In the Nest of the Fallen Serpent - Chapter 70

Schedule: Thurs and Sun

Chapter 70

There had never been a time he’d felt particularly good, yet neither had there been any cause for displeasure. Benedict’s gaze lowered thoughtfully. “The treatment of the wounded is progressing smoothly. For several days now, there haven’t been any more deaths.”

Wounded. Treatment. Those two words caught in his ears, and Benedict’s eyebrow twitched. He finally realized what had been nagging at him. He hadn’t wanted to bring her, the woman, outside the manor walls. Not from the beginning, not really even now. And then, another question arose from a different corner of his mind.

Why? What was so significant about a slave’s outing, a slave who couldn’t even escape? From the start, her divine power was meant to be exploited. If exploiting one slave from a fallen kingdom could save his territory’s people and soldiers, nothing could be more beneficial. But why? Benedict frowned, realizing his thoughts were drastically different from his initial plan. He was aware that his judgment was irrational.

His thoughts continued to unravel, one after another. Click, click. The motion of opening and closing his pocket watch became somewhat agitated. Amidst his thoughts, a conversation among the meeting attendees caught his attention. “Everyone is curious about who’s been providing the treatment.”

“I heard the soldiers in the critically wounded ward are calling her a saint.”

His carefully maintained composure shattered instantly. An extreme sense of displeasure washed over Benedict, a destructive and fierce hatred, a chilling rage. Who dares to call her that, again? A fleeting, incongruous thought flickered through his mind, but his reason, momentarily consumed by intense anger, missed it.

“Saint?” His voice, laced with killing intent, echoed ominously. “Who dared give her that name?” An unconcealed, chilling aura emanated from him, an intensity that would be difficult for even seasoned soldiers, let alone monsters, to withstand. “That is… ugh, the healing speed is so fast… Moreover, the way she visits while they sleep and disappears without a trace, it’s as if she’s an angel…” The knight commander stammered, pale as if he were being choked.

“Nonsense,” Benedict dismissed curtly. Saint? Preposterous. Wasn’t that a being from Crozeta, the so-called Holy Kingdom, a being that existed only a hundred years ago? He reined in the oppressive aura surrounding him and replied, “See to it that such baseless rumors don’t spread. This meeting is adjourned.”

Benedict rose without delay, Moritz silently following behind him. The man, who left without acknowledging any farewells, headed towards a carriage parked nearby. The Grand Duchy’s knights guarded the carriage’s perimeter meticulously. Benedict’s pace quickened slightly. Just as he flung open the carriage door…

“Master?” The woman with the clear, bright face, who had been sitting quietly, looked up. She hadn’t gone anywhere, hadn’t been hurt, and had been waiting for him. His irritation, sharp and prickly just moments ago, subsided instantly. The sensation was similar to the relief he felt when his headaches disappeared.

Benedict gazed briefly at the woman, who never ceased to amaze him, before entering the carriage and closing the door. “You must have waited long.” Moritz had brought her here before attending the meeting, so a considerable amount of time had passed. “You must have been bored.”

“No,” Hilde shook her head and smiled at him. “I sat here and looked outside… I enjoyed it.” He had expected a polite response, but he hadn’t expected her to say she enjoyed it. Time and again, she defied his expectations. “Earlier, I saw the child whose leg I healed practicing walking.”

Benedict looked at her with slightly unfamiliar eyes as she blushed, seemingly embarrassed to speak of her own deeds. “Tell me what else you saw.”

“Ah…” After a moment’s hesitation, she began to recount her observations. “I saw a puppy passing by… that’s right, a puppy with yellow fur. It seemed to be looking for food…”

Benedict had never engaged in such trivial chatter. He considered unnecessary conversations mere noise. But her chattering voice was like the chirping of birds on a quiet morning. It was pleasant, so pleasant that he felt he could listen to it all day. That was why he suddenly spoke of something he thought she might want to hear. “Those you healed are grateful and curious about you.”