Chapter 24 : Stop the violence!

A Dance of Blades and Bonds

The Uneven Skirmish

The clash between the Lady Knight and Badugi was less a duel and more a lopsided spectacle. From Lena’s vantage point, the wolf was clearly holding back. He sidestepped the Lady Knight’s feeble swings with ease, and when her balance faltered, he nudged her gently upright with a paw.

“Mocking me…!” the Lady Knight spat, her face flaming with humiliation. The contrast to her usual composure sent a shiver down Lena’s spine—Ooh, that expression on her cool face… wow. Snapping out of her trance, Lena assessed the scene. The knight’s body wasn’t healed; each reckless move tore her wounds anew, blood speckling the ground. Left unchecked, she’d undo all the effort to save her.

“Stop the violence!” Lena thrust out a palm, her voice firm. The scuffle halted instantly. Badugi, never eager to fight, relaxed, while the Lady Knight froze, gaping at Lena as if she’d seen a specter.

“I get it—stiffness makes you want to move—but what if it turns serious? You need rest,” Lena chided. She understood the urge; her father had been the same, restless even after grueling workdays, insisting on morning workouts. Lena didn’t share the impulse, but recent exertion had given her a glimmer of insight. Still, this wasn’t stretching—it was swordplay. She’s begging to collapse again, then blame the healer. Lena wouldn’t indulge such nonsense. Troublemakers weren’t welcome.

“I thought you were eaten… How…? You couldn’t be fine in a day!” the Lady Knight stammered, her voice muddled—likely feverish, vision swimming. Lena sighed inwardly, stepping forward to steady her.

“Stop squirming. Look, the blood’s starting again. I’ll clean it—bear the itch.” She dabbed the wounds gently, relieved the bleeding was light. Wiping a sleeping patient was one thing; doing it while the knight stared felt oddly intimate. “Lie down slowly. Good. I’ll reapply the ointment—no peeling it off this time.”

Should I tie her up? The thought flickered—restraint might keep her still, maybe even comfortable. Tempting, but lacking tools, Lena dismissed it. “Sleep until I bring soup. Close your eyes; you’ll drift off.”

“No…”

“Or I can make you sleep.” A flick to the forehead would suffice, bleaching her mind of defiance. Too weak a tap might need a second; too hard, and—well, more rest wouldn’t hurt. The Lady Knight’s face twisted—embarrassed? Shy?—as Lena’s hand hovered. Before Lena could decide, the knight squeezed her eyes shut, breath evening into slumber.

Tsk tsk, Lena clucked, tucking the blanket snugly around her.

A Caregiver’s Duty

Ten days passed before the Lady Knight could move without strain, tended by Lena with unwavering care. Meals arrived thrice daily, tailored to her recovery: soup for the first three days, then cautious bites of jerky, paired with tangy fruits for vitality—Lena’s humanities knowledge proving unexpectedly practical. Beyond mealtimes, she kept her distance, resisting the urge to chat. Even when the knight pleaded to talk, Lena held firm—rest trumped all.

When pain kept sleep at bay, Lena intervened, a swift tap sending her into oblivion with devoted precision. At last, confirming her improvement, Lena approached.

“You…”

“It’s Lena.”

“…Lena?”

“Yes, my name.” Introductions were the bedrock of connection, a courtesy Lena wouldn’t skip. The knight’s bewilderment lingered, her silence stretching. No name in return? Lena wondered, halting her spiraling thoughts. Surely gratitude outweighed rudeness after a life saved.

“It’s my name, apparently,” Lena added lightly. “Feels odd to me too.” The status window had branded her thus, a title she’d grown into despite its unfamiliarity. Names were gifts, after all—hers no exception.

“…First, my thanks,” the Lady Knight said, sitting up to bow deeply, a crisp 90-degree fold. “I don’t know the details, but you’re my benefactor. I owe you my life—words can’t repay it.”

“Ehem.” Lena’s chin lifted, pride swelling. She’d earned this, ulterior motives or not—saving a life was no small feat.

“I swear on my honor as a knight, I’ll repay you. Money, a task—name it.”

“That’s fine,” Lena waved off. Gold from the Dragon Lair made wealth moot, and what task could this Lizardmen-beaten knight fulfill that Badugi couldn’t? “Let’s just talk instead.”

“Talk…”

“Yes, I’ve been dying to speak with someone.” Loneliness gnawed at her—a human thirst no forest could quench. Even idle chatter would do.

“I’ll oblige,” the Lady Knight nodded eagerly. “I have questions too.”

Thus, the wild girl of the Great Forest bridged the gap to civilization.

A Knight’s Lament

The Instructor’s Regret

“Damn it,” the knight muttered, raking a hand through his curly hair, a mirror to his tangled thoughts. Fifteen days had passed since the Knight Order’s initiation—a brutal three-day rite now ended. Most recruits had returned, some broken, others triumphant, but one remained unaccounted for: the batch’s brightest gem.

“I knew this might happen,” he growled. Her peers confirmed she’d ventured alone into the Great Forest’s depths, driven by zeal or folly. It wasn’t unheard of—once, under the Red Rose Knights’ reign, such recklessness was routine, youth blurring courage and hubris. Back then, talent overflowed; losses were shrugged off. Not now. She was a rare spark in a dim era, and her senseless loss stung.

“Rescue’s not an option,” he sighed. The Order wouldn’t spare forces for one recruit, no matter her promise. Waiting was all he could do—fifteen days proving it futile. “Survival odds are nil.” The Great Forest devoured the unwary. Orders to return pressed him; lingering was pointless.

“May she rest in peace,” he murmured, releasing his hopes. A miracle might bring her back, but he’d long ceased believing in those—denied too often. With a heavy turn, he left the forest behind, its secrets unyielding.