The Price of Reckless Charge

[End of Round] The seventh round began.

[Double Strike] [Searing Blow +1] [Reckless Charge]

Sovenia’s eyes lit up with a keen intensity.

‘Now!’

Abandoning her tactic of throwing stones, Sovenia activated [Reckless Charge] and hurtled towards Bloodaxe, her movements as agile and swift as a cheetah.

Bloodaxe, consumed by his roaring struggle with Wawalde, seemed oblivious to the threat rapidly approaching from his flank.

As Sovenia closed in, poised to unleash [Double Strike] and [Searing Blow +1], Bloodaxe abruptly disregarded Wawalde and, with a powerful swing of his arm, hurled his battleaxe.

The axe soared through the air towards Sovenia, imbued with such immense force that it threatened to carry her across the room and embed her against the wall.

Mid-flight, Sovenia executed [Double Strike] and [Searing Blow +1].

The Moonlit Blade ignited with scorching flames, radiating a blinding light, and, amplified by the inherent attack power of [Reckless Charge], it cleaved the incoming battleaxe in two.

Immediately after throwing his axe, Bloodaxe lunged at the slender Sovenia, much like an old buffalo pouncing on a lamb; however, Wawalde seized the moment, striking Bloodaxe’s left knee, causing him to stumble directly towards Sovenia.

Seizing the opportunity, Sovenia slashed out, triggering the [Double Strike] effect, and the Moonlit Blade erupted with terrifying flames once more.

Bloodaxe’s bovine eyes widened. “Impossible—” he roared, utterly bewildered by the unnatural speed of Sovenia’s [Searing Blow].

Sovenia’s sword slashed across his unprotected face, and with a sickening boom, Bloodaxe’s face exploded; simultaneously, Wawalde delivered another crushing blow to Bloodaxe’s back.

With a single swift strike, Sovenia severed Bloodaxe’s remaining weapon-wielding hand, then thrust her sword through his throat, piercing clean through his nape and drawing forth a gush of steaming blood, before she quickly retreated.

Nevertheless, a few drops of blood landed on her thigh, slowly sliding down her smooth skin, leaving a vivid crimson trail against her fair complexion.

Bloodaxe’s body crashed heavily to the ground, and the air filled with the stench of burnt fur mingled with the coppery tang of blood; he was dead.

Sovenia impassively withdrew her longsword, shaking the blood from its blade.

She then looked up, her gaze fixed on the three ethereal card images shimmering above Bloodaxe’s head.

Gold Card: [Roar] 0 cost. Starting next round, gain 1 additional energy per round, but become Vulnerable for two rounds, taking 50% more damage.

Sovenia frowned; this card did not align with her combat style.

To her surprise, the remaining two cards were mere Bronze Cards: [Heavy Strike] and [Iron Wave].

She stared at the three cards as if they were an unappetizing meal alongside two piles of excrement. ‘This Gold Card? Unacceptable. I’d rather let that stupid dog take two more axe blows if it meant I could draw a different Gold Card.’

With no other option, she decided to feed it to the [Blazing Gold Forge]. With a mere thought, the Gold Card shattered, transforming into invisible energy that flowed into the [Blazing Gold Forge], charging it.

She turned to face Wawalde.

Wawalde, covered in blood, approached her. Several deep cracks marred his plate armor, and a penetrating wound on his right arm dripped blood from his elbow.

His face was pale, his forehead slick with sweat. He surveyed Sovenia from head to toe, and, seeing no apparent injuries, spoke.

“Are you alright? Did you gain anything?”

Sovenia shook her head. “Nothing.”

With that, she wiped her blood-stained sword clean on the minotaur’s fur.

Wawalde did not press further, simply nodding. “Let’s continue.”

He turned and walked away, and beneath his tattered chainmail skirt, drops of blood fell to the ground, forming a continuous trail.

Sovenia watched the blood: one drop, two drops, three.

They splattered onto the flagstones, blossoming like crimson flowers, strikingly vivid, even more so than the blood of other demon kin.

