Chapter 38: Aftermath

“Ugh…” Nausea and lethargy weighed on Elidranthia as she walked past the field hospital. Too many were injured—lacerations from monster claws, poison from fangs, bodies mangled beyond repair, half-eaten by the hungry horde.

Eli was a level 6 mage, true, but far from omnipotent. Without the proper training and knowledge from the Mage Union, she had to burn more mana than her peers to heal a single soldier. She had managed to save everyone, yet the effort left her drained and collapsed. Because of that, she had missed the victory celebration at dawn.

“Eli, are you okay? I heard you collapsed from mana exhaustion yesterday.” The count asked during breakfast. He had prepared a lavish meal for her daughter: a steak drizzled with oyster sauce.

“Ugh… I’m still dizzy.” Eli nursed her head during breakfast. Mana exhaustion caused lethargy, which could cause nausea and even fever.

“I see. You’ll be excused from lessons today and tomorrow. Rest in your bed,” the count said.

“Eh, but at the very least, I want to tend to the soldiers. I didn’t fully heal them yesterday.”

“That’s final. None died. That’s more than we could ask of a single child mage. Anything more and they’ll grow spoiled. That applies to you as well, Alicia—you’re excused from wall defense for a week.”

“...Yes, Milord.” Alicia bowed. She wondered at the count’s reasoning, but her etiquette lessons dictated she must not oppose someone of higher rank.

Elidranthia, however, spoke out. “Father, shouldn’t we work harder now, more than ever? Many soldiers were injured yesterday. I’m sure Alicia could help reduce casualties if another stampede occurs.”

“...This is final. Rest,” the count said.

He didn’t truly mean those words. He would call on his daughters again if things turned dire, but only as a last resort. Overworking them would not only harm their future but also Shadowstep’s reputation. If the knights and people grew dependent on Alicia’s and Elidranthia’s magic, what would happen when the girls departed for the royal academy next year? For six years, they would be gone, learning and growing. The count could not keep them sheltered in Shadowstep forever.

After dismissing his little ruffians to their beds, Count Shadowstep summoned Rodrique to his office. The numbers didn’t lie: despite two consecutive stampedes, not a single death had been recorded.

“From the reports, about fifty soldiers were injured. Ten of them suffered permanent injuries. We can expect thirty knights to return to duty within a week, while the remaining ten will need two or three months of recuperation.”

“I see. All in all, that’s a good outcome, right?” Count Shadowstep sighed. Losing ten knights was painful, especially for a frontier city where danger was constant, but the toll was less than ten percent of the city’s defense. A loss, yes—but a manageable one.

“Yes, considering this was a night stampede, we fared well. Without Alicia supplying mana for weapons and Elidranthia healing the wounded, the casualties would have been much worse. We might even have lost civilians.”

“Let’s tour the barracks. I want to see firsthand how our troops are faring. Ah—Elena, take Eli around the town. Have her pick up some luxury goods, jewels or dresses. Clothes are hard to make, but I want to introduce her to my barons and viscounts. They should see that Count Shadowstep is no longer just a rural lord, but a rising noble.” The count rose from his chair and left the office. After such a battle, congratulations were in order, and he still needed to address the soldiers who had been permanently injured in service.

In other regions, such men were often dismissed with four years of salary upfront. Shadowstep did things differently. He gave them a choice: either continue to work as clerks or take severance pay. He intended to guarantee their livelihoods even after they were disabled. They had defended the territory with their lives—they deserved no less.

Alas, there is no such thing as a military pension in Althemer, and Shadowstep couldn’t give them one even if he wanted to. his territory was poor.

Meanwhile, with Eli and Alicia excused from duty, they spent their off day at a city restaurant, enjoying fruit juice and cakes with their pets. Despite the outing, Alicia still wore her maid uniform—it was, after all, her best set of clothes. But that was going to change today.

The town itself was serene. People carried on with their daily routines: laborers hauling loads, merchants calling their wares in the square, housewives chatting on the streets. It was almost as if the stampede yesterday had been nothing but a bad dream.

