Chapter 72 : Assassin Captain Joy

I opened my eyes.

A strange ceiling greeted me.

“….”

For a while I simply stared blankly at the whitewashed ceiling.

Images of the snow-covered mountain drifted across my mind.

Half-asleep, half-awake—the boundary between dream and reality was hazy.

I thought to myself as I stared up at that pale ceiling:

Hell isn’t supposed to look white.

White… that’s closer to Heaven.

‘So then… am I in Heaven?’

Suddenly, I recalled the mercenary band’s nonsense about Heaven being full of beautiful naked women.

I tried to sit up.

“Ghhk!”

Agonizing pain crushed me back into the bed.

“Ughhh…”

It was pain beyond words.

Everything hurt, like some bastard had beaten me with a club for an entire day.

Worse than falling off that cliff. Why did it hurt so much? My whole body was on fire.

“Huh?”

Just then, a little voice exclaimed.

A moment later, two big round eyes and a small button nose and mouth filled my vision.

“Uncle! You’re awake!”

A child threw herself against me in a hug.

The impact sent agony coursing through me.

It was like being run over by a carriage.

“Hhhkkk…”

I groaned, soul nearly leaving my body, and the little one quickly let go, startled.

“Oh, sorry Uncle! The doctor said I had to be careful. Does it hurt a lot?”

“Ghhk…”

I held back tears and looked at her face.

“…Huh?”

She looked strangely familiar.

I wasn’t exactly fond of children, so why did she feel so close, so dear?

Not only that—I felt like patting her head, as if she were praiseworthy somehow.

But what had she done to deserve praise?

Then, a name surfaced in my mind.

A name that meant life.

I looked into those round eyes and murmured,

“…Joy?”

Joy’s face lit up in a radiant smile.

“That’s right! I’m Joy!”

Then she leapt at me again.

“Uncccllle!”

“Ughhh!”

My head swam.

A curse rose to my lips but I barely swallowed it back down.

“L-let… go… you little brat…”

And I passed out.

When I opened my eyes again, there was the same unfamiliar ceiling.

The memory of that stabbing pain flickered in my mind, but it felt dreamlike, indistinct.

As I blinked in a daze, a deep, steady voice spoke.

“Are you awake now?”

That voice was familiar too.

I turned my head slightly—and saw a face I knew well.

“…Hans?”

Hans smiled warmly.

“Well now. Seems like I only ever see you when you’re hurt.”

Beside him stood a worried-looking woman.

“How are you feeling? We heard Joy tried to assassinate you while we were out yesterday.”

Hans gave Julia a sharp look.

“Why would you say that to someone who just woke up? Even as a joke?”

“I only said it to lighten the mood.”

“It wasn’t funny. So don’t.”

…Why did this feel like déjà vu?

“…Sorry, Uncle.”

I turned my head more and saw Joy standing off to the side, looking guilty.

I asked, “Why are you standing so far away?”

“Because I tried to assassinate you…”

Hans scolded Julia again.

“See? Now she’s repeating you. I told you not to say nonsense like that. It isn’t funny.”

“Everyone else thinks it’s funny…”

“You’re the only one laughing. The only one.”

I watched the couple bicker for a moment, then turned back to Joy.

“It’s fine. Come here.”

“…Really?”

She glanced nervously at her parents.

A bump on her head told me she’d already been scolded.

I reassured her.

“It’s fine. In fact, I like it. What doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger.”

“…Huh?”

Hans and Julia both looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Joy tried to assassinate me, but I survived. Therefore—I’m stronger now.”

“….”

“It’s thanks to you. Assassin Captain Joy.”

Joy tilted her head, puzzled, but crept closer.

“…Really?”

“Really.”

The Assassin Captain reached out and timidly held my hand.

Her hand was tiny, but warm.

Then I noticed my right wrist tickling.

I looked down—bracelets of wildflowers were wound around it.

I asked, “Did you make these?”

Joy nodded.

“Mm-hm. While you were sleeping, I made one each day.”

“I see.”

I nodded absently… then froze.

“…Wait. One each day?”

I quickly counted the flower bracelets.

There were eight.

Which meant—

I looked at Hans. He nodded.

“You’ve been here for eight days since you were brought in, battered and broken.”

Julia added, “We worried so much you’d never wake up.”

“This woman, honestly…” Hans muttered.

They started bickering again, but I barely heard them.

Eight days…

My mind reeled.

At the same time, the reality hit me—I’d survived.

But how? I was certain the Knight of Frost had killed me.

Hans spoke again.

“The Count himself stayed by your side until you woke. He only left because duty called.”

“…The Count?”

A Count. So my savior was a noble?

Not long ago, I had killed one of their kind.

And now a noble had saved me.

A laugh escaped me.

Life was strange. Kill a noble one day, be saved by one the next.

As I pondered the absurdity of fate, Hans said, “We sent word the moment you woke. He’ll be here any moment.”

No sooner had he spoken than hurried footsteps approached. The door burst open.

A middle-aged man, impeccably dressed, hair streaked with gray, strode in.

The moment he saw me awake, he broke into a bright smile.

“Ah! At last!”

Hans and Julia naturally stepped aside, and the man approached, sitting in the chair Hans had prepared.

“At last you’ve woken, Sir Ashuban.”

“…Sir?”

“To be honest, when a whole week passed with no sign of you waking, I began to fear the worst.”

I stared blankly at him.

His features were sharp and well-defined.

Strength radiated from his firm jaw, while kindness glimmered in his gentle eyes.

I wasn’t exactly a believer in the “noble virtue” philosophy, but just from his bearing, this man radiated the air of a true aristocrat.

