"Things turning out like this really caught me off guard…"
"Tell me about it… hiss… hey, be a bit gentler…"
A light breeze swept through the tall wild grass by the roadside, carrying with it the warmth and scent of the setting sun. It would have been perfect if not for that foul black smoke. Just a slight inhale of it felt like having one's throat seized by a vengeful spirit, leaving you gasping for air—though, oddly enough, it didn't make this evening any more unbearable than it already was.
Hielaina sat quietly on a broken wooden ammunition crate, trying to steady herself through the work at hand and calm the lingering shock from earlier. Compared to Edwin beside her, she was actually rather fortunate.
"Weren't you two sitting together just now? How did it end up with only you getting hurt?" Otto dragged over another damaged ammo crate and said to Hielaina, "This is the last one."
After Nordhausen's deft and practiced bandaging, Edwin was back on his feet. The rest would be handled by Potion No. 2.
"You all know my luck…"
He shrugged helplessly, then adjusted the bandage wrapped around his head.
With the battered ammo crate in hand, Hielaina got to work. She pried open the sealed panel with a crowbar, then carefully sorted the contents—discarding the badly damaged rounds that were leaking gunpowder, while setting aside the intact, oil-paper-wrapped cartridges that were still neatly boxed. The loose rounds that showed no real problems were poured into another crate, mixed together with the usable ammunition salvaged from the previous damaged boxes.
With the sudden monster crisis behind them, the Fourth Platoon set off on their return journey. Based on past experience, once they reached camp someone would probably come assign them a new mission—by the next day, or perhaps even later that very night, they'd be heading out again. But, to be honest, ever since the princess had joined the Fourth Platoon, those relentless, back-to-back missions seemed to have stopped. Was that them benefiting from her presence?
As for Idri, who was all alone with nowhere to go and clearly in poor condition, they decided to bring him back first. They figured there might be some odd jobs for him at the garrison—after all, according to what he'd said, the Church of Davole wasn't particularly welcoming to people like them who had converted later on. At least this way, he wouldn't starve. He himself didn't voice any clear objections; hopefully, life going forward would help him slowly regain his footing.
As for the situation at hand…
Looking at the truck that had overturned off the road earlier and had now been set upright again, Otto shook his head and let out a quiet sigh.
The two trucks had been driving along just fine when, for reasons unknown, the lead vehicle suddenly jerked its steering and plunged straight into the roadside ditch, flipping completely over. Fortunately, the accident wasn't too serious—only two Night Knights suffered minor scrapes.
The driver was said to be a seasoned veteran from the transport corps. During earlier idle chatter, he'd even talked about his past exploits—driving ammunition-laden trucks through city streets choked with rubble under enemy artillery fire at night, or leading a convoy to break out of enemy encirclements after being ambushed mid-mission. He hardly seemed like the sort to make a rookie mistake. And according to his own account…
"I don't know what came over me. Everything just went black all of a sudden—I don't remember anything. When I came to, the truck was already upside down in the ditch…"
He looked at everyone apologetically, though the experience had clearly left him just as baffled.
"Maybe you didn't get enough rest? Or could it be your age catching up with you—something wrong with your body? Humans really are pretty fragile," someone remarked.
Huh? Had the little black cat voluntarily expelled herself from the ranks of humanity now?
"I don't think so. I had a physical exam just last year—the doctor said I was in great shape and fit to stay in the army. And these recent missions haven't been all that demanding. I haven't been sleep-deprived either…"
He lowered his gaze, pondering the cause, trying to reason it out. But aside from some sudden physical issue, he truly couldn't explain why he'd lost consciousness like that.
"Ah… guess I really am getting on in years…"
In the end, the driver could only sigh about time—the great guillotine that eventually comes for everyone's youthful days.
"Could it have been that monster from earlier? Didn't you say it could affect people's consciousness?"
Hielaina leaned over toward Inaya as she spoke.
"Who knows," Inaya replied.
…
With one truck gone, they had no choice but to squeeze into the remaining one—the vehicle originally meant for transporting supplies.
