It had been a week since I first woke up.
My body's condition was slightly better now than it had been the first time. The pain was still the same, but at least I could keep my eyes open for longer periods.
During that time, Vanire helped me a lot.
From her, I learned that I wasn't treated mainly by healers. Most of the duke healers had been deployed to the battlefield because of the war with the bandits.
Instead, my recovery depended mostly on alchemist potions.
Apparently, Ron and Rany had protested against this decision. But the Duke had the final word.
"If his condition becomes life-threatening again," the Duke had said, "then I will summon my personal healer."
So far, I hadn't met Ron or Rany.
They were constantly in discussions with the Duke about the ongoing situation. Besides, I was usually awake for only two hours at most before the potion's sleeping effect forced me back into rest.
I still couldn't stand up.
But now I had a chair with wheels.
Vanire told me that elderly nobles sometimes used these to move around the castle.
One day, I asked her to take me to see my mount.
She called two butlers for help. They carefully lifted me and placed me in the wheeled chair, and Vanire pushed me out of the room.
It was the first time I had left the room since waking up.
The castle corridors were beautifully decorated.
Paintings hung on the walls, expensive pottery stood in corners, and even weapons were displayed like pieces of art.
Eventually we passed through a garden.
As far as my eyes could see, roses and white flowers filled the space. The air carried a natural fragrance that was almost calming.
For a moment, my heart felt lighter.
The pain was still there, but my mind found some comfort.
After crossing the garden, we finally reached the ranch.
My mount had been placed in the servants' ranch. Only knights and noble bloodlines were allowed to keep their mounts in the noble stables.
But that didn't matter.
What mattered was that he was alive.
When I saw Rusty, standing there with bandages wrapped around one of his legs and across his back, I felt both relief and sadness.
Relief that he survived.
Sadness that he had been hurt.
Our eyes met.
Rusty let out a loud howl, startling the nearby servants working in the ranch.
He tried to control himself, but the moment he saw me clearly, he broke free from the ropes and rushed toward us.
Vanire screamed in horror.
To her, a six-legged horned monster charging forward must have looked terrifying.
But I wasn't afraid.
As she tried to pull the chair away, I gently held her hand to stop her.
Rusty stopped just before reaching me.
Then he lowered his head and pressed it against my chest.
I placed my right hand on the back of his head.
Tears filled my eyes.
"Sorry," I whispered softly. "Sorry for getting you hurt."
I lifted my head slightly and kissed the top of his head.
"I'm okay."
Slowly, I patted him again.
Vanire was still terrified, watching from the side.
I kept one hand on Rusty, showing her he wasn't aggressive.
But she still refused to get close.
I simply smiled and spent a little more time with Rusty.
Eventually, my eyes began to grow heavy again.
The potion's effect was returning.
I asked Vanire to take me back to the room.
As we passed through the garden again, a group of women appeared in front of us.
They looked slightly older than me—maybe four or five years at most.
All of them wore uniforms that resembled military attire.
Some had swords hanging at their waists.
Others did not.
My vision was already becoming blurry, so I couldn't see them clearly.
Vanire immediately lowered her head and greeted them.
"Young Miss."
There were six of them in total.
But my eyes were already closing.
As I began to drift into sleep, my body leaned forward and I almost fell out of the chair.
Suddenly, a hand caught me and pushed me back upright.
That was the last thing I remembered.
When I woke up again, I was surprised to see my visitor.
A very unexpected one.
It was Khaun.
He was still drinking, just like always.
I smiled weakly.
He looked at me and asked, "How are you?"
I sighed.
"It seems dying would be less painful than this."
He burst into laughter.
"That's why young blood is the best," he said with a grin.
I rolled my eyes.
"Any casualties on our side?"
His expression became more serious.
"The mercenaries are mostly fine. Medium injuries at worst."
Then he looked at me again.
"You're the one with the worst injuries."
I chuckled.
"Who told you to take care of the most dangerous opponent?"
He smirked.
"What? Do you think I can see the future and choose the easiest one?"
We both laughed.