OPDSP 11

He thought about giving it a try, but the Grand Duke was far out of reach. Perhaps sensing Aeryl’s intense gaze, the Grand Duke suddenly turned to look at him. His sunken eyes paused on Aeryl for a moment, then moved on.

“We move.”

The Grand Duke spoke, and moments later, the sharp sound of a horn pierced the air.

Aeryl tensed and began walking. He was about to step into that dreadful forest of his own accord. The very sight of it made his vision swim, but the formidable presence radiating from the Grand Duke and the knights in the lead brought him some measure of reassurance.

***

Despite his nerves, there was nothing to do but follow the lead group.

Though they were only at the forest’s edge, the ominous aura proved they were already inside the demonic zone. A slight turn of the head revealed shadowed depths, dark and watchful, as if something were lying in wait.

The vanguard advanced with practiced ease, as though familiar with the path. To Aeryl, every part of the forest looked the same, but the others seemed to see something he didn’t.

After some distance, an order to halt came down. As he stood still, Aeryl saw the Grand Duke and the Black Knights head off somewhere.

And then, battle erupted.

Kyayayaak!
Clang! Clang!
Thud!

“Flank them!”

The fierce sounds of combat rang out. The Grand Duke and the Black Knights were swiftly and efficiently wiping out a nest of monsters.

The fighting was far enough from where Aeryl was waiting that it didn’t feel real. Those around him looked tense but calm.

But then—a monster suddenly leapt out from between the trees.

“!!!”

“Everyone stay still!”

It made no sound as it pounced—a viscous, jelly-like orb. A slime. It had slipped through while the vanguard was away. Slimes were the lowest class of monsters and often disregarded, but seeing one up close was terrifying.

Everything that touched the slime’s body began to corrode as if doused in sulfuric acid. The creature advanced rapidly.

At that moment, knights and soldiers stationed at the rear sprang into action. Following the knights’ commands, the soldiers formed a defensive formation around Aeryl and the others, swiftly dealing with the slime.

The threat was neutralized in an instant.

Wow…

It was Aeryl’s first time seeing a monster—and one had appeared without warning, only to be dealt with in the blink of an eye. It was one surprise after another.

He blinked in awe.

But someone was watching him with clear displeasure—Fedel.

“What’s he so shocked about? Seriously, what a drama queen,” Fedel muttered, clicking his tongue irritably.

“Judging by that dazed look, it must all be new to him,” another medic standing nearby added, clearly siding with Fedel. His gaze toward Aeryl was equally unfriendly. News had spread that Aeryl hadn’t even shown up to greet anyone on the first day, and he’d already made himself unpopular.

The real cause of that, of course, was Fedel’s meddling—but Fedel simply smiled quietly to himself.

“How is anyone supposed to trust a military physician like that? And he even pushed Lady Kyla aside. Who knows what His Grace is thinking.”

Traditionally, it had always been Kyla, the head of the medical corps, who participated in the first-day sortie. That custom had been broken by Aeryl’s arrival, and many found it unacceptable.

“Just leave him be. Even if the Duke favors him, if he lacks skill and can’t adapt, it’s over. He’ll end up like that one.”

“True. Let’s just wait and see.”

Fedel and the medic exchanged wicked smiles. Fedel, in particular, was already savoring the thought of Aeryl failing miserably, floundering with his meager abilities.

Unaware of any of this, Aeryl remained focused on the Grand Duke. Once the battle concluded and the lead unit returned, it was time for the mid-group to begin their part. Porters rushed forward to collect the monster corpses, while Fedel and the medics moved between people, looking for the injured.

So they treat the wounded immediately on-site…

Aeryl observed how things worked and began moving as well. The first person he spotted was a soldier sitting with blood dripping from his head.

“Are you all right? Let me take a look at your wound.”

But the soldier recoiled, his face contorting in disgust.

“No, no. I’ll wait for one of the medics.”

“Pardon?”

“I’d rather not risk the wound getting worse.”

The soldier’s voice was heavy with distrust. It was the first time Aeryl had encountered such a reaction, and he was taken aback. At that moment, Fedel strode up swiftly.

“I’ll take care of this. You should step aside, Military Physician.”

Fedel subtly nudged Aeryl out of the way with his body.