Her gaze followed the trail of blood, from the ground to Wawalde’s heel, then upwards, where wounds beneath his torn chainmail skirt still seeped.

She had watched, axe blow after axe blow, as those injuries were inflicted.

She recalled a leather strap on his plate armor snapping when Bloodaxe’s third axe strike landed on Wawalde’s shoulder.

At the time, she had been counting rounds, throwing stones, waiting for [Double Strike] and [Searing Blow +1].

While she waited, Wawalde had endured four more axe blows.

Sovenia’s fingers tightened around her sword hilt.

‘Is this pity? Impossible. It’s merely weapon maintenance. It’s only proper to maintain one’s weapons,’ she told herself. ‘This is just maintenance.’

Yet, she remained motionless.

Wawalde’s footsteps receded into the distance, but Sovenia still stood rooted to the spot, staring at the growing pool of blood on the ground.

She remembered something.

No, she remembered nothing at all.

Sovenia simply gazed at the blood, then spoke. “Wait.”

Wawalde turned around. “What is it?”

Sovenia said, “You need first aid.”

“Can you provide it?”

Sovenia found a clean spot. “Come, sit down.”

Wawalde, as docile as a golden retriever, sat down obediently.

Sovenia knelt on the ground, her legs pressed together, and from her black leather backpack, she produced strong spirits, bandages, and a needle and thread.

She unfastened the straps on Wawalde’s plate armor, then removed his tattered arming jacket, revealing the mangled wounds beneath.

Without a word, she uncorked the bottle and poured the pungent spirits directly onto his wounds.

“Hiss—” Wawalde gasped, sucking in a sharp breath against the pain.

Sovenia then picked up the needle and thread.

Wawalde couldn’t help but ask, “You can stitch wounds too?”

“Bear with it,” Sovenia instructed. “The needle is thick.”

Wawalde took another deep, cold breath, detecting the scent of icy pine needles.

Sovenia continued to tend to his wounds, her movements unbelievably practiced: cleaning, disinfecting, then beginning to stitch—all in one fluid motion.

Her fingers, slender and steady, threaded the needle through Wawalde’s flesh.

The needle pierced skin and muscle, emitting a faint tearing sound.

Sovenia’s hand remained firm, yet she noticed her own breathing pattern had altered; with each stitch, she held her breath, only exhaling after tying the knot.

She had never been so meticulous even when stitching her own injuries.

She caught the scent of Wawalde’s sweat, mingled with blood and burnt fabric.

The aroma threatened to conjure a memory, but she immediately suppressed the thought.

The needle pierced him again, and Wawalde merely let out a low groan.

Sovenia’s fingers tightened momentarily, then relaxed, moving on to the next stitch.

Her eyelashes were cast low, her golden deer eyes fixed solely on the wound, carefully avoiding Wawalde’s face.

‘Don’t look.’

‘Just stitch it.’

Her breathing gradually steadied.

Wawalde lowered his head, watching the slender Sovenia, and it was then that he discovered the source of the icy pine needle scent.

It emanated from Sovenia’s every breath, wafting in subtle waves, mingled with faint sweat and strong blood, reminiscent of burnt dry branches after a snowfall.

Each time Wawalde inhaled, the scent filled his lungs, momentarily drawing his attention away from the pain.

The needle plunged in once more, Wawalde grunted softly, and new beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.

Sovenia tied a knot, bit off the thread, and declared, “It’s done.”

Wawalde, surprised by the swiftness of the procedure, remarked, “That was fast. You’re very skilled.”

“You learn quickly when you’ve killed a lot in the Demon Realm.”

With that, Sovenia lowered her head to pack her things, her gaze deliberately avoiding Wawalde’s injuries.

Sovenia put away her needle and thread, then shouldered her backpack.

A rationale for her unusual meticulousness formed in her mind.

‘This stupid dog, being a useful weapon, certainly requires tactical maintenance, much like my sword—except this ‘stupid dog sword’ happens to feel pain.’