Chapter 54: The Irrational Lady

The echoes of Gisela’s scream echoed inside her head. The crying face of hers as she gets cleave in the stomach and way her entrails drop in the ground with a sloppy sound is something she could not forget. She heard songs of people dying gracefully and tales of grace in the battlefield. Yet when she saw the horrible way of dying that Gisela experienced made her dispassionate to the point of being unable to muster any of her confidence or emotions. The burning passion she had disappeared, replaced only by apathy.

Right now she was being carried by someone through a mountain. The mountain was far from the ground. The fields were easily seeable and she can see various lands and hills. The wind was cold and she felt each gust caress her face. Half of her face was burned. If she had care then she would have despaired in losing her beauty. She liked her face and overall it was something she was proud of.

Yet, here she is, drooling like a retard, with her face simply staring to the emptiness. She lost her warband, she lost her only friend and now she was scarred badly. Her fate was now in the hands of the person she cursed the most. The person who she spat on the face, insulted and treated like a laughing stock. The person carries her on his back, climbing every mountain and walking roads while shielding her from any threat.

Any woman who receives this treatment would surely be ashamed. As a noble from a clan of royal guards, how can she allow herself to be carried, fed, and treated as if she was crippled when she is not? Her magic veins have already healed by the end of the spring and yet here she is, letting the man that she hated the most carry her through the road as if he was her stallion.

The man probably knew that her veins were fine. He probably knew that by just touching her magic veins and letting his mana flow into her. His mana was pure and unsullied as if he possesses two crests. She’d wondered if he was secretly a knight but it was no way. The man was a well-known fool and there was just no way that he is some secret knight.

If he was then will her opinion about him change? No, she doesn’t think so, she thought of the man as a fool, a fool that doesn’t know his place. She would like to teach the fool the lesson and make him understand but if she does the man will stop carrying her. Revealing that she was able enough to walk and hike without his help. The face he will make, she wonders what it will be. But even so, enthusiasm was long gone in her heart and even though she wanted to do so. Her heart and soul were covered in apathy. There is no reason for her to do it, she thought.

The climb down was rather rough. She could see that they are struggling to get down with all of the bonfires down below. They are surely bandits and the two probably didn’t want to face the enemies in this kind of place. If it was her she could kill the bandits without thinking. But she could not even try to move her legs out of apathy.

Always close to the back and the warmth of the one carrying her. She could not help but feel annoyed at his thumping heart and her heart thumping back. Every second she spends being carried made her irrationally angry. Somewhere along the line her hatred for the man got worse than ever and even should she should be thankful she hated him more.

It was a twisted irrational swirl that made her pride, principles and honor hurt and damaged than ever. If he has left her in that place and let her recover instead of helping her, then the twisted thoughts in her wouldn’t be this bad. She’d spent most of her life serving herself and sweating blood and tears to become an ascended knight. She only got help from her only true friend and now that friend was dead.

She hated the man for taking her spot without her permission. She shouldn’t suppose to hate him but even so, the unvented anger inside her started to gather in one place. She’s was noble, pompous and arrogant. Yet this time she was getting worse. The apathy she had turned anger and then to rage. Her heart blackened and her soul rippled with dread as she begins to plan ways to ‘punish’ the man.

The mountain was high, winds blow so hard that the winds make her shiver. She then thought of the height and how bad would it be if the man falls from such height. She bet that even though she has seen the way the man fight. She can accidentally kill the man and then have the other fool guide her. The man was useful and unlike the man who carries her. He’d show disdain at her who was being carried. The man was not foolish and she could use him to get out of these dastardly lands and find a place where she can contact her family and have her sent to the front lines where she can avenge Gisela by killing Orcs in honor.

The man wasn’t only thing she desires to punish. She wanted the blood of those who took something precious to her. Her loss of Gisela made the Valera Asmara’s head turned twisted and maddened. It was a single-minded desire to kill the Orcs that developed in her head as if she thinks that slaying them will stop the screams of her only friend that is still lurking inside her head even as she thinks of malicious thoughts to put the man who she should be grateful, to hell.

Dark thoughts built up inside her head as Arden carried her to the top of the mountain while Jess follows.