Zakqiong slowly slid off the horse, his body covered in bruises and pain. Moreover, the rain continued for about an hour and finally stopped. She clung to the saddle to keep from falling to the ground.
"Can you still leave?" Hadwin asked, concern in his voice.
"I'm just sore," she whispered. "Please don't say you told me. I know. But we were in a hurry. We've wasted almost two weeks."
He sighed softly and slid out of the saddle as well. He walked over and knelt down in front of her. "Joan. If you take a few, we won't be able to kill-"
"I'm fine!" she lied, shaking her head. "I just need a minute."
He sighed softly and patted her head. "Wonderful. Wait here, I'm going to hand over our horses to the caretaker. They deserve a little pampering after this trip, too," he said.
"I will wait for you, old friend." She said weakly as she watched him lead the horse away. She kept repeating to herself that she had to stand a little longer. It didn't take long for her to get down and take off these wet, heavy clothes. She glanced down at her cloak and sighed. While it provided a little protection, the rain was so heavy that it got soaked. She reached out to untie the rope, but stopped. If it dropped, she would have to bend down to pick it up and never get back up. No way?
So she stood up, as stiff as a board, staring at the ground. "Are you okay?" She saw a pair of boots walking towards her.
"I'm fine," she said, slowly raising her head. A girl, probably only four or five years older than her. She was wearing the brown internship gown worn by all Academy students. She looked familiar, but she couldn't place it.
"Dear God, what's wrong with you?" the girl asked, eyes wide with fear. She did not walk over, but walked to Joan, reached out and grabbed her arm.
Joan tried to push her away, but she was too tired. She struggled to identify who the girl was. Suddenly, a soothing numbness swept through her body, relieving the pain and, unfortunately, leaving her legs ultimately paralyzed. But she didn't fall because another girl caught her. "Joan, what's wrong with you?"
"What did you do to me?" she asked, barely concealing the panic in her voice. She tried to reach for the sword, she didn't even have the strength to scream or push the girl away. But after a while, she realized what she had done. The same spell the troll used to crush her body. Now she remembered where she had seen this girl. She was one of the trainee healers in the infirmary.
"Healing spell," the girl said. "What's wrong with you? You're covered in bruises, your muscles are strained, and you're in the first stages of collapse."
"My muscles are-" Joan said, but cut herself off after processing the rest. "Flu? I don't think your spell is working. I feel fine."
"Then, stand up," the girl said.
"I can't, because of your spell—"
"You wouldn't have this effect if you could barely stand on your own. Did the Crystal Phoenix do that? We're going to see the Headmaster. Any mercenary company would do this for—"
"It's not them!" Her legs finally had enough strength to stand up. Unfortunately, they only held her for a few seconds before giving up again. "It's not them. I'm fine. See? Okay," she gritted out, then pushed herself up again, this time barely managing to stand on shaky legs. "Just go, I'm fine, I don't need your help."
"I can't leave, I'm waiting for someone."
"you should not--"
"Joan? What happened here?" Hadwin's voice suddenly cut through the air like a knife, making her shudder.
"It's nothing, they're just some old classmates." She said quickly. "They just left."
"Oh, so she was like this at the academy?" Hadwin asked, his voice full of amusement. The smile on his lips quickly disappeared when the girl turned her eyes to him.
"Yes, she is. Are you her commander?" Bot asked, her voice stern and angry.
"Something like that," Hadwin said sheepishly. "but I - "
"You should know, then, that Joan is in no condition to discharge any of her duties," said Bert again, interrupting him.
"Well, yes, but—"
"She was exhausted, bruised, bruised and had a bad case of the flu," she said.
"I don't--"
"Actually, these bruises alone don't—"
"Ahem!" Hadwin finally yelled, his voice loud and shy, replaced by an edge of anger. "Miss, may I interrupt?"
"Thank you," Hadwin said, his voice as cold as ice. "First of all, those bruises were caused by her own stupidity. Secondly, it was because the important matters on the throne were delayed, so she was tired, otherwise I would not have allowed her to come in this state. Thirdly, although I did I appreciate the information about the flu, but I also hope you won't take that tone with me, young lady, unless you want your back to hurt like Joan did." Joan couldn't help but smile at this. Judging from Bout's face, she believed what Hadwin said. There seems to be fire in his eyes, which always makes him look intimidating. "Fourth, please allow me to introduce myself. I am Hadwin. One of the Chosen of the Gods, servant of Queen Emmeline." When Joan realized who she was scolding, she saw the other girl's expression darken. It faded so quickly that she could barely stop herself from giggling. "Go on. I have important things to take care of, but I appreciate you focusing on yours and not ours."
"Yes, sir," Bert said quickly, lowered his head, and ran away quickly.
Joan snickered until she looked up at Hadwin, who was now glaring at her. "What? I didn't do anything."
"You just had me scolded by a kid. Is that all?" he asked, his voice filled with annoyance.
