Chapter 8: The Reward for Survival is Employment

[EMERGENCY QUEST]

[Keep Him Alive!]

[Objective: Assist in stabilizing the wounded soldier until Healer Maela Thorn can safely complete treatment.]

[Completion Possibility: 83.41%]

[Reward: Restore 15 Mana]

[PRECEDENCE AVAILABLE]

[Claim Reward Before Completion?]

[YES / NO]

Zishan stared at the reward. Yes, that was exactly what he wanted. His Mana was already approaching zero.

’Yes.’

[ADVANCE CLAIM CONFIRMED]

[Processing Quest Rewards...]

[ADVANCE CLAIM SUCCESSFUL]

[+15 MANA]

The pressure behind his eyes eased almost immediately. ’Okay. That’s actually useful.’

[The System remains shocked whenever the Dumb Host recognizes the obvious.]

’I complimented you for one second.’

[An unfortunate lapse in judgment.]

Zishan ignored it and turned back toward the wounded soldier.

Maela was already working. Pale green Mana spread from the bands around her wrists and gathered around the injured man’s thigh. The light sank through the blood-soaked fabric near the wound before stopping around the broken shaft.

"Keep him still," she said.

Zishan placed one hand near the man’s knee without disturbing the wrap or the shaft. The soldier beside him held the other side.

The wounded man’s breathing had become faster.

"Can you hear me?" Zishan asked.

The man’s eyes moved toward him.

"Good. Stay with us until we alleviate your pain."

Maela shifted her hands, and the green light beneath the man’s skin brightened. "The bleeding is slowing."

"Is the shaft still holding anything closed?"

"Partially," Zishan replied, nodding, and before Maela could give him another order, he continued, "I’ll leave it there."

Maela gave him a brief look before returning her attention to the wound.

Zishan decided that was probably not the ideal moment to explain that he had spent less than a day in this world and therefore had absolutely no idea what magical healers considered obvious. After all, this was not Earth, so the mechanics here might be quite different from what he used to know.

The next several minutes passed quickly.

Maela controlled the damaged vessels around the wound while Zishan monitored the soldier’s responsiveness and made sure nobody moved the shaft before she was ready. Another assistant brought clean cloth and fresh water. The wounded man’s pulse remained weak, but it stopped getting worse.

Eventually, Maela’s shoulders relaxed.

"All right."

The green light around her hands dimmed.

The soldier remained pale, exhausted, and in considerable need of a better day, but his breathing had steadied.

[DING!]

[EMERGENCY QUEST COMPLETE]

[SETTLEMENT CONFIRMED]

Zishan looked at the notification.

’That’s it?’

[The Dumb Host has already taken his reward.]

’I know. I just expected congratulations.’

[Congratulations on fulfilling an obligation created by your own decision, Dumb Host!]

Zishan stared at the panel for a second.

’You somehow made saving a man’s life sound like paying a bill, you Dumb System!’

The wounded soldier survived, which Zishan was more than happy to count as a win.

Once the man was stable, however, Maela Thorn’s attention returned to him. She was one of the military healers assigned to rear command and apparently had a habit of watching people in silence until they started feeling uncomfortable.

After finishing with the soldier, Maela cleaned the blood from her hands in a basin and returned to the table where Zishan had been seated across from Commander Holtz. Someone had given him water in the meantime, which he appreciated so much. He even wondered how he was able to course through that battlefield and survive without getting thirsty.

’Was it because of Mana?’

Maela remained standing, looking at him. "Where did you learn field medicine?"

"From a school." Zishan took a drink. "One very far from here."

"What was it called?"

He lowered the cup.

Maela waited for his response.

"Still very far from here. I already know what it’s called. That’s the extent of what I could currently remember."

She kept looking at him.

Zishan sighed. "You’re not going to let that go, are you?"

Commander Holtz rubbed his forehead. "Walker."

Zishan sighed again. "I’m not trying to be suspicious. You wouldn’t recognize the school, and explaining why you wouldn’t recognize it would turn this conversation into something much longer than either of us wants."

