Evan Bacher, once territory of the Teshia Empire, had become nothing but a wasteland.
Of the ten noble houses’ private army units, six divisions of the Farsade Empire had mobilized for this war, excluding only those few houses whose members had failed to graduate from the officer academy, Ecole Farsade, making their might even more formidable than the Lindkoem recapture campaign five years ago.
“Haaahm.”
Normally, Lugaid would have sprung out of bed without even stretching, immediately tidying the barracks and taking on all the chores.
But today, unusually relaxed, he pulled out his dress uniform, carefully folded beneath his blanket the previous night to keep its crisp creases, and brushed off the dust.
Lugaid belonged to the Blachnatt Division, the elite vanguard among the six divisions.
Though most divisions were well-equipped, the Blachnatt Division stood out distinctly: not only did its officers wear the finest-looking uniforms, but even its common soldiers wielded the newest rifles, drawing envy from every other division.
Moreover, their division commander, Duke Casar de Blachnatt, was a brilliant graduate at the top of his class from Ecole Farsade, and since this same man now served as Admiral in overall command of the Teshia campaign, every operation he executed met with resounding success.
Today, one soldier from each division had been left behind to welcome the nurses arriving at the field hospital and assist with transporting supplies, and naturally, the youngest recruit, Lugaid, whose absence from active operations posed no major issue, had been selected.
Humming a tune, he changed into his uniform and headed toward the designated meeting spot to greet the nurses. He did not expect much, but perhaps among them, he might find his destined match.
After two years of war, the forests had burned away, leaving Evan Bacher a barren expanse, now lined with Farsade Imperial Army barracks.
The sight alone, rows of semi-cylindrical Nissen huts hammered into the desert-like wasteland, sent chills down one’s spine.
Even the nurses, who had been clutching their aching waists from bumping along the unpaved road, stretched their necks eagerly, straining to take in the imposing might of the Farsade Imperial Army.
“Looks like that three-story building behind the barracks is the temporary ward.”
“Wow! It is older than I expected, but not bad at all.”
“At least it is better than those barracks.”
The nurses, who had remained utterly silent the entire truck ride, exchanging only awkward glances, finally groaned and began climbing down, one by one, as the vehicle halted after half a day of relentless travel.
“Oh, my back…”
“Ugh, I am dead…”
“Am I here as a nurse or as a patient?”
Just as everyone burst into laughter at the last remark, the canvas flap at the truck’s rear was pulled aside. The nurses’ cheerful faces instantly turned to astonishment.
“Everyone, attention!”
A group of soldiers stood rigidly at attention, saluting the nurses who had volunteered to come to the front lines at great personal risk.
Seeing the newly arrived nurses bow uncertainly or offer clumsy replies, the soldiers approached the truck’s rear to escort them down courteously.
“Please step down.”
Scáthach, too, received an escort from a young-looking soldier, his face flushed bright red, clearly flustered by the rare sight of a woman in this war zone.
Though she had volunteered to gain independence from Nemed’s newlywed life, receiving such warm treatment filled her with a quiet pride, and Scáthach smiled softly.
“Um… I am… Lugaid.”
The soldier who had escorted Scáthach whispered so faintly that she lifted her head to check if she had heard correctly, studying his profile.
The soldier stared rigidly ahead, clearly tense, though his lips twitched ever so slightly.
“I am sorry. I should not have been distracted…”
Only then did she notice that everyone except the soldier at the very front stood frozen stiff, eyes fixed forward with unnatural rigidity.
“Oh, I see. Yes, of course.”
Scáthach quickly turned her gaze forward again and followed him into the field hospital, her own face now taut with nervousness.
Aside from some collapsed sections of the outer wall, likely from bombardment, the interior was surprisingly clean and spacious.
Perhaps because the Farsade Imperial Army held the upper hand, the ward’s condition was not particularly dire.
Though the cots were nearly full, most patients appeared to be lightly wounded, their expressions filled not with pain or suffering but with curiosity toward the newly arrived nurses.
Lugaid clenched and unclenched his fists, swallowing hard as he noticed everyone’s eyes turning toward the nurse he had escorted.
Though romantic, or illicit, affairs between soldiers and nurses were common in wartime due to the scarcity of chances to meet the opposite sex, this particular nurse beside him was far too stunningly beautiful.
Could escorting her have been fate?
