"Kuh, kuuuugh......!"
As my dagger tore through flesh, Commander Charlotte's groan deepened.
Bright red blood welled out.
The Healing Knights kept their eyes fixed on the blade's tip.
None of them seemed to know what to do.
"Healing Knight, come and assist."
"What'll I be doing?"
One of them, a heavyset one, came closer.
"Wipe the blood. One look and you should get a feel for what needs doing, no?"
"A-Alright."
The Healing Knight pulled a worn handkerchief from her coat. She brought it toward the arm, blood dripping steadily.
SMACK! I knocked her arm away.
"Did you soak that in dishwater? What is that color?"
"It's just a handkerchief I wipe my mouth with after meals."
"You mean to use a bacteria-infested piece of garbage during surgery? Did you leave your brains behind?"
"Garbage? It's a keepsake from my mother......"
"Then it must be crawling with ancient bacteria of history and tradition too. If you don't want to go see your mother's face, bring something clean. If Charlotte goes down, every one of us turns into a mummy in this tomb."
At my rebuke, the Healing Knight looked sheepish.
"Would a bandage do?"
"Yes. Wipe carefully. Don't touch the incision site."
With the blood wiped away, the affected area came into full view.
"But the blood keeps flowing, doesn't it? If she loses too much, the Commander's life will be in danger."
"That's why I tied it off. I didn't wrap that bandage for decoration."
"I figured you were saving it for later."
"Good grief. What do you people normally do when a patient is bleeding?"
"Burn it shut, of course. That way if any curse seed is left behind, we can burn it to death too."
"And if the patient dies from that?"
"Then we offer our condolences."
"Unbelievable."
A place with no concept of hygiene, where the first resort for bleeding was fire before pressure.
Getting them to understand my common sense was clearly going to take considerable effort.
"Would you both refrain from talking about bleeding to death and cauterizing while I am lying right here?"
Charlotte, who had been listening to my exchange with the Healing Knight, complained.
"Bear with it a bit. This is my first time with a patient who can hear me mid-surgery too."
"You speak as though you were a doctor before this. When on earth did you master the healing arts?"
Oops.
Right. My whole life I had wasted my days drinking with the local layabouts and prowling the back alleys.
They were members of the Grimwald Knight Order. Knights raised by the count's house could not possibly be ignorant of the rumors about the family degenerate.
I would have to come up with a decent excuse.
"You thought I only went around drinking, didn't you? I've been studying in secret for a moment like this, is what I'm telling you."
"......Is that true? I never imagined you had that kind of resolve, Young Master."
"Don't talk too much. Move around and the bleeding gets worse. If you need anesthesia, do you want some liquor at least?"
"I am rather fond of it, but we are on an operation, so I will decline. I will take you up on it once we get out of here."
"I'll have to get some good liquor ready, then."
I took up the dagger again and focused on the site.
'Three incision sites. Abscess diameter roughly one centimeter. Superficial lesion, no fascial involvement. Skin incision, then I&D, remove the necrotic tissue. It isn't a deep abscess, so I can close it.'
The incision measured five centimeters. I had cut carefully around the abscess tissue.
Flickering torch shadows. The patient was not anesthetized and there was no proper equipment. Terrible conditions.
Still, the difficulty was not extreme. Stay calm and the abscess could be removed.
That was when it happened.
—SSSSH!
"What?"
The abscess squirmed and moved outward, away from the incision. Exactly like a living, moving insect.
"This is a problem."
I had meant to remove the abscess with minimal incision.
The lesion was changing position mid-surgery?
At this rate, proper surgery was impossible.
It was enough to make the Healing Knight's method of amputating the infected area wholesale look correct.
'Damn dark fantasy world.'
This was not simple infected tissue. It had a physical body.
"Young Master? Why did your hand stop?"
The Healing Knight's question.
Commander Charlotte, her face drenched in sweat, looked at me too.
I was pondering how to respond when it happened.
[The Boon has been unlocked.]
[Eyes opened.]
[Diagnose is now available.]
What was this?
Text had risen before my eyes in a window like a game interface.
