Chapter 17 : Nice and savory!

“Ew, Ptooey!”

Lena gagged and spat out the lizard meat she’d been chewing.

Ugh, so fishy.

She’d heard snake meat boosted stamina, so she’d given it a shot—but it was tough, and the smell… revolting. Lena, who secretly prided herself on her iron stomach, felt nausea hit the moment she bit down. This was inedible garbage. In seconds, the stench had flooded her mouth.

Her first taste of snake meat? A total letdown.

[The lizardman’s venom is entering your bloodstream!]
[Poison Resistance (Lv. Max) detoxifies it!]

Wait—it wasn’t the meat’s fishiness. It was the venom’s.

Above all, eating raw meat without cooking it? Rookie mistake. Unaware of her blunder, Lena decided snake meat just wasn’t her thing. No matter how good it was for stamina, she couldn’t choke down something so vile.

But stamina… stamina was tempting. The word lingered.

Good-for-you stuff always tasted awful—herbal tonics, vegetables, bean-mixed rice. Should she grit her teeth and eat it? She wavered, then gave up. No point obsessing over stamina when she had no “lower body” to use it on.

Still, if the fishiness was the issue, what about another method? Snake wine—soaking it in alcohol might kill the stench. She’d never seen folks eat snake meat in the countryside, but snake wine? Common. It had to taste decent if they drank it.

And this smell—now that she was adjusting—had a subtle, addictive edge. Lena smacked her lips, savoring it.

Hmm, not bad. I could get used to this.

Decision made: You’re all becoming snake wine.

Her eyes glinted ominously.

Shiaaaaa!

The lizardman chieftain’s scream jolted his frozen tribesmen. Pointless, though—most had already lost their will to fight.

He gripped his spear tighter.

“So you’re done being polite. Can’t be a chieftain if you just let your lackeys do the work, huh?”

He’d finally clocked that his subordinates were no match for her. Slow as a beast. Any dumber, and he’d have lost them all. Numbers might’ve worked if they’d swarmed her, but that would’ve left them wiped out against the orcs later.

He had no choice but to step up himself.

The chieftain charged, footsteps thundering. Subordinates in his path flew skyward like they’d been hit by a truck.

Lena blinked.

“A wild boar? Charging that recklessly?”

But it worked—he closed the gap.

His spear thrust lacked martial finesse, but raw monster strength compensated. The air ripped apart, a roaring gust trailing the strike. Fueled by rage—tail torn off, kin slaughtered—it was faster, stronger than she’d expected. Vegetation uprooted, trees snapped. Not just a blow, but a storm.

A full-force attack, proving he wasn’t some ruler-class pawn by fluke.

“Ieon, Ugeueu Aieoee.”

Translation: Respect—he’s not all talk.

The chieftain’s helmet clattered from the impact.

His all-out spear thrust? Caught between Lena’s teeth.

Not dodged—caught with her teeth? Absurd.

The spear trembled with his disbelief. Lena grinned.

Quajik!

Her fangs crushed the shaft. Whipping her head, she swung the spear tip still in her mouth, threading it through his helmet’s gap to slash his eyes.

…!

The chieftain howled. Clutching his face was reflex; his chest gaped open.

Did he trust that flimsy iron armor? Laughable. In fantasy worlds, less coverage meant more protection. What would a beast know?

Lena’s hand darted out.

Quadeudeuk!

The armor crumpled like paper. Her hand withdrew, clutching a beating heart. Blood sprayed like a fountain, drenching her. She licked her lips.

“Hmm, salty. Nice.”

Not quite a beverage, but a decent water substitute.

The chieftain’s massive frame crashed down with a thud.

The tribesmen’s view, once blocked by his bulk, locked onto Lena—smiling, tossing his heart like a toy. A chilling fear spread, thick as fog.

She didn’t single-handedly wipe them out to forge a Great Forest legend. Once the orc main force arrived, Lena hoisted the lady knight onto her back and left. She’d done her part—felled the chieftain, set the table. Even left Badugi behind.

If anyone griped about her ditching the fight to save someone, they were just freeloaders. After that carnage, no orc would dare complain.

“Eucha.”

Lena laid the lady knight on a wiped-down bed. This old house she’d abandoned lacked much for patient care, but it beat her current digs. Patients needed peace—her place was too rowdy now; even the healthy would sicken there.

“Hmm, heavier than I thought—heuk!”

She clapped a hand over her mouth, swallowing the rude slip. What a crass thing to say—she’d be sued if overheard. Luckily, the lady knight hadn’t caught it. With her state, hearing might not even work. A miracle she still breathed.

“A person. A real person.”

Lena stroked her cheek—no scales’ roughness or fur’s bristles, just soft, smooth skin.

“…Heeuk.”

“Hot!”

The lady knight’s groan snapped Lena out of her trance. Excitement fading, she took in the woman’s battered form. Horrific.

“Aeuugh, those cruel bastards. How could they do this to a person?”

Fractured limbs, purple bruises blooming once the armor—oh, that’s why she was heavy—came off. Corpse or human?

Those lizardmen were vicious. She should’ve known when they’d disrupted her meal with their racket. No restraint.

Good thing she’d stepped in, or she’d be clearing another body.

“Hmm.”

Lena checked her wrist for a pulse.

“No clue.”

Just mimicking motions. All she confirmed was a faint beat. Herbalists diagnosed ailments by pulse—some trick she couldn’t grasp.

“Eh, whatever.”

She ditched the doctor act. A quack kills patients. What did a liberal arts major know about medicine? Pretending was a mistake—especially with a life on the line.

Years since meeting a human. Miss this chance, and who knew when another would come?

“I’ll do what I can and leave the rest to fate.”

If her best failed… well, tough luck. In the wild, life and death bowed to chance. At least, being human, she could try something.

Sleeves rolled up, Lena began treating her.

First: clean. Unsanitary conditions harmed patients—common sense. She swept, wiped, and aired out the dilapidated house. Then cleaned the lady knight—blood, fluids, sweat made her squirm.

Ethical qualms surfaced—handling an unmarried woman’s bare body—but this was medical, pure. No impure thoughts for a “doctor.”

Then, real treatment. Lena slathered ointment over her. It looked like a child’s messy art, but it held oriental medicine’s essence: treating symptoms and causes. Like army medics doling out red potion for scrapes, headaches, stomachaches—civilian tiger balm, but better.

Lena knew from experience it energized the body, erased minor bruises overnight. Madecassol on a cold patient? Not that simple. The Great Forest brimmed with mana—elixir herbs grew wild. This ointment, crafted from them with her wild-honed instincts, outdid proper doctors.

She didn’t know that—just hoped it worked.

“Alright, done!”

Wiping sweat, Lena mumbled in relief. The lady knight, coated in green clay-like goo, resembled a liquid monster. Looks didn’t matter—she’d saved a life. Pride swelled.

Then, alone in her triumph, she heard it.

Kruong kruong!

A familiar bark neared—Badugi.

“What, finished already?”

She’d pat him for his effort, but he tugged her clothes, shaking them. Still hyped from the hunt? Biting his master crossed a line.

Before she could reassert dominance, a massive tremor rocked the Great Forest. The hut groaned, ceiling planks dropping.

“…What’s happening?”

Shielding the patient from debris, Lena shook off dust and wood. A collapsed wall revealed the outside.

A storm towered to the clouds—unleashed on the orc-lizardman battlefield.

[A ruler-class monster has appeared!]

The Status Window chimed in—late, as she’d been warned before.