He even found himself thinking the foolish thought: Why was I not injured so I could lie in this field hospital?
Following the order from another division’s squad leader at the front, Lugaid gave a brief bow and exited the hospital tent.
The angelically beautiful nurse also gave him a polite nod, and yet, even that small gesture made him feel the envious stares of the other soldiers.
Ah… So this is what love at first sight feels like!
She must be the one I have been waiting for! Overwhelmed by sudden emotion, Lugaid’s entire body swelled with warmth.
No matter how favorable the situation, field hospitals in a war zone were always short-staffed.
Scáthach had come with Ériu to the well to wash the used blankets and towels from the ward. Though the chore was tiresome, laundry duty was surprisingly popular, mainly because it let them avoid Head Nurse Cathleen’s sharp eyes.
After all, enduring Cathleen’s short temper, heightened by constant stress, was widely considered the hardest part of life at the field hospital.
Additionally, laundry duty gave them a rare chance to exchange glances with able-bodied soldiers outdoors.
Since a soldier’s quality reflected directly on his noble house’s honor, even common infantrymen were carefully selected elites.
Ériu, Scáthach’s closest friend, crouched by the well, tucking her bright-red hands between her knees and grumbling.
“Now I see why there were not many volunteers. Doing laundry in winter is the worst.”
Though early winter in Evan Bacher was not intensely cold, washing clothes in icy well water was another matter entirely. Scáthach’s hands, rubbing the blankets in the large tub, quickly swelled red as if about to burst.
At least the soldiers always fetched water for them on laundry days, a small consolation.
“Shall we stomp them clean with our feet?”
“Your feet freezing would be even worse! Your hands are about to split open. Let us switch now.”
“I can still manage.”
“If you get frostbite, I will have to do your share from now on, you know?”
At Ériu’s sharp glance, Scáthach offered an awkward smile and wrapped her swollen hands in her uniform hem.
Though Ériu’s tone sounded scolding, she quietly looked out for Scáthach, almost like a female version of Nemed.
Moreover, most soldiers were courteous and respectful, making life at the field hospital far more bearable than Nemed had feared.
The work was a bit exhausting, but since it resembled her duties at a regular hospital, it was not unbearable.
The only worry was that among the three noble houses assigned to Scáthach’s ward, the Blachnatt house was included.
Yet, compared to the other two houses, Blachnatt had noticeably fewer wounded, and, more importantly, the man she feared meeting most had not shown his face even once in the past fortnight, allowing her to breathe easier.
Duke Casar de Blachnatt, the Admiral, seemed to appear only in stories of successful operations and heroic feats, never actually crossing paths with Scáthach, who, as a nurse, had no occasion to see him since he apparently never got injured.
“Um… Miss Sc… Ériu.”
Among the Blachnatt Division’s soldiers, Lugaid, the one who had escorted Scáthach on her first day, now circled around her and Ériu nearly every day.
At the familiar sound of Lugaid’s voice, Ériu turned her head before Scáthach did. The twitch at Ériu’s lips suggested she was ready to tease again.
According to Ériu, since he always called her “ScÉriu,” he clearly could not bring himself to say Scáthach’s name, proof he was fond of Scáthach.
Could that really be true?
To Scáthach, it seemed obvious he brought gifts meant for two but always gave them to Ériu, so if anyone held his interest, surely it was Ériu. But Ériu insisted otherwise, calling her a fool for even thinking so.
Today’s gift was particularly valuable: latex gloves, so scarce that even Head Nurse Cathleen issued them only every other day. Ériu quickly reached out and accepted them.
“Oh my! You even brought latex gloves today!”
“I… I happened to pass by and saw the water looked freezing.”
“My, my, you brought a pair! How thoughtful.”
Ériu dramatically wiped her hands on her uniform front. Satisfied by her exaggerated reaction, Lugaid smiled shyly.
Without even glancing at Scáthach, he scratched the back of his head and addressed Ériu once more.
“Then… I leave her in your care.”
Apparently, that “I leave her in your care” greeting, delivered every time, was meant for Scáthach.
“Thanks to you, I even got to wear latex gloves while washing! The Blachnatt Division’s supplies really are top-notch, huh? I heard their soldiers are the best quality too, competition to join is fierce! Thanks to you, Scáthach, I get to enjoy some luxury too!”
The moment Lugaid left, Ériu snatched the gloves and slipped them on, prompting Scáthach to pout.