Based on the judgment of the four transport soldiers from both trucks, the overturned vehicle's engine had unfortunately smashed into a rock, causing damage that would be extremely difficult to repair on the spot. It would have to wait until friendly forces advanced to this area to be hauled away for proper repairs. The other truck, though meant for supplies, could still fit everyone if they packed in a bit tighter. This wasn't the time to be picky.
"How rare—you've been quiet this whole time."
Though she'd already gotten used to the bumps, the silence made the ride rather dull. Hielaina tilted her head and glanced at Inaya, who was sitting to Shatiel's right with her eyes closed, resting.
"Don't mess with me. I'm resting,"
Inaya frowned slightly, clearly not in the mood to talk.
It really was strange. She'd been in the rear earlier and hadn't directly taken part in the fight with the monster, yet now she looked exhausted. Well, if she didn't want to chat, then so be it.
Hielaina shifted her gaze to the men sitting opposite them. They had their eyes closed as well—Nordhausen had even started snoring…
"Here."
At that moment, Shatiel beside her pulled something from her pocket and held it out in front of Hielaina.
"I grabbed a few extra this morning. You're probably hungry."
Looking more closely, it turned out to be a chocolate biscuit—the same kind that had been laid out on the tables at the staff banquet earlier that day. Still wrapped, and apparently a special-issue version.
"I kind of am~"
By now it was about time for dinner anyway. Smiling contentedly, Hielaina took the chocolate, tore open the wrapper, and broke off a piece to pop into her mouth.
The biscuit was about the size of her palm, coated in a thick layer of chocolate. The flavor was decent enough, though if one judged the chocolate alone, it was still a bit coarse compared to what she'd eaten in the palace before—royal chefs were in a league of their own, after all. Paired with the biscuit, however, that shortcoming was somewhat masked, letting the whole thing escape its usual standards of comparison. Besides, Hielaina wasn't particularly picky about food, and under the current circumstances, having something like this was already quite nice.
"Open up—"
Breaking off another piece, Hielaina used it to gently pry open Shatiel's lips—serves her right for not listening~
"Your Highness, I'm really not hungry…"
Even so, Shatiel eventually complied, parting her lips slightly and letting Hielaina feed her the biscuit—then, with a mischievous flick, she licked Hielaina's fingertip.
"You little—"
Caught off guard by Shatiel's sudden attack, Hielaina's cheeks flushed a faint red. She quickly glanced around, just to be sure—thankfully, everyone else was still resting. As for the culprit, Shatiel wore a smug smile of victory.
"Ahem… is there any for me?"
At some point, Inaya had leaned over as well, eyeing the chocolate biscuit with obvious curiosity—nearly startling Hielaina.
"Weren't you resting?"
"How can you rest properly without eating something?"
The little black cat replied righteously, not the least bit polite, as she helped herself by snapping off a large portion of the biscuit.
"Well, you're certainly not shy about it."
"Why would I be polite with you? You're an emperor—an entire country is yours. Surely you won't begrudge me a single biscuit."
She stuffed the remaining small piece into her mouth in one go, her words coming out slightly muffled as she spoke.
"…"
For once, Hielaina found herself at a loss for words. It seemed Inaya's verbal sparring skills improved noticeably whenever food was involved.
"If you want more, I've still got some here."
What caught Inaya off guard was Shatiel suddenly pulling out another biscuit—identically wrapped—and holding it out to her.
"This… is for me?"
Inaya eyed it suspiciously, even leaning back a little. Why had the usually ferocious Shatiel suddenly turned into such a generous soul? No, something was definitely fishy.
"If you don't want it, forget it."
Before Inaya could finish her internal debate, Shatiel made as if to put the biscuit away.
"Wait—"
In the end, her desire for new food triumphed over caution and reason. With lightning speed, Inaya snatched the chocolate biscuit straight from Shatiel's hand.
"Thanks~"
The airy, almost careless gratitude was very much in Inaya's style. Shatiel helplessly lowered her now-empty right hand, glanced at her watch, then closed her eyes to rest again.
"?"
Sensing something against her shoulder, she opened her eyes slightly—only to find Hielaina's head resting there.
Sleep now, my princess. The road ahead is still a long one.