“I wonder if the seamstress is open. I really need more clothes than just this maid uniform,” Alicia said across the table, lazily nibbling at the croissant the restaurant had served her. The pleasant aroma of imported chamomile tea lingered in the air.

Eli glanced at her lazy maid and found herself agreeing. Alicia needed new clothes. She was grateful Alicia was a reincarnated soul; most peasants would never dare sit across from a noble like Eli. The proof was right in front of her: three tables beside her sat empty, while two knights stood behind her like looming shadows. Even Elena, her actual maid, hadn’t dared to take a seat.

Elena, in fact, had already scolded Alicia for her rudeness, but Alicia simply argued that today was her day off, and she wasn’t obliged to act like a maid. She even promised Elena that once she was back “on the clock,” she would behave as expected. Elidranthia sided with Alicia, forcing Elena to back down—though she still warned Alicia never to try that with other nobles. Regardless of the circumstances, one must always show proper respect.

After lunch, came the clothes. They didn’t wander far as they were only three seamstresses in town, and only one of them was deemed to have the skill to serve nobility. Thus, the group beelined toward the store. Elena wondered whether she sld ask for a carriage, but Eli wanted to walk, to view the town. She must ascertain how the battle yesterday had affected the masses.

“Greetings, Milady. What may this humble servant do for you today?” the seamstress asked. While there were several clothes displayed on the store shelves, clothes for nobility must be custom made.

“I desire clothes worthy of my maid, Alicia. Can you make them?” Eli asked, practicing her etiquette. She was soon interrupted by her maid, who rambled about fashion.

“I want a dress!” Alicia burst out. “A summer dress—and then a winter one, with a jacket and stockings!” She was excited. She might have been male in her previous life, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to dress up. Let’s be real: gacha game skins sell like hotcakes for a reason. Men love seeing pretty girls in pretty outfits. That was a fact!

Alas, disappointment struck quickly. Alicia realized she had no idea what her future dresses would look like. In this rural town, there were no display pieces, no sample mannequins—just the seamstress’s word.

“Lady Elidranthia, I believe you also need a new dress,” Elena said.

“I still have twenty dresses in my wardrobe, right? They all still fit.” Eli said. Her voice dropped as she realized she hadn’t grown much in the past year.

“That’s unacceptable, Milady. You are the first mage from Shadowstep. Wearing clothes over a year old would reflect badly on your father. People will think you’re underpaid as a mage. A mage must live luxuriously.”

“That’s… understandable. But why are you the one saying this? You’re not a mage, yet you’re urging me to live extravagantly? is that okay?” Eli asked, hesitating. She had always believed she should live humbly, like the rich people on Earth who wore plain clothes despite their fortunes. But here, Elena urged her to flaunt her wealth?

“Yes! Mages are our heroes. If they appear poor, it damages our reputation as a whole! And you’re level six—the highest Shadowstep has ever seen! We can’t let you live like a villager. Even Alicia gets the same treatment! She demanded it herself, though.”

“I see…”

Elena knew how to persuade her mistress. Unlike other nobles, Eli was too self-conscious and taciturn. She disliked only her unsettling eyes, but nothing more. Many even said she had a better attitude than Alicia.

Humility might be a virtue for nobles, but Eli was different. If she appeared in secondhand or outdated clothes, people would blame Shadowstep for neglecting their mage. That was why the family had ordered Elena to make sure she indulged in some luxury.

With Alicia’s carefree spending as a contrast, Elena had no trouble pressing her point. She slipped two gold coins to the seamstress, instructing her to spare no effort and send the receipt to the manor. Mission accomplished.

“Thank you for your patronage,” the seamstress said, grinning as she took Alicia and Elidranthia’s measurements.

“Let’s go buy jewelry next, Milady.”

“Eh? Jewelry? Why?”

“A woman of your status should have at least two or three pairs of earrings and necklaces. Perhaps bracelