When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the ceiling.
A large glass chandelier hung above, its light reflecting faintly across the room. My vision was still blurry, and all I could make out was that I was lying inside a room.
For a brief moment, a strange thought crossed my mind.
So… I finally died.
After so many near-death experiences, it almost felt believable.
I closed my eyes tightly and then forced them open again, trying to clear my vision.
Slowly, the room came into focus.
It was small, but strangely familiar. It looked similar to the room I had stayed in during my time at the castle.
I tried to move my body.
Nothing moved.
Not a single part of my body responded.
Even my right arm was tied to a wooden support and placed beside me.
Pain spread through my entire body.
It felt as if thousands of needles were piercing my skin while swords stabbed into my muscles at the same time.
My stomach churned violently.
I needed to vomit.
A bowl was placed beside the bed. With great effort, I grabbed it with my left hand and pulled it closer.
Then I vomited into it.
Blood came out.
But it wasn't red.
It was black.
For a moment, I stared at it in confusion.
Am I dead… or alive?
If I was dead, why was I feeling pain?
If I was alive, why did my body feel like it was being torn apart?
While those thoughts filled my mind, the door suddenly opened.
A woman walked in.
She looked to be in her late forties and wore a maid's uniform.
Our eyes met.
Before I could speak, she introduced herself.
"My name is Vanire," she said calmly. "I am a maid in Raonelet Castle."
"You have been in this condition for the past two days. Your body has been mostly asleep during that time."
Two days.
My mind struggled to process the information.
I forced out my first question.
"So… I'm not dead?"
She shook her head.
"No. You are very much alive. You are currently inside Raonelet Castle."
I tried to say something else, but my vision began spinning again.
Vanire stepped forward and gently took the bowl from my hands.
"The Duke had healers treat you," she explained. "The side effects are like this. You will fall asleep often. If you wake up again later, we can continue our conversation."
When I opened my eyes again, it was night.
The room was dark.
Compared to before, my vision was slightly clearer.
I noticed Vanire sleeping on a sofa nearby.
I didn't want to disturb her.
Instead, I stared at the ceiling as my thoughts wandered.
How could bandits gather such a large force?
The way they fought bothered me.
Those men who attacked with their weapons…
Their movements matched a certain style.
I couldn't identify it clearly, but their fighting wasn't random. It looked disciplined—like trained soldiers.
Even that bandit leader…
Was he really just a bandit?
Someone that strong could easily join any kingdom's army.
Any commander would welcome a warrior like him.
So why become a bandit?
Why choose that path?
Those questions kept turning in my mind.
But my body was still weak.
My vision blurred again.
Before long, I fell asleep.
The next morning, I woke up again.
Pain exploded across my entire body.
I still couldn't move even a single muscle. It felt like my body was being stabbed repeatedly.
But at least I could open my eyes.
Vanire greeted me with a warm smile.
In her hands was a bowl and a cloth soaked in water.
"What is that for?" I asked weakly.
She smiled gently.
"For cleaning."
I panicked slightly.
"No… I'm awake now. I can do it myself."
She shook her head.
"For the past two days, I've been doing it," she said calmly. "Just because your eyes are open today doesn't mean your body can move."
She glanced at my condition and added,
"Honestly, I doubt you can even lift a single finger. Don't try to overextend yourself."
Then she added something that made my face heat up.
"Don't worry. I kept your undergarments on while cleaning you. There's nothing to be embarrassed about."
Even so, as she helped me sit up and began cleaning the dried blood from my body, my ears turned red.
I lowered my head in embarrassment.
While wiping the scars across my body, she suddenly paused.
"I know you are a mercenary," she said slowly. "But these scars…"
Her fingers traced one of the old marks across my shoulder.
"It looks like a battlefield carved into your body rather than a normal person's skin."
I smiled faintly.
"Yeah," I replied.
"I've had more than one near-death experience."
"These scars… are the proof."
Vanire looked at me again.
Her expression carried both amazement and concern.