'Please let this not be me going mad from mental Erosion.'
I had no idea why a status window and Boons had suddenly appeared.
The moment I thought I wanted to see the details, the text in the status window slid into motion.
[Your eyes see through all things.]
[Diagnose] - Magic spell, Tier ■, ■■ school
Checks a patient's condition. Searches disease name and symptoms in detail.
Magic?
Why had magic I had never used in my life suddenly appeared?
Fine. I would use everything I could.
"Diagnose."
The status window changed in response to my word.
[Charlotte / Age 25 / Human Female / ○]
[Diagnosis: Erosive cellulitis]
[Site: Left forearm]
[Details: Primary pathogen is the Seed of the Curse. For roughly 24 hours from onset, chills, fever, and erythema occur; as it deepens, pus and skin necrosis progress. A fast-spreading infectious disease. If Erosion reaches the brain, the subject mutates into a minion of the Outer God.]
This was incredibly convenient.
So the Seed was the pathogen that spread the disease called Erosion.
The circle beside her name was a familiar shape.
The traffic light from the original work that showed the degree of Erosion.
It was still only slightly gray-tinged from red. That meant there was room to save her.
"Healing Knight, do you see this?"
"That's a Seed of the Curse. If it keeps spreading Erosion, it gets dangerous."
"Can't you pin it down so it can't move?"
"Normally we'd use an Erosion Resistance Potion, but the potions aren't working on her anymore, so...... tsk."
FWOOSH. The Healing Knight brought the torch over and lit the incision brightly.
That was when it happened.
—SQUIRM.
"What?"
The Seed stopped moving, then went the opposite way from the torchlight, toward the shadow.
A curse weak to light. Classic.
The solution was simple.
"Mage, build the fire up stronger."
"The fire, sir?"
"Yes. Bright enough that we mistake it for broad daylight. Now!"
"Y-Yes!"
FWOOSH. With the mage's spell, the space brightened.
And then, slowly.
"The seed stopped moving!"
"How did he figure that out......?!"
Now I could remove it.
I carefully slid the dagger into the cut.
"Ugh......!"
Commander Charlotte clenched her teeth. Her muscles went taut as she fought to keep the arm still, and I felt it through my fingertips.
Swish, swish. The dagger's tip traced a triangle.
"Extraction."
On the withdrawn dagger's tip sat a sticky black lump.
I flicked the dagger clean. The black Seed fell to the ground, went limp, and soon stopped moving.
"Impossible! He really pulled out the Outer God's Seed without cutting off the arm."
"How can anyone cut that cleanly?"
The knights murmured. I had no attention to spare for them.
"Wrap it in bandage. Press it tight so it stops the bleeding."
"Yes, sir!"
The Healing Knight covered the first incision with bandage.
I moved straight on to removing the second Seed.
"He's incredibly skilled...... That isn't the hand of someone who has held a blade once or twice."
"The Young Master really was a doctor......?"
Having done it once, the second was easier. I removed the lesion quickly and precisely.
—SSSSS......
The second was out as well.
"Incredible speed......"
"Commander, it is almost over. Hold on a little longer."
And then the last one.
"Young Master, this one won't be easy. It's right next to a thick blood vessel, isn't it?"
The Healing Knight was right.
The lesion sat directly beside the radial artery.
"Touch it wrong and the bleeding won't stop."
"Oh, and how do you know that?"
"I'm an Imperially Certified Third-Class Healing Knight. You're underestimating me too much."
"I wasn't underestimating you. I was underestimating this world."
"Hm, that's not a compliment, is it?"
"It isn't. If you want a compliment, assist properly to the end."
"Yes, sir."
As the Healing Knight said, it was a difficult spot. If the cut went wrong by even a few millimeters, Charlotte might never use her left hand again.
I focused.
As though to see straight through to the bone and muscle beneath the skin.
That was when it happened.
—SSSSSSSS......!
The knights turned at the ominous sound.
"This sound, don't tell me."
"It followed us this far!"
"All of you, guard the perimeter!"
The light flickered.
Down the dungeon corridor, pitch-black darkness came charging toward us.
