I thought it was merely an illusion born of false hope, but it moved again, proving this was no dream. The movement resembled a new sprout struggling to break through dense soil. Could it be…? Though I knew interrupting the ceremony was rude, that glimpse of possibility compelled me forward.

Hastily stuffing my pen and paper into my bag, I reached through the gaps between the tightly wound vines. With effort, I lifted the fur-covered tail and felt hot breath brush against my fingertips.

“What are you doing…”

“It’s in here.”

“What?”

“The baby Sainur is still alive!”

At my urgent cry, he immediately halted the magic and drew closer. As he bent down, we could faintly make out the form of the baby concealed under the tail. Thanks to Sezan’s quick action in lifting the corpse, we managed to extract the child safely.

“To think its hiding place was… a nest full of corpses.”

The child, small enough to fit in two hands, was so malnourished that its bones protruded through its skin. I had mistaken this skeletal Sainur for a dangerous creature while under the influence of hallucinogens, believing it meant to harm me. My breath caught in my throat as I stared blankly at the fragile life in my hands. Noticing my stunned state, Asrein gripped my shoulder firmly and spoke with authority.

“I’ll follow after completing the ceremony. Take the Sainur and go down to the inn first.”

“Yes…!”

“Jin and Sir Sezan will accompany Tae-oh.”

His permission snapped me back to reality, and I turned to leave. Despite being a magical creature, its body felt light like a doll, swaying lifelessly with each step. Fearing it might be cold, I held the nearly skinless child tightly against my chest while running down the treacherous forest path. Though harsh breaths rose to my chin, I never stopped.

This child, at least, must be saved.

***

It was hell. Unable to bring a magical creature into the inn where many would see, we concealed it in Jin’s bag. We then went to my room, the furthest from the busy corridors. I immediately fashioned a bed from a rolled blanket on the hard desk and laid down the emaciated body. The rapid rise and fall of its chest was the only hopeful sign from one who had lost all other vitality.

I brought fresh fruit and lukewarm water from the dining room for the Sainur, who must have been starving for ages. Hoping it would eat, I pressed the fruit to its mouth, but it showed no response. Even when I wet my finger with water and let drops fall into its mouth, it expelled everything. Food alone wouldn’t suffice. Perhaps herbs might help.

I immediately asked Sezan to monitor its condition while Jin and I went downstairs. After barely convincing the innkeeper to let us use the kitchen, we brewed herbs using cooking utensils. Following Jin’s instructions, I ground leaves for disinfecting wounds and steeped strength-restoring herbs in warm water. Then we carried bowls and bottles of various medicines back upstairs.

I wanted to try every possible remedy. While Sezan tended to the wounds on the Sainur’s body, I carefully administered medicine into its mouth. After rejecting it several times, it began slowly accepting the diluted medicine. Even the slight twitch of its dried nose sniffing was precious. But the joy proved short-lived.

“Tae-oh! The Sainur…”

In the brief moment I had turned away to grind herbs, the Sainur’s condition deteriorated suddenly. Though it had appeared peacefully asleep moments before, its breathing became irregular. It started coughing, causing its fragile body to heave violently. A terrible feeling that death approached gradually consumed me. My mind went blank, unable to think clearly.

“Magic… healing magic…”

I placed my hands on the increasingly cold Sainur and focused all my energy into my fingertips. If it could save the creature, I would gladly give all of my meager magical power. But someone like me, who didn’t even know the basics, had no hope of using magic. I jumped up, grabbed Sezan’s arm, and desperately pleaded.

“Sezan. Magic might work. Teach me the prayer. Please?”

But he remained silent. Even if I knew the prayer, Sezan understood that high-level healing magic would be impossible for me. Reality showed no mercy to one who could only hope for miracles. Just when I helplessly sensed death approaching, the door burst open.

“How is the condition?”

The long-awaited Asrein had arrived. His characteristically calm voice pulled me from my despair. Stammering, I reported the Sainur’s condition and explained about the prescribed herbs. And… Ah. I remember little after that. I was too focused on assisting his rapid treatment and watching for any decline in the Sainur’s condition.

