The road eventually gave way, and the carriage forged ahead across the open plains.
Despite some maintenance, the terrain remained rugged. Whenever the wheels struck a stray stone, the passenger cabin jolted sharply. Neneva had been delighting in the jostling, bouncing on her seat as if testing the tension of the springs, but eventually, she grew still.
A breeze drifted through the wide-open windows, fluttering the curtains. Gradually, the scent of the air began to shift.
The metallic tang of iron began to bleed into the earthy scent of grass.
As we drew closer to the Cave of Falling Shadows, the unmistakable stench of blood permeated the air.
Neneva, who had been frolicking until then, noticed the change and fell silent. Garon’s brow furrowed, his expression growing increasingly grim.
As the scent grew thicker, the carriage slowed. A canter became a trot, then a walk, until we finally ground to a halt.
Suddenly, the ambient noise of the area rushed in. Voices could be heard from all directions.
They were not happy voices. They were hollow groans of agony that sounded as though they were echoing from the depths of the earth. I wondered what kind of hellscape awaited us outside.
I cautiously opened the cabin door and stepped onto the grass. My legs felt unsteady after the long journey, lending a surreal quality to my every step.
The sight before my eyes only heightened that sensation.
Tents had been pitched haphazardly across the field, serving as makeshift shelters for the wounded. Most of the men had been stripped of their armor, their bodies bound in blood-soaked bandages. They moaned in pain while insects swarmed over their injuries.
The cloying smell of blood and fat was acting as a beacon for the bugs.
"...Is this an Aid Station?"
Neneva climbed down from the carriage, whispering the question as she took in the overwhelming scene.
"Yeah, looks like it," I replied.
We were still some distance from the Cave of Falling Shadows. They were likely gathering the wounded in the rear for treatment, but by the look of it, they couldn't keep up. They were drowning—short on both hands and medicine.
A heavy knot tightened in my chest.
"I’m going to go hand out some Potions."
I swung my backpack around to my chest and stepped into the nearest tent. Over ten men were laid out inside, seemingly left to fend for themselves.
The stench was appalling.
Winged insects buzzed around, grating on my nerves.
"Dammit...!"
I channeled [Insect Swarm Control], a facet of my [Insect Master] job, and drove every bug out of the tent. My field of vision cleared instantly. I couldn't believe just how many of them had been swarming the place.
"Uuugh..."
"I’m going to pour a Potion directly onto the wound. I’m taking the bandage off now."
I knelt beside the man closest to me and shifted the cloth wrapped around his midsection. He had a massive laceration that leaked blood with every shallow breath. This was bad.
I hurriedly pulled a Vial from my [Storage Space] and poured the Potion liberally over his abdomen. The liquid took effect immediately, and the area was bathed in a soft light.
After a few moments, the laceration closed, and the man’s breathing stabilized.
"You’re going to be okay."
"Uu..."
I left the dazed man and moved to the next casualty. Every one of them had horrific injuries. No matter how many Potions I had, it wouldn't be enough for everyone here.
"Oh! Has the resupply arrived already?!"
As I finished treating the last man in the tent, a voice called out from behind me. I turned to find a man in full armor.
I stood up to face him.
"Hm? You aren't with the Knight Order. Which Mercenary Band are you from?"
"I’m not with a Mercenary Band, unfortunately. I came to the Cave of Falling Shadows on business and found this mountain of casualties. I was just trying to do what I could."
"Why would a civilian go to such lengths...?"
The Captain looked conflicted, clearly unsure of how to judge me.
"Captain... that man... he saved us with a Potion..."
The man I had first treated spoke up, forcing himself into a sitting position. The Captain’s eyes widened in shock.
"Is that true? Please, forgive my rudeness! Thank you for saving my men!"
The Captain’s previous suspicion vanished instantly. He straightened his posture and gave me a deep, sincere bow. It was enough to make me feel a bit embarrassed.
"This is a nightmare. What’s happening at the front lines?"
His face darkened, and he gave a small, weary shake of his head.
"It might be more than we can handle."
"Is this Parade really that bad?"
"It is—"
The Captain started to explain, but in that moment, the world went silent.
The groans of the wounded, the buzzing of insects, and even the sound of the wind snapping against the tent vanished. In their place came a torrent of magical power so dense it made my skin crawl.
An instant later, my vision was dyed a soft, pale blue. It wasn't a violent flash, but a warm, compassionate radiance that permeated the thick fabric of the tent and overflowed into the camp.
"What is this?! What’s happening?! A Monster attack?!"
The Captain’s panicked voice sounded terribly out of place in the sudden serenity. I didn't feel any Malice in this light, though. In fact, it felt familiar. I knew exactly who was behind this.
I stepped out of the tent and looked around.
The tent directly adjacent to us was glowing with that same blue light. Drawn to it, I pulled back the entrance flap.
The interior had been transformed into a sanctuary, severed from the mundane world.
"Neneva..."
She was there, standing in the center of the tent. Yet, her feet didn't touch the ground.
She hovered just inches in the air, her silver hair shimmering as a pulsing phosphorescence radiated from her body.
Neneva’s eyes were closed. Her usual childish innocence had been replaced by a profile of divine majesty, like a goddess of mercy.
Particles of light swirled around her, coalescing into shimmering flower petals. These countless flakes of light fell upon the wounded like a gentle, ceaseless snow.
"T-This is..."
A miracle occurred wherever a petal touched a body.
Toxins vanished from festering wounds, new flesh knit together, and skin sealed over the gaps in an instant. The agonizing contortions on the men's faces smoothed into expressions of profound peace.
"The wound... it’s closed..." "I can move my arm again..."
Men who had been as motionless as corpses moments ago began to sit up, murmuring in disbelief as they examined their own bodies.
Eventually, the light faded, and Neneva’s feet touched the grass once more. She let out a long, quiet breath.
Her poise was beautiful, yet undeniably inhuman.
"Th-Thank you! Thank you so much!" "A miracle! It's a miracle!" "Praise the gods!"
The men prostrated themselves before Neneva, weeping as they shouted their gratitude.
"This is..."
The Captain, who had followed me inside, stared at Neneva as she stood wrapped in the lingering traces of light. Then, he spoke in a trembling voice.
"The Saint..."