"It's the Apostle!"
"Damn it, of all times......!"
"Battle formation!"
Urgency settled over the knights' faces.
They raised their swords toward the darkness.
The Outer God's Apostle. A mid-boss of the dungeon, so to speak, a powerful enemy that borrowed the Outer God's authority.
Just before taking shelter in this space, we had lost to that thing and retreated.
"Young Master, the fire is going out! The Apostle is swallowing it in darkness!"
The Healing Knight shouted urgently. Just as she said, as the light dimmed, the Seed regained its vigor and began to squirm.
"Young Master!"
"Quiet."
Unlike the chaos around me.
My concentration was reaching its peak.
The dagger's tip finally parted the skin.
WHOOSH!
Every light went out, and a chilling despair spread in all directions.
"Damn it! That Apostle bastard......!"
"Does it mean to take even our last hope?"
"All of you, raise your swords! Do not fear the Erosion!"
As the knights shouted and charged.
In the pitch-black darkness, my hand finally finished its work.
"Extraction complete."
Plop. The last Seed dropped to the floor.
"There won't be time to suture."
"Wrapping it in bandage will do, right?"
"Your instincts have improved. Not bad."
Tight, so the wound would not open. I wound the bandage with enough pressure to cut off circulation.
"Ngh, it's too fast!"
"Do not break formation! Do not give it your back!"
"It's coming!"
In the darkness, by the glimmer wavering off the knights' swords, I took its shape into my eyes.
A pitch-black aberration charging in, swinging black tentacles.
It was the beckoning of death: to infect the body, to break the mind, to drag humans into the abyss.
The moment the knights' swords barely deflected the tentacles.
CINCH!
My treatment was finished as well.
"Commander Charlotte, the treatment is done!"
"Hup."
Charlotte took up her sword and rose.
The bandage slowly stained with blood. But that left arm was still whole, attached to her shoulder.
The fighting spirit burned in both hands gripping the sword.
"North Wind, I command you to dwell in my blade."
—FLASH!!
Charlotte's sword flared a vivid green.
It made a mockery of all the torches it had taken to light the space, a fierce light that would not permit even the enemy's shadow.
'Aura.'
Knights were those who could use mana as a special power called aura.
The only means of opposing the Outer Gods.
Among them, Charlotte's aura was on a different plane from the other knights.
A power that filled you with hope at a glance, capable of answering this world's ruin.
"How's the left arm?"
"It hurts like hell."
"Next time I'll have to develop an anesthetic at least."
"There will not be a next time."
"Good attitude. Cut it down."
"Yes."
Charlotte, with her light-spewing sword.
Charged at the enemy.
[Forgotten Journal]
The one-armed guide never gave her name.
A single rusted blade, a worn cloak to hide her arm. That was everything she had.
—If you mean to enter the Abyss, be prepared to pay the price.
—Ten years ago, I left my left arm in that place. It was back when I was drunk on honor and loyalty, on witless youth.
—I can guide you as far as the entrance and no further.
A dungeon among the Eleven Great Scourges, consumed by an Outer God.
Every time adventurers came seeking the Swamp of the Abyss, the One-Armed Swordsman guided them.
Someone once asked her.
—Why, carrying such terrible memories, do you not leave this cursed land?
—......
—I am a runaway. A shameful, cowardly runaway.
—When I lost my arm, I gave up even my pride as a knight. Far from swinging a sword with the arm I had left, I abandoned my comrades and my commander and ran.
—He was a pathetic commander.
—But he was my lord.
—If I had died together with him then.
—Perhaps he would never have fallen and become a lord of evil.
—Perhaps this land would not have perished either.
—If I said it was regret that keeps me, would that satisfy you?
The One-Armed Swordsman's story was never passed down anywhere.
Because not one of the adventurers she guided ever subjugated the dungeon; every one of them fell.
Even so.
For as long as it took.
She kept watch over the cursed land.
Page 48. The One-Armed Swordsman
[A page of fate has been rewritten.]
[You acquire a Boon.]
[You recall a forgotten talent.]