Chapter 15: Part 6 – Freya
Sophie felt as though he had been caught in a long dream, surrounded by a serene and dark environment. In this dream, everything seemed bizarre and surreal. However, throughout it all, one black moon hung in the sky, and in the center of a pitch-black lake stood a solitary tower, standing steadfast without fail.
Does the moon symbolize something? What of the tower? Or is this merely a nightmare?
Sophie didn’t know, just as he didn’t know when he would awaken. This state persisted until he faintly overheard a conversation in his semi-consciousness —
“Freya.”
“Brendel, have you made contact?”
This was the voice of a young girl, brisk and articulate —
“No, a horde of monsters guards the main road. We have lost track of Uncle Marden and the others, plus this guy…”
The second voice also belonged to a child, its source turning toward him. Sophie’s heart twitched; he could almost feel a gaze landing on him. This gaze felt like a tether tying him to the world, grounding his body until gravity set in.
Sophie had now confirmed that he could feel his body, though it wouldn’t obey his commands.
His breathing became slightly erratic. Was he dead?
“Take care of him; he’s wounded.” The girl’s voice replied.
Wounded?
Was that about him?
Yes, he had been gravely injured. His thoughts began to clear as fragments of earlier events appeared in his mind like early cinematic scenes, starting from the moment he was reborn through the body of a young man named Brendel. Sophie had never imagined that one day he would risk his life for a cause—it didn’t seem like something a homebody should be capable of deciding.
But he had succeeded, by Martha’s grace—
“Freya, he’s awake,” the child suddenly said.
“What?”
“I saw his eyelids twitch.”
“Impossible, he sustained severe injuries. Markmey said—eh!”
Severe injuries?
Indeed, Brendel had been gravely wounded before. When he activated his Death Hardened ability, he was struck three times. Sophie clearly recalled the piercing wounds to his abdomen and right chest.
Sophie’s senses became sharper as his mind moved. The surrounding noises became clear—panicky yelling, the crackle of flames, the clang of metal, and the sound of footsteps overshadowing the earlier conversation. The temperature around him started to rise. Initially, he felt a gentle warmth against his face, but soon it became uncomfortably hot.
Heat.
He blinked and struggled to pry his eyelids open. The first thing he saw was the surprised face of a young girl.
This must be Freya. Sophie’s first impression of her was entirely consistent with his mental image of the owner of the lively, articulate voice: light brown hair, bright eyes, her long hair neatly tied into a long ponytail behind her, accentuating her spirited face. She leaned over, examining him, while Sophie examined her in return. She wore a close-fitting gray-white leather armor with a thick cotton shirt underneath, and on her left shoulder was an armband—painted with a beautifully rendered black pine needle using earthy pigments.
A militiaman from Buche.
He then noticed the sword in the girl’s hand—a medieval Western European longsword, on whose pommel was an insignia of flames.
The emblem of the Temple of Fire.
His gaze shifted upward, and he saw the blood-stained bandages around her other shoulder and left chest.
Had she experienced combat?
Every detail escaped Sophie’s notice—
When he woke up, the surroundings instantly fell silent.
“Where… is this place?”
“Romaine… cough cough!” As Sophie spoke, his throat felt as if it had been scorched by a branding iron, burning and dry. A thread of pain in his chest gradually extended through his entire body, and he couldn’t help but cough gently.
But the forest was eerily quiet, responding only with the wind that blew from the Song Mountains. The wind passed through the thick pine needles of the Golan Black Pines, becoming subtle and gentle, rustling softly like a river flowing past his ears.
No one answered.
“He’s awake.”
“Hard to believe someone can survive such injuries.”
“Maybe it’s his final revival…”
The murmurs reached Sophie’s ears. He was puzzled—these people must be militiamen from Buche, right? Had they saved him?
What about Miss Merchant?
Did the plan succeed? Had Captain Marden understood his intentions?
He resisted turning his head. First, he saw a bright campfire, the flames flickering in his vision. Sparks ascended along the black pines, disappearing into the vast, dark sky.
“Are you awake?” The girl noticed and hurried to stop him. “Wait, don’t move. This is Buche, do you remember?”
“Buche… Buche.” Sophie repeated the place name.
“Can you tell me what happened?” He exhaled, thinking that by any standard—both from his gaming experience and reality—he should have been dead.
The only possibility was that Miss Romaine actually found the Elixir of Life.
“Little Finnis and Markmey discovered you both not far from the forest.” Freya examined him curiously. Though Brendel had been in their village for close to a year, he didn’t interact much with the other young people there.
He always remained in his dim house, only occasionally accompanying Romaine to nearby towns.
Even the most foolish people from the neighboring areas knew this young man was interested in that girl who dreamed of becoming a merchant, though the girl herself likely didn’t realize it.
Thinking about this, Freya cast a glance at him, tinged with suspicion.
“You and who?” Sophie questioned back.
“You and Romaine, I really doubt how you both managed to escape.” The girl sighed despite herself.
“What about her?”
“She’s fine, don’t worry, a hundred times better than you. You should rather focus on yourself,” Freya touched her forehead and asked softly, “But she keeps talking about going back to the village. Do you know what’s going on?”
Sophie startled.