[The Dumb Host has underestimated the number of questions his existence creates.]

’Nobody invited you into this conversation!’

Before Maela could continue, the ink-stained officer returned carrying another stack of papers and placed them on the table. "We still have to complete his recovery report."

Zishan stared at the stack and immediately shook his head. "No."

The officer paused. "No?"

"I survived forty-one soldiers."

The officer raised one brow. "What does that have to do with the report?"

"Forty-one armed soldiers," Zishan said, because apparently the additional detail mattered to him. "There should be some point where surviving that many people legally exempts you from paperwork."

Commander Holtz pulled out a chair and sat down. "There is no such exemption. I survived against a horde of beasts. And when I say horde, it’s around a thousand magic beasts. But I wasn’t exempted."

"Of course, there isn’t," Zishan said, sighing in defeat. "There’s also nothing I can do."

The report took nearly an hour, giving Zishan plenty of opportunities to learn more about the person whose place he had somehow taken in this world.

Somewhere in the middle of the report, the clerk mentioned that Zishan was a citizen of the Kingdom of Olmost, and Zishan looked up from the page.

"Olmost?" Zishan repeated.

The clerk nodded. "Yes."

His forehead creased. "Almost what?"

"Olmost."

"I know. Almost what?"

The clerk’s brow furrowed. "The Kingdom."

Zishan stared at him. "I’m asking what it almost is."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean? You can’t just name a country ’almost’ and stop there. Almost conquered? Almost wealthy? Almost a functioning government? Almost Boring? What?!"

Commander Holtz slowly lowered the report he had been reading.

The clerk looked increasingly confused. "It is Olmost."

Zishan paused and took a deep breath. His patience was running thin. "Spell it."

The clerk spelled it out. "O. L. M. O. S. T."

Zishan listened to the whole thing before staring at him. "Oh, fuck you."

"What?"

"Nothing." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Apparently, your country is one letter away from giving me trust issues."

[The Dumb Host has encountered Olmost. In fact, the soldiers from the battlefield already mentioned this while you were being chased.]

’Do not start an argument, Dumb System!’

Zishan looked toward Commander Holtz, hoping the man might explain why anyone had willingly named a Kingdom Olmost.

Commander Holtz continued reading another report.

’Great. I died for a cupcake and woke up in Olmost.’

[Accurate.]

Zishan ignored the System and looked back down at the report. According to the clerk, Olmost belonged to a western region called Sumwear.

He read the name twice before lifting his eyes.

"Where exactly is Olmost?"

The clerk leaned over the table and placed a finger on the map. "Sumwear."

Zishan glanced at his finger, then back at him. "Yes. I get that it’s somewhere. I’m asking where."

The clerk’s hand stopped. For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then, the man tapped the same place on the map. "Sumwear."

Zishan slowly lowered his cup. "You’re doing this on purpose."

"I’m showing you the region."

"What region?"

"Sumwear."

Zishan stared at him. The clerk stared back.

Zishan looked toward Commander Holtz. "You hear it too, right?"

The commander glanced up from the report. "Hear what?"

Zishan slowly looked back at the map. ’Who named these places?’

[Information unavailable.]

’I would like to file a complaint again.’

[No applicable process found.]

’I thought I could file a valid one!’

He leaned closer to the map instead and ignored the System. The Kingdom of Olmost occupied a long stretch of territory near several marked borders, with most of the current fighting concentrated around an area the officers called the Burnline.

"Fine. Olmost is in Sumwear, which somehow makes even less fucking sense." Zishan traced one of the lines with his eyes. "But who exactly are we fighting? Another kingdom?"

The clerk checked the report. "The Kingdom of Degenerates."

Zishan stopped. His cup hovered halfway to his mouth. "The Kingdom of what?"

"Degenerates."

Zishan looked at Commander Holtz, perhaps hoping for some indication that he had misheard.

The commander only waited for him to continue.

"And nobody here has a problem with that name?" he asked.

The clerk frowned. "Why would we have a problem with that name? Sir, are you joking?"