“You really do seem to be the one he likes…”
Even if his attention were truly meant for Scáthach, her honest impression of the young soldier was simply this:
So there are soldiers this carefree even in a war zone.
Thus, she was not particularly curious about whom he fancied.
Woof!
If anything, it was the other way around.
“Mungmungi!”
A large black-furred dog came bounding joyfully at Scáthach’s call, panting and rubbing against her.
“Anyone would think you are the owner, seriously,” Ériu remarked.
Smiling faintly, Scáthach embraced the dog, nearly her own size, and stroked its fur.
“Yeah, really. He looks just like my puppy.”
“You have a puppy too?”
“Well… not exactly a puppy anymore…”
Remembering Nix, the black puppy she had raised at the Payone Monastery annex, Scáthach’s eyebrows drooped.
She had planned to bring Nix to Corbe once she secured a house that allowed dogs, but Etin’s reply letter said Nix had disappeared from the monastery the very day Scáthach left.
Heartbroken by the news of Nix’s disappearance but unable to return to Lindkoem, Scáthach could only wait for word that he had come back.
So meeting a dog so uncannily similar to hers, so far from home, filled her with delight.
From her apron pocket, she pulled out five dried blueberries, the entirety of her morning ration, and offered them to Mungmungi.
“I am sorry… this is all I have today.”
The black dog quickly licked up the blueberries from her palm. The warmth left by his tongue made her smile fondly as she stroked his gleaming fur.
He was clearly someone’s well-cared-for pet, clean, shiny, and fragrant, so how could he roam the barracks so freely?
Though both Ériu and Scáthach were curious, the field hospital was too busy to ask whose dog he was.
Asking Cathleen such a frivolous question would surely earn them only icy glares and a mountain of extra chores instead of an answer. If they had time for idle questions, they should get back to work.
After circling excitedly around the two as they washed together in latex gloves, the black dog soon vanished again.
“He even acts just like Nix,” Scáthach murmured with a small laugh.
“We must be winning, both soldiers and dogs seem so relaxed.”
“Lugaid is not relaxed, he is squeezing this visit between duties. To see you.”
“You even memorized his name, Ériu?”
When Scáthach teased back, Ériu rolled her eyes.
Yet, thanks to Lugaid’s gloves, they finished laundry quickly with warm hands, but a great trial awaited them upon their return.
At lunchtime.
Head Nurse Cathleen stood arms crossed, glaring at them with an expression as sharp as ice.
“Who told you to wear latex gloves while doing laundry? Where did you even get them? Did you steal supplies? I never authorized personal use!”
“We absolutely did not steal them! A kind soldier gave them to us…”
Unable to eat lunch, Scáthach and Ériu stood helplessly with hands clasped, enduring Cathleen’s interrogation. Even Ériu, normally full of playful mischief when teasing Scáthach, was powerless before the head nurse’s fierce demeanor.
Though Scáthach alone answered Cathleen’s questions, each reply seemed only to fuel her anger further, leaving Scáthach increasingly frightened.
“I absolutely despise people as lacking in duty as you.”
What strange logic, that using latex gloves proved a lack of duty? But arguing would only make things worse, so both women stayed silent.
“Drop any thoughts of marrying some well-born officer and go back immediately.”
“We never thought of that…”
After washing so diligently her back ached, only to be met with scolding, Scáthach sniffled, her nose stinging as she replied. Her answer only seemed to further provoke Cathleen.
“I suppose your pretty face always got you what you wanted back home, but this is a war zone. If you cannot handle work with that fragile mindset, pack your bags. There is a patient transfer tonight. You can leave on that transport, or if you refuse, Miss Scáthach, you will prove your resolve by cleaning the medicine storeroom alone starting today.”
The way Cathleen singled her out made one thing clear: she disliked everyone, but especially Scáthach.
This was obvious from how, just moments ago, she had been glaring only at Scáthach, not Ériu.
Biting her lower lip hard, Scáthach barely held back her tears.
“I will do it, the storeroom duty.”
Cathleen, who had already half-turned away, halted as if a broken machine grinding to a stop, then slowly turned back.
It had been several days since relocating to Evan Bacher, and due to manpower shortages, empty crates and medical supplies had piled up like mountains. And this girl was offering to sort it all alone?
“Are you stubborn, or just stupid?”