleric named Berly lit an oil lamp.

The church was bare, with just a few pews under the pulpit.

I eyed his black robe—likely a low-ranking scribe, only needing to pray and preach.

Well, in a rural church, that’s not surprising.

“Alright—don’t talk yet, we’ll sort it out later,” Berly said, sitting Nolan on a front pew, rummaging through his medicine box.

But Nolan spoke.

“Mr. Berly—she’s hurt too. Please check her first—”

“Huh—me?”

I leaned against the door, glancing at my palm.

The blood had clotted.

I spread my fingers, showing Berly.

“Look, it’s just this much. I think the life-threatening wound should come first—”

“This young miss—oh, it’s you…”

Berly recognized me, squinting for a moment, then agreed.

“Nolan, your injury’s severe. I’ll bandage yours first—sorry, I’m alone here. Young miss, take this gauze and press it on your wound…”

“Press the wound… alright,” I thought absently, taking the gauze.

“Wait, from how Mr. Berly called him, what’s this boy’s name… Roland? Nolan?”

The pronunciation hit me, and I nearly dropped the gauze.

I looked ahead, where Berly was undoing my sloppy bandaging, fetching water in a copper basin to clean the wound.

The flaxen-haired boy gritted his teeth, silent.

The novel’s male protagonist—yes, that was his name.

Though the script differed between worlds, I could tell the pronunciation.

No way it’s that coincidental, right?

I thought, wanting to step forward and confirm if he was Roland or Nolan.

But suddenly, my body stopped obeying me.

No doubt—Kritiya had woken up.

I’d noticed a pattern since the Seed of the Evil God was implanted.

When Kritiya was in deep sleep or unconscious, I could take over her body.

But her priority was highest—when she woke, I was powerless.

Waking in a strange place with unexplained wounds, Kritiya must be panicking—I tried sensing her emotions but was surprised.

It wasn’t what I expected.

Fear, confusion, curiosity, speechlessness?

It was a feeling I’d never known in either life, nameless, stirring faintly.

Through my connection with Kritiya, I glimpsed its shape.

Kritiya seemed stunned, staring at the wound on her pale palm, unaware the gauze had fallen to the floor.

I thought she was scared, but then the girl gently brought her hand to her mouth and licked it.

The clotted blood broke open, a mix of pain and itch, the rusty sweetness spreading on her tongue…