Chapter 9: Understanding, Misunderstanding, Timely Arrival
An Unexpected Awakening
Intuition was hard to explain.
Wenger accepted and grew accustomed to it, yet she never relied on it.
If her first impression deemed someone harmless, would she let her guard down?
Rising from her seat, she masked her turbulent emotions with calm.
The man opened his mouth to speak, his voice hoarse.
Considering his injuries, surviving was a miracle. She had checked his condition thoroughly.
Cautiously, she poured a cup of hot water, floating it to him with magic.
After a moment, he regained some strength, propping himself against the headboard and drinking deeply.
Finally, he spoke slowly, “Could you pour me another cup?”
Wenger stepped out and returned. The man now sat upright, one hand bracing the wall. She kept her distance, passing the cup and leaving the door open.
Neither spoke. Her mind raced, wondering what he was thinking.
“Vick, Vick Elindor, my name,” he said, his voice steadier.
“Wenger,” she replied politely, nothing more.
“Thank you.” Checking his body, he realized he’d need time to recover. Thus, he asked directly, “Could I stay here a bit longer?”
“Of course, I don’t mind. But this is the infirmary—you’ll need to ask someone else. It’s late now; tomorrow’s fine.”
With him awake, her initial unease faded into calm.
Explaining felt no different from meeting any stranger—an ordinary encounter, an ordinary explanation.
She had no deeper intentions.
Since he’d stay a few days, her earlier schemes could wait.
‘Extortion requires professionalism, doesn’t it… though I’m not that type.’ ‘Miss Wenger’s a kind soul—how could I be mercenary?’ Rubbing Peach, she muttered to herself and returned to her treehouse, leaving the man behind.
Morning Encounters
The next day, she rose early. Peach, flattened as a pillow, bore her weight.
After breakfast, she kneaded Peach and fed it fruit, then headed to the church alone.
In the courtyard, a figure practiced with a wooden sword.
“Mr. Elindor, did you sleep well?” Wenger watched for a while before greeting.
Seeing last night’s girl, he smiled. “Everything’s good here, but I’ve lost all my belongings…”
His words were blunt.
It wasn’t her fault, but she had no intention of demanding anything now.
“No worries, Rilla’s kind. The church won’t charge you.”
Vick nodded, setting the sword down. Suddenly recalling something, he fetched the purple egg from the room.
“Is this yours?”
“Uh, sort of…” After so long, she still didn’t know what it was. She certainly wouldn’t admit she’d impulsively used it to heal him.
Taking it from Vick, she noticed it felt heavier.
His next casual remark stunned her.
“Dragon eggs are quite precious. You’re bold to leave it with a stranger,” he teased, a flicker of doubt in his eyes.
“Huh…? Oh, right…”
Dragon egg? What was that?
A dragon egg?! It was barely durian-sized—hardly a legendary creature’s.
Her thoughts were practically written on her face.
Both harbored their own musings, unaware of each other’s unease.
“Well, rest up. Find me if you need anything.” Suppressing her excitement, Wenger clutched the egg and dashed from the church.
A Familiar Shadow
Vick sat, recalling his battle with the thunder dragon. Everything was fine until a figure flashed mid-air, distracting him. His sword flew off, and he barely survived the fight with raw strength.
That veiled figure in the battle felt oddly familiar. For a moment, her silhouette merged with Wenger’s from earlier.
‘An illusion… probably.’
In this world, anything could happen. The attack was accidental—he hadn’t expected to encounter such a ferocious beast upon entering Glenmbak’s far side.
Meanwhile, Wenger placed the dragon egg on her potion table, inspecting it with a magnifying glass.
Did dragons imprint on the first thing they saw, like a mother? If so, would she have to carry this massive thing around?
Vick seemed knowledgeable and easy to talk to. Perhaps she could glean useful information from him—a different kind of “profit.”
Add the dragon egg, and her gains were substantial.
“Vick Elindor…”
Sitting duck-style on her bed, hugging the egg, she giggled.
Yet, why did his name feel familiar…?
“Teacher, something making you happy?” Vey, standing behind her for a while, finally spoke up.
“Ah…! Vey, when did you get here?”
“Teacher, I’ve been here forever! I called from downstairs, but you didn’t answer, so I came up.” Vey set aside her exasperation to report, “The team’s back—Aiton’s men. I’ve settled them. You’re not planning to send them away yet, right?”
Free labor? No way she’d let that go!
Wenger composed herself, trying to look serious. After tidying the house, she headed to the village with her student.
Autumn’s Embrace
As autumn settled, the heat faded. The giant tree’s shadow cloaked the path, sunlight dimming as if summer never was.
It seemed larger.
Her tree, with its sprawling canopy, brought inexplicable comfort. As long as it stood, her treehouse wouldn’t fall.
Legends spoke of a World Tree in another dimension, upholding the cosmos and nurturing the land’s order.
The bonfire plaza buzzed again. Soldiers stabled their horses and rested in the square.
Kailos exchanged information with the group.
The two from the treehouse hadn’t expected to run into Vick. He said he was strolling, exploring the area.
“You came at the right time,” Wenger said, scanning the surroundings. The mountains’ maples were poised to blaze. In days, a vibrant autumn would unfold.
By then, cool breezes would blow, pumpkins would ripen in the western fields, and she’d fish by the nearby lake.
Vick nodded in agreement, joining them.
A Misunderstood War
They chatted like friends along the way. Boldly, Wenger asked about Sardin City’s fall.
“…Not quite,” Vick said, his expression odd, hesitant. “The situation isn’t as dire as you think. Sardin City was abandoned deliberately by the lord, with the city master’s consent.”
No choice but to agree.
His words implied he’d come from there—how else would he know?
“Then what about Sardin City?” Wenger’s question seemed childish.
The girl trailing her teacher stayed silent.
Unnoticed, they reached the feast plaza from that night. Vick still hadn’t answered.