"Just a therapist," she said with a sigh. "They can be a little overbearing."
The anger on his face slowly disappeared, replaced by a playful smile. "Ahhh. Of course she is a therapist. Then she will definitely do a good job."
"I don't know what to do," said Joan, a little bitterly. "The Queen is a better healer and she is more gentle."
Hadwin reached out and grasped her shoulders. "You also listened to her and followed the care instructions she gave you. Sometimes. There's an old adage for adventurers like me. Never piss off your healer."
"Why?"
"Because they usually know the best way to stop you from killing yourself, and if you push yourself too hard, they know what herbs to put in your drink to make you regret it."
She stared at him with her mouth open. "Wait, what? Did the Queen try that? You never told me about that!"
Hadwin laughed. "We all have secrets, Joan. Besides, it's not a very interesting story. Hardly worth telling. How do you feel?"
"I have no choice but to go on my own. Is that clear?"
She sighed softly. "Okay. I'm just tired."
"Then - "
"But first we need to focus on finding all of the chosen ones. The sooner we find Thel, the sooner we can choose two people to defend the world instead of just one." Joan said, trying desperately to sound like Very confident.
"Come on, let's find this boy and see if the shield reacts to him. Where is his room?"
Zach Jean rolled his eyes and tried to think back to his days at the Academy. It feels like it happened many lifetimes ago. She guessed there had been more than a few times where other girls had tried to invite her on an "adventure," but she'd always ignored them. She was too busy then. Now that I think about it, there have been several times where a few boys have been caught sneaking into the dormitory. Her cheeks grew redder as she realized why the girls were laughing when she yelled at them. "It's a stupid game, isn't it?"
"It's possible," he said with a smile. "Are you sure that your current life is your choice? It seems that it is not suitable for you."
"This is perfect for me! I love it! It's a great life!"
"Then why are you trying to end this?"
"I'm not. I just-" She staggered and almost fell until he put his arm around her belly and helped her up. "I'm just tired."
He sighed softly and shook his head. "Joan, you're still a kid. You don't have to push yourself too hard."
"I watched the world burn over and over again," she said, shaking slightly. "I have to push and fight. When it's all over, I can rest. When I win. When the world doesn't need me."
Hadwin didn't take his arm away from her, just looked down at her. "Have you ever been cured before?"
"More times than I can count," Joan said quickly.
"I understand. Then you should know how important rest is. I should never have asked you to come."
Joan blushed. "Please let me go. I'm fine." Even though she said it, she didn't want to admit that he was right. Even though his arms were supporting most of her weight, each step felt harder and harder. Is what Bot said true? Is she really sick? Is this why her strength has never recovered?
"Joan, I told you not to lie to me," Hadwin said again.
"Good. I'm not okay. But the world isn't going to wait until I'm okay, is it? If we want to have a chance of saving it, then we—"
"That's enough," Hadwin said, his voice turning cold.
"but - "
"That's enough," he repeated, interrupting her. She looked around the courtyard of the academy. There were people looking at the two of them and whispering.
The academy itself is a large and imposing building, made of strange wood that looks like it was planted rather than built. Except in a few places, the walls and floors appear to be solid wood rather than planks of wood. She suspected that the base of the building was constructed entirely by magic and then modified to suit it. It was four stories tall, majestic and one of the few places she had ever seen in her life that had real glass windows.
The school consists of three main wings, namely the east wing, the west wing and the south wing. Each wing is four stories high but only half as thick. Hidden between the two wings of the building itself is the inner courtyard. That's where they train for outdoor activities as needed.
This college is centuries old. It's funded and maintained by the royal family itself, which is special enough.
The rich also often send their children here. It taught swordsmanship, magic, history, politics, and everything else she could imagine. She learned only what she needed for her future duties as a mercenary, but now she can't help but regret not learning more about the history of the world.
"The boys' dormitory is in the east wing. If we go there, we--hey!" When they entered the building, instead of walking down the hall, he stopped in the middle of the foyer. "What?"
"Where is the principal?" he asked. "It would be faster to have him brought here. Besides, I don't want to carry this all over the school," he said, pointing to the backpack on his back. The shield is hidden inside, protected from prying eyes.
"Oh. Yeah, yeah. Uh, right there," she said, gesturing toward the stairs at the back of the building, near the door to the inner courtyard. "Fourth floor."
He nodded, and then, to her horror, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.
"What are you doing? I'm not a sack!" She whispered, her face flushed with shame. She tried to break free from his control. "I am a--"
"A little kid who can't walk up the stairs," Hadwin said contemptuously.
Joan's face burned with further shame as more students seemed to enter the main entrance, staring at the monitors and whispering to each other. She never thought she would return to the academy, let alone this. She raised her hands to cover her face, wishing she could die of shame. It was at least one of her least painful deaths.
