Chapter – 67
Ding!
[Notification: The Baby Dragon has cast <Purifying Breath>!]
‘Purifying Breath…?’
[Purifying Breath]
The breath of dragons is, in itself, a superior form of magic.
A certain archmage, while researching dragons…
<Effect> Removes status ailments such as Poison, Mutation, Curse, Freeze, Burn, etc.
“Phew, hooooo.”
The baby dragon continued to exhale [Purifying Breath], ‘purifying’ Gwen’s corpse.
About a minute had passed like that.
“Ah.”
Calyle realized that Gwen had completely regained her appearance from when she was alive.
Her face, which had been grotesquely contorted, now looked as peaceful as if she were fast asleep. Her dying skin seemed to have regained vitality, and her bluish lips now had a slight gloss.
“Huff, huff, huff.”
The baby dragon panted, having finished the ‘purification’.
“Bu-butler. Is this enough? Huff, huff.”
“Yeah, you did well.”
“But why does Butler look like that?”
“Like what?”
“You look more troubled than before.”
“That’s……”
Calyle was momentarily speechless. He closed his mouth for a moment, then answered the baby dragon’s question.
“It’s like she might wake up at any moment.”
“Butler……”
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I’ll give you food later, just hold on a bit.”
“Okay.”
Perhaps sensing the mood, the baby dragon simply nodded without another word and went back into Calyle’s embrace.
“Haaaaam.”
With a yawn, the baby dragon curled up and fell into a deep sleep.
It seemed somewhat tired, likely from using [Purifying Breath].
“You okay?”
Begman approached and placed a hand lightly on Calyle’s shoulder.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Your expression says otherwise.”
“……”
“He was from the 2nd Engineer Squad, right? He was such a bright kid. A bit clumsy, though.”
It seemed Begman knew Gwen too.
Then again, how many troops were stationed at Bowden Fortress?
“It couldn’t have been love at first sight. How often would they have met? But you’re so handsome, kid, so it’s possible he fell for you.”
“What kind of nonsense are you suddenly spouting?”
Calyle frowned.
He couldn’t understand Begman’s intention at all, making such comments in front of a corpse.
“Just listen. I’m just explaining the reason for your reaction.”
“……”
“If you’re reacting like this despite not having a special relationship… it means this kid was your ‘Final Instructor’.”
“Final Instructor?”
It was an expression he was hearing for the first time. Calyle tilted his head.
“Hearing it for the first time?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you’re a Sigmund, so you wouldn’t have needed to graduate from a training camp.”
“Yes, well. I suppose not.”
That wasn’t unique to the Sigmund family.
Those born into martial families that mainly produced knights trained in swordsmanship and accumulated military knowledge like strategy and tactics from a young age, so they had no need to enroll in training camps or study at knight academies.
Especially for someone from the Sigmund family.
“We’re different. We’re just ordinary commoners. When we enlist, the first thing we do is enter a training camp for basic military training.”
“I see.”
“Most of what the instructors teach is useful. Each one is a gem. Though from a trainee’s perspective, it’s a pain in the ass.”
Begman chuckled, seemingly reminiscing about his training camp days.
“The instructors teach almost all the essential knowledge a soldier needs to know. But there’s one thing even those instructors can’t teach.”
“What’s that?”
“Losing a comrade.”
“……!”
“Training camp instructors can only teach trainees not to die stupidly by being clueless, but they can’t teach them how it feels to lose a comrade. You only know that by experiencing it.”
“Right.”
“A true soldier… has to lose a comrade. Only then do you realize what the battlefield is really like, and how fucking awful it is.”
“Ah.”
Calyle finally understood what Begman meant.
“That’s why we call the first comrade we lose our ‘Final Instructor’. Derick died first, but you probably never exchanged more than a few words with him, so you wouldn’t have cared if he lived or died. Thinking that way… this kid here is your Final Instructor.”
“Is that how it is?”
“Yeah. I don’t know what effect this kid’s death will have on you… but now, send him off.”
Begman took out the Decaron flag he had been carrying in his kit and handed it to Calyle.
“Here, take it.”
“……”
“This kid needs to rest now. Send him off.”
“Under… stood.”
Calyle took the national flag and bowed towards Gwen’s body.
Wiping his blood-stained hands on his uniform, he carefully closed Gwen’s eyes.
Perhaps because she hadn’t been dead long, or because of the [Purifying Breath], her eyes closed easily.
With that, Gwen’s face became truly peaceful, as if she were sound asleep.
‘Rest in peace.’
Thinking that, Calyle covered Gwen’s body with the Decaron flag.
‘Farewell, my Final Instructor.’
And so, Calyle sent off his first comrade.
Even sane people go a bit crazy during military life.
Just being confined in a controlled environment is mentally taxing, and adding physical hardship makes it perhaps inevitable for one’s mental state to fluctuate.
How much more so for soldiers serving in a place where fierce battles break out almost daily?
Was that why?
The reactions the soldiers showed after the battle seemed, at a glance, very bizarre.
They shouted victory cheers, rejoicing, then wept over the corpses of their fallen comrades. Once the body retrieval was roughly done, they chatted and joked as if nothing had happened.
Then they’d remember a dead comrade and become gloomy again…
‘Just pick one, just one.’
Calyle had a hard time getting used to the soldiers’ behavior.
But now he understood.
Why they had no choice but to act that way.
He suddenly recalled a conversation he had had with Marder.
We weren’t always this weird, you know. It’s the environment we’re in, this blood-soaked land, that made us this way. You’ll start to see it soon, but this is a place where comrades die left and right every day. Guys you laughed, cried, and struggled with disappear overnight. Just like when Derick died.
I understand.
No, you don’t understand yet. You haven’t experienced it. Anyway, feeling down or sad only lasts a day or two. When it happens often, you naturally become numb. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, but what can you do? It’s how we endure. So don’t look at us too strangely, young noble.
Back then, he truly didn’t understand, but after sending Gwen off, he thought he might get it now.
If you happen to have such an experience? Well, you will soon. When you do, just ignore it and keep fighting. That’s what I do too. If it’s really hard to bear, get angry instead of sad. Here, anger is more useful than sorrow.
That was right too.
Calyle felt anger more than sorrow.
And that anger had awakened the power of the ancient supernatural beings latent in the blood of the Sigmund family.
‘There’s a reason they say listening to your elders brings unexpected benefits.’
Through this incident, Calyle learned that the words of experienced veterans are worth trusting.
Why?
Because their words were the product of experiences they had seen, heard, and felt with their own bodies.
‘If I keep struggling here, I’ll probably grow numb too. And in doing so, I’ll end up crying and laughing erratically.’
Calyle gave a bitter smile.
Wasn’t he himself, right after Gwen’s death, heading to the mess hall to get food