Zishan slowly set his cup down and admitted defeat. "Of course, it makes fucking sense to all of you."

He then covered part of his face with one hand. He felt like his soul, for some reason, had gone blurry all of a sudden. These names sounded like shit.

The clerk eventually explained that a Degenerate was an old regional term for a descendant line that had broken away from the house or dynasty it came from and continued independently. Several such houses had founded the kingdom generations ago, and the name had eventually become something they were proud of.

Zishan listened to the entire explanation before slapping a hand against his forehead. "You people really committed to it."

He paused and looked around him. "So calling someone a Degenerate here isn’t offensive?"

"Why would it be?" The clerk frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Zishan nodded slowly. "Useful information. I was about five seconds away from becoming internationally offensive. Lol."

"Lol?"

"Never mind."

Commander Holtz glanced over from the report. "Are you finished?"

Zishan looked at him. "You seriously don’t hear it?"

"Hear what?"

Zishan stared at him for a moment before giving up. "Forget it!"

By the time the paperwork was nearly finished, Zishan had learned enough from the questions, corrections, and scattered details in the report to understand what his role had been.

He had volunteered as an auxiliary rather than joining the professional forces, spending most of his service moving supplies, transporting casualties, reinforcing damaged positions, carrying messages, and helping wherever another pair of hands was needed.

Unfortunately, the conversation had also made it increasingly obvious that there were things Zishan Walker should have known and somehow did not.

Apparently, he had no parents at all. He wasn’t exactly an orphan, because he had a grandma back then who took care of him, but she passed away just recently, so he was left all alone.

’That’s quite sad.’

Maela brought something very important. "You really don’t remember any of this?"

Zishan hesitated. At this point, denying it would probably require explaining why he had needed someone to tell him the name of his own kingdom.

"Bits and pieces," he said.

Maela studied him for a moment. "Did you somehow hit your head during the collapse?"

Zishan hesitated. "Possibly?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"A lot was happening. I couldn’t really judge everything during that time."

His medical-support qualification had apparently never been completed because he had been transferred before the final assessment.

That part, at least, was useful.

"So what happens to me now?" he asked.

Commander Holtz glanced toward the map. "Your supply line was destroyed during the eastern collapse. The surviving auxiliaries are being reassigned."

Zishan had expected that much. "Where am I going?"

"That depends on where they need you."

Maela, who had been listening while the clerk finished the remaining paperwork, looked down at Zishan’s record again. "The medical station could use him."

Zishan turned toward her. "You’re quite quick with your decision on what will happen to me. Don’t I have a say in this? Where are my rights?"

Maela ignored his mumbling and just said, "We’re short on trained hands, and you knew what to do with that soldier."

"My record says I never finished the qualification."

"It also says you were transferred before the final assessment."

Zishan glanced at Commander Holtz, but the commander was already nodding.

"Medical station," the commander said.

Apparently, his opinion had not been required in the first place.

’Is this how fantasy worlds really work?’

Zishan rested an arm against the table with his head lowered. "I survived an enemy camp, crossed half the battlefield, and somehow the reward for all of that is employment."

’Damn it. I already did hospital duty once. Why am I getting assigned to it in another world too?’

"You were already employed," the commander said, giving him a long look.

"That doesn’t help at all, commander." Zishan dropped his forehead onto his folded arms.

The clerk finished writing and placed the report with the others.

"You’ll report to the medical station once we’re done here," the commander continued. "Maela can take you."

Zishan sighed. "Fine. If anyone asks, tell them I was reassigned because I impressed somebody."

Maela gave him a flat look. "We’re short-handed. You did not impress me."

Zishan looked away and said no more.

[DING!]

[The Dumb Host has successfully converted demonstrated competence into additional responsibilities.]

Zishan stared ahead. ’You make it sound like I did this to myself.’

[The System finds no evidence to the contrary.]

’I nearly died several times today and somehow this is still my fault?’

✦ ═〔 PRECEDENCE 〕═ ✦

[Status Update]

Mana: 22 / 60