When they finally reached the fourth floor, the door had opened, and a bald old man stood there, his eyes narrowed in fear. She didn't blame him. There was a dull roar from the group of students gathered in the foyer. She was set down and his eyes focused on her. Annoyance quickly turned to confusion. "Joan?" he asked, then turned to Hadwin. "Well, I'm sorry, but-" Then his words caught in his throat, his eyes darting to the sword beside him and the color drained from his face. "Wait, that sword. You're not—"
"Indeed, I am Hard, the Chosen of the Gods," said Hadwin. "Can we come into your office and talk?"
The principal sighed and walked to the railing, "I understand. Considering your arrival, I can hardly say I'm surprised. Come in," the man said, before turning and walking into his office.
The two followed him inside. She couldn't help but look around the room. She couldn't remember the last time she was here. The floor of the room was covered with a thick red carpet, and her feet almost sank into it. There were only two pieces of furniture in the room, one of which was a bookcase placed against the wall, filled with dozens of thick books in various languages, one of which she thought was demonic. There was a large table and several chairs opposite the door. The principal quickly moved to the back and sat down. There was a small square door in the wall behind the desk, but she couldn't imagine its purpose. The only thing that seemed strange to her was the wall opposite the bookshelf, where a large portrait hung. The metal strip at the bottom of it reads "First Principal - Damian Guangyu".
At least now she knew those rumors about him being one of the founders were true. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if he had some elven blood in him, or maybe demonic blood. He was human, but as far as she knew, he hadn't aged a day since the portrait was painted. Maybe he used some kind of spell?
"I'm sure you have some questions," Hadwin said. "You've met Joan."
"Oh, I have a few more. It's not hard to imagine why you're here, though," Damian said, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together, staring outside. "I am Principal Guangyu, but you can call me Damian, sir."
"As you wish. And what do you think the reason is?" asked the Chosen One, who then placed her in a chair across the table, a little more roughly than she expected. She almost melted into it, but to her surprise, she found that her body refused to move.
"A chosen one coming here, bringing with him one of the best students we've ever had? It's not hard to imagine what that means. Joan has become one of the chosen ones, I guess?"
Hadwin smiled and shook his head. "No, you're close though. She believes one of your students is one of them."
This made the man frown. "If one of my students is chosen, I would be happy to find them for you. May I have his name?"
"Ser Dostev," Hadwin said quickly before the headmaster continued.
The man had a shocked expression on his face.
"Are you sure? He's not the most..." Damian trailed off and coughed into his hand. "We have many other excellent-"
"I'm sure you will. Joan, are you sure it's him? "There's still a chance to back out. Hadwin said, though the annoyance on his face made her wonder if there was a chance.
"It's him. Trust me!" she asked.
Damian looked between the two before his eyes landed on Joan. "Is she okay? She's very pale."
"I'm fine," Joan said again. Despite her own reluctance, she tried her best to open her eyes. But for that she had to stay awake. A big part of her just wanted to drift off in her chair, but she had to stay strong. The world depends on her.
"Good," Damian said. "I'll pick up the boy. Please wait a moment," he said, standing up and walking toward the door. When they were alone, Hadwin turned to her.
"Are you sure?" he asked again.
"If I'm wrong, that means I'm crazy," she said, closing her eyes for a moment and then fluttering them open again.
"Does it make you happy to know you're crazy?" he asked, kneeling down and placing a hand on her forehead. "Joan, you have a fever."
"I'm fine. That's more important," she said, shaking her head. "I'll take a rest after you finish reading."
"I shouldn't have asked you to come," Hadwin said softly. "You're crazy."
"I hope so. If so, that means I'm not destroying the world over and over again," she whispered, unable to hold back the tears in her eyes and the desperation in her voice. She quickly closed her eyes and tried to let the tears fall. What's up with her?
"You are tired and sick. When this is over, you will stay here until you get better, and then I will take you back to the Queen."
"Good. I'll rest for a few days, but then we have to go. I think I know where Taglen will be at this point. Once we capture him, we-"
"No."
"No?" she asked softly, struggling to open her tired eyes and stare at him. "But the chosen one must—"
"From now on, I'm going alone."
Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open. "What?"
"Do I really need to repeat that?"
"But you need me, I-"
"You need rest. That's what you need most."
My mind was in chaos and I couldn't think of anything to say. He couldn't do this without her, he needed her. They need her. His hand pressed on her forehead again.
"You need a therapist," he said firmly. "damn it."
"I'm fine," she whispered, already fighting desperately to keep her eyes from closing again.
The sound of the door opening again made her slowly turn her head.
There he is, Serge. That young man is still just a boy. His short brown hair is slightly messy. His nose is slightly curved. His plain brown eyes. The youngest of them, a year younger than her.
Hundreds of memories flooded her mind, that face staring down at her, her blood and the blood of her friends smeared all over the bastard, and all she could do was suppress it before her energy finally ran out Live the hatred. The last thing she heard before darkness enveloped her was Hadwin calling her name.