“If it’s you, Mr. Fedel, I can relax. Better than letting some stranger touch it.”

The soldier handed over his injury to Fedel without hesitation. Aeryl had no choice but to step back.

‘I’ll find another patient.’

He swept his gaze over the area, searching for any injured knights or soldiers. But no one met his eyes. Aeryl, perceptive as ever, immediately picked up on the subtle discomfort in the air.

‘They’re all refusing to be treated by me.’

A stranger, whose background was unknown, and whose skills were unproven—that’s how they saw him.

He couldn’t exactly blame them. With most doctors trained through apprenticeships, there was a huge range in ability. If you were unlucky enough to get treated by a quack, even a small wound could become a big problem.

‘I just need to show them what I can do.’

Fortunately, Aeryl was confident in his skill. Even his strict master had acknowledged him.

But it wasn’t as simple as he’d hoped. No matter how much he waited, he never got a chance to prove himself.

Several battles occurred, and injuries followed, yet every one of the wounded refused Aeryl’s help and chose the medics instead. And since none of the injuries were severe enough to require healing magic, there wasn’t even an urgent opportunity.

While everyone in the battle squad was fulfilling their duties, Aeryl had nothing to do. Like an extra part no one needed, he was left standing off to the side. Fedel took great satisfaction in the sight.

Then it happened.

“Aaagh!”

A sharp cry rang out from the vanguard, who were in the middle of cutting down a goblin tribe.

“Shit! Fall back, Mason!”

A knight named Mason broke from the fight and headed straight for Fedel. An arrow was lodged in his right arm. Holding it with his left, Mason’s face was pale with pain, his jaw clenched and eyes flickering in panic.

“This isn’t good. It needs immediate treatment.”

Fedel rushed to inspect the wound and immediately blanched. The arrow had sunk deep and struck a bad spot. Worse, the flesh around it had begun turning dark. Poison—without a doubt.

‘If I mess with this wrong, he might lose the use of his arm.’

For a knight who wielded a sword, losing the right arm was practically a death sentence.

If I screw this up, I’ll get blamed.

While Fedel hesitated, he caught sight of Aeryl. Having heard the scream, Aeryl had already reached Mason and was inspecting the wound intently.

“This needs a military physician.”

Fedel quickly stepped back, pretending to yield the spot.

“Him?” Mason recoiled. “Seriously?”

Letting an unknown doctor treat his sword arm—it was unthinkable. But there was no one else available. Aeryl quickly assessed Mason’s condition. His diagnosis matched Fedel’s, but unlike Fedel, he immediately began planning the treatment.

Pulling out the arrow will cause heavy bleeding. Fast and precise action is key.

First, Aeryl took out a long bandage and wrapped it tightly around Mason’s arm—to slow the spread of the poison. Then he pulled out a medical blade, sterilized it quickly, and brought it to the wound.

“W-What are you doing?!”

“I need to remove the arrow. Please stay still.”

Aeryl held Mason’s arm firmly and gave him a warning—while subtly releasing a small amount of pheromone. Mason’s body abruptly relaxed, his resistance fading.

Without realizing it, Mason allowed Aeryl to proceed. In that brief window, Aeryl made a precise incision alongside the arrow. The surgical blade sliced through flesh cleanly.

“Ghh…!”

There hadn’t been time for anesthesia, yet Mason endured the pain better than expected. Aeryl spread the wound open and grasped the arrow.

My life is over…

Dark thoughts flashed through Mason’s mind. He’d taken part in the purge unit for years. The Snowy Mountain was called the Demonic Frontier for a reason—many were wounded in battle. Each year, he’d seen knights retire from injuries they couldn’t recover from.

He’d always watched them go, telling himself it could happen to anyone. But now that it was him, despair crashed over him like a wave. His training helped him keep a calm face, but deep down, he felt certain his knightly career was finished.

And just his luck—the physician assigned to him was a rookie. If it had been Kyla, the veteran with proven skill, there might’ve been hope. But with Aeryl, an unknown, that hope was thin.

I probably won’t be able to use this arm again.

He’d never hold a sword properly again. This was the end of his career. In that moment, memories of his journey—from the first time he held a sword to the position he held now—flashed through his mind like a slideshow.

“AAAH!”

And just like that, Aeryl yanked the arrow out in one clean motion.