So he hadn’t used the elixir yet. What about his injuries? Instinctively, he opened his attribute interface, and green data streamed across his retina. Under the character condition section, he gazed in astonishment at this line of small text:
Life (Critical, Weak): 10% (Bandaged state, regains 1 life point per day).
Impossible! Sophie’s first reaction was that he was dreaming, as no one understood his condition better than himself. With severe wounds in multiple locations leading to massive bleeding, every situation pointed toward certain death.
How could there still be 10% life?
Sophie shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but saw the girl nearby with an anxious face: “Don’t move, you are very badly hurt….”
“Relax,” he subconsciously waved a hand.
Sophie knew himself well; though puzzled, his current condition wasn’t in a state of blood loss or other abnormalities—though still weak and on the brink of death—his recovery would depend only on gradual convalescence.
Since his condition was stable, there was no immediate danger to his life.
This was what confused him most—how did the wound stabilize on its own? The talent of Unyielding shouldn’t have this ability!
“You—!” Freya widened her eyes in disbelief. She hadn’t seen anyone so reckless.
At first, everyone thought this guy was doomed, but unexpectedly he woke up. Simply surviving this was already something to be grateful for, wasn’t it?
The problem was that this frustrating person still acted as if nothing was wrong—his life should be treated with more respect.
“Back to lying down!” The girl took a deep breath and ordered sharply.
Sophie blinked, unable to help but look at her. What was wrong with this woman?
“You, you’ve had militia training, I assume? I’m Freya, the captain of the third militia unit of Buche, and I require you to temporarily follow my orders,” Freya’s face flushed red, realizing her rudeness—”Is that clear?”
“Are you Freya?” Sophie was surprised, asking unconsciously: “Freya Alicia, born during the Year of the Blooming Flower, with your father being Knight Everton?”
“Eh, what? No, that’s not me, my father is just a carpenter in the town…”
Sudden laughter erupted around them.
“Freya, this guy’s got some good pickup lines.”
“You better be careful, Freya.”
“Spare yourselves, no one would mistake you for mute, Markmey, Eck!” Freya snapped irritably and shot a glare at the younger men.
Sophie took this opportunity to glance around at the people—this militia unit had seven or eight people, matching the Erluin standard, but the captain was a woman, and there was even a young boy…
Looking at the mismatched ‘men and women’ around him, Sophie felt a bit touched. It seemed to be a unique case, but in reality, it reflected how Erluin had weakened severely after prolonged wars.
The seemingly prosperous revival would drain this country’s final energy.
Sophie couldn’t help but sigh.
He had witnessed this history from start to finish, not expecting to relive it once more. But perhaps he could change some things, his gaze absent-mindedly lingering on the girl next to him—
Freya Alicia—the last Erluin commander, later revered as the Valkyrie of the Kingdom. The daughter of ‘Rod of Fire’ Everton, who was lost in the countryside early in her life, she was later discovered by the princess-regent and swiftly became one of the top stars of the nation.
He hadn’t expected her to experience this war too—
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the time yet for letting her take control. Sophie realized he had to be responsible for his own security and the lives of these young people.
“What are you looking at?” Freya turned her head, startled to meet the young man’s gaze.
That look wasn’t an appreciation or admiration; it was as if she were some strange creature being observed—yes, it was like visiting a zoo.
But who visits humans like it’s an exhibition?
“Have you never seen a dead person before?” Sophie suddenly asked.
“Eh?”
“I mean, are you afraid to see someone die?”
“No, I am just…” The girl paused, momentarily lost for words.
“If my injuries concern you little, may I sit up?” Sophie asked seriously in return.
“No, no.”
“Why?”
Freya was lost for words. She was indeed afraid. She was afraid to see someone die in front of her, no matter who it might be—compared to the future high and mighty Valkyrie, this Freya was still an innocent country girl.
She hadn’t experienced the cruelty of war and still innocently dreamed of the good in the world.
Sophie smiled. He hadn’t seen death either, but if you counted his experiences in ‘Amber Sword,’ he was more than twice as much as this Freya.
He had experienced the pain of loss.
Memories of past people and events tormented him relentlessly, causing anguish and confusion, but it was these emotions that made one mature and cherish life.
But it also planted seeds of hatred.
“Therefore, you are just a little girl, aren’t you? What makes you think I would obey you, Miss Freya?”
“You, you—”
Sophie realized lingering on this topic wouldn’t be beneficial. He glanced at the bandages on his chest and quickly changed the subject, “Were you the ones who applied the bandages?”
“The captain did it, she’s the only one here who knows first aid,” the young boy quickly replied, his curiosity piqued, seemingly impressed by the evident worldly-wise nature of this young man.
The militia in larger towns like Bruglas seemed far more accomplished than their humble little group.
“This is merely a temporary bandage; don’t think of moving around recklessly. I don’t want to help you again,” Freya warned promptly.
Sophie understood that apart from stopping the bleeding, the bandage’s healing effect could only work once.
However, he politely responded this time, “Thank you, though your skills could use some improvement—”
“…”
Oh Lady Martha, Freya drew in a deep breath. At that moment, she felt like strangling this smiling man—what exactly did he intend to do!?
(PS. It seems the hope of three updates has been dashed, 11 more needed everyone lets’ rally, let’s keep wishing!! If we can reach the top 12 today, let’s have a triple update!)