A full half day passed. Evening twilight already crept through the window. Fortunately, thanks to quick intervention, the Sainur had notably stabilized. After laying it on clean blankets, Asrein released a small sigh.

“It’s asleep. With enough rest now, it should be fine.”

His words made my legs give out, and I collapsed onto the bed. Clutching my forehead, now damp with cold sweat, I tried to steady my spinning mind. Though I wanted to thank Sezan, Jin, and Asrein, I lacked even the strength to speak. While I stared at the floor with unfocused eyes, a low voice filled the room.

“Jin, properly thank the innkeeper who lent us the kitchen, and Sir Sezan, get another testimony from the knights who surveyed the Bivrint Forest area.”

“Yes, Professor.”

They nodded slightly and left the room. As tension drained from my body, exhaustion hit all at once, making even sitting difficult. While I slumped my shoulders, Asrein spoke as he organized the scattered herb bottles.

“Thanks to your good handling, there was almost nothing left for me to do.”

“How…”

“Hmm?”

He turned at my weak voice.

“How can magical creature hunting still exist?”

“We’ll continue to see it quite regularly, I’m afraid.”

“…Will you inform the Count?”

“Of course, since it happened in his territory, we must first hold him accountable.”

I slowly raised my head to look at the peacefully sleeping Sainur. When I first encountered this child, indescribable fear had filled me. Lost in my hallucination, I had mistaken it for something that would pierce flesh with sharp fangs.

But how must that child have felt then? After losing its entire group to humans, perhaps it emerged from the nest hoping to beg for food? Maybe it approached people crying for help, despite risking death?

All sorts of dark thoughts rushed in, leading me to wrong conclusions.

“…It’s my fault.”

“What nonsense is that?”

His neat brow furrowed deeply. Though I knew I spoke nonsense, I couldn’t shake the guilt.

“If I hadn’t… if I hadn’t been suffering from hallucinations then, I could have saved this child sooner.”

“That’s not your fault. Strictly speaking, you saved the Sainur that was about to die.”

“…But… I couldn’t do anything. Until you arrived, Professor, it kept vomiting, couldn’t breathe properly… and…”

“Calm down.”

The helplessness of watching life’s spark repeatedly dim and brighten was unbearable. Stress peaked, making even the smallest external stimulus feel like sharp thorns in my skin. Finally, my emotional dam broke.

“Why am I so incompetent?”

Useless one. The Count and my thesis advisor always called me that. Each time, I had dismissed it, but now I saw their truth. I can’t use magic like Asrein, can’t protect anyone with excellent swordsmanship like Sezan, don’t have thorough knowledge of herbs like Jin. The desire to save the Sainur – ridiculously, that was all I possessed.

Unsightly tears welled in my reddened eyes. But I refused to cry. It felt like crying here would mean avoiding my responsibility. When I clenched my fist tightly, it grew hot in my palm. The wound must have reopened. Still fighting tears, I bit my lip and struggled to maintain composure. Then a long shadow fell before me.

“Tae-oh.”

I raised my head at the calm voice. He lowered himself, kneeling on one knee before me. Before surprise could register, his cold hand covered my fist where blood vessels had risen prominently. When I flinched and relaxed my hand, he slowly unwrapped the bloodstained bandage. Then, while gently stopping the bleeding with his handkerchief, he spoke softly.

“Thank you.”

“……”

“Though it was reckless, that child’s life was saved because you bravely threw yourself in.”

His words crumbled my barely maintained composure. The horror that a child who had lost its group to humans had nearly been killed by humans again, coupled with the relief of overcoming the crisis, overwhelmed me at once.

“It’s all thanks to you.”

Tears fell one after another onto my dirty, unwashed hands. Once I started, I couldn’t stop crying at all. Throughout the time he disinfected my reopened wound, I wept openly like a sorrowful child. But he added no words. Didn’t try to stop my tears. He just silently wrapped the bandage.