Completely different from that toad-like Baron Barankia.

He was older than me, and more importantly, he was my savior. At the very least, I owed him courtesy and gratitude.

“I’d rise and give you a proper greeting, but… as you can see, I’m in no condition. I beg your understanding.”

The Count’s eyes widened at that.

I blinked in confusion.

“…Did I say something wrong?”

“Ah, no, nothing of the sort.”

The Count waved his hand quickly, looking uncharacteristically flustered.

Normally I’d let it slide, but I wasn’t the type to ignore curiosity.

“What do you mean, nothing? What surprised you?”

“Ah, it’s… nothing much.”

He scratched his cheek with a sheepish look.

“It’s just… you were gentler than I expected, and it caught me off guard.”

Gentler than expected? So what, did he think I’d spring out of bed cursing and swinging a sword, swearing revenge like some lunatic?

…What the hell did he take me for?

The Count carefully asked, “How is your condition? The physician said aside from your left arm, there weren’t any major injuries.”

“My left arm…”

Only then did I remember the Knight of Frost’s blade skewering me.

I lifted my head slightly to look. My arm was splinted and tightly bound in white cloth.

“Ugh.”

Even the slightest movement sent pain lancing through it.

The Count said, “Your left arm will ache for some time. The wound was deep, so it will take a while to heal. But with rest, the physician believes it will recover cleanly. You needn’t worry.”

“How long are we talking?”

“If you’re lucky, a month. At worst, two or three.”

“I see.”

The Count studied my expression, then asked, “And the rest of your body?”

I didn’t need to move to know the answer.

My whole body felt cold and feverish at once, like muscle pain spreading everywhere—except ten times worse.

Which meant the fainting spell Joy caused wasn’t an act of weakness at all.

“My whole body aches like hell. I’m freezing too. Could I get another blanket?”

The Count nodded.

“So be it. It may be you carry hidden internal injuries the eye cannot detect. I’ll have a priest brought in soon—one skilled in healing such things.”

“…Thank you.”

The gratitude slipped out honestly.

Hiring a priest of that caliber wasn’t cheap.

The Count looked faintly embarrassed, shaking his head as though it were nothing.

I watched him carefully.

He had saved my life, and now he was even offering an expensive priest.

Naturally, it couldn’t be for free.

He must want something in return.

The Ophosis Dagger, perhaps?

But… I no longer had it. I’d given it to Shushruta.

He must have already noticed, since I was wearing different clothes now.

So was he trying to coax its whereabouts out of me?

And then there was the question of why Hans and his family were here.

Things felt… oddly tangled.

“Joy.”

The girl, who had been quietly fiddling with my hand, perked up.

“Mm?”

“Go outside with your mom and dad for a bit. I need to speak with the Count.”

“…Okay.”

Hans and Julia caught on quickly and left with her.

Click.

The door shut. Now it was just me and the Count.

I sat in silence for a moment before asking, “I don’t know your name yet.”

“Ah, I’ve not introduced myself. I am Count Hermann Stavanger.”

I gave a slight nod.

“Count Stavanger.”

“Speak.”

“The Ophosis Dagger. I don’t have it.”

The Count stared at me.

“I know.”

“I don’t know where it is either.”

“I see.”

“…?”

That reaction was strange.

It was as if he truly didn’t care about the dagger.

Or he did, but was hiding it for some reason.

I wasn’t the type to dance around things.

“Count. I’m sincerely grateful that you saved me.”

“It was nothing, truly.”

“May I ask why you did?”

The Count hesitated a moment, then smiled.

“I didn’t think you’d ask so bluntly. You are direct indeed.”

“That’s how I am.”

He reached into his coat and pulled out a silver coin.

It was a little larger than a normal silver piece, marked with a unique crest.

“Do you recognize this?”

“No.”

“I found it in your pocket.”

“What is it?”

“….”

He studied me a moment before answering.

“It is a token of the Stavanger family. We only give it to those to whom we owe a great debt. You could say it marks someone to whom our house is deeply indebted.”

“Ah. Then why was it in my pocket?”

“…You don’t remember?”

“No. I don’t bother remembering things that aren’t important.”

“…Not important, you say…”

The Count gave a small laugh, then placed the coin into my hand.

“He’d be disappointed to hear that.”

Well… disappointed or not, that wasn’t my problem.

“So, you saved me because of this token?”

The Count only smiled faintly, then produced another silver coin from his coat.

“…?”

“What’s that one?”

It looked similar to the first, but older and more worn.

“The one I returned to you was yours. This one belonged to Sir Hans.”

“…Hans?”

The Count nodded.

“He came to me with his token, begging me to help you. Said royal knights were hunting you. That is why I intervened.”

“…Ha.”

Trust that man to keep quiet and never boast. I’d almost never known.

And to think—he’d staked an old token just to persuade a Count to move against the Knight of Frost.

Maybe there were other reasons as well, but still—it took no small amount of courage. Facing that monster wasn’t something just anyone could do.

Rare indeed was a noble who understood honor.

And given that he stood here without injury, he clearly hadn’t fought the knight head-on. Nobles had their own ways.

I spoke honestly.

“Thank you.”

The Count shook his head.

“It was nothing.”

“Nothing? Driving off the Knight of Frost is anything but nothing.”

“…Pardon?”

“I mean, how in the world did you manage to make that monster retreat? He didn’t seem the type to listen to reason.”

The Count stared at me blankly.

“What are you talking about?”

“…What do you mean?”

“You defeated him yourself.”

“…Me?”

“…?”

“…?”

We both just blinked at each other, equally baffled.

(End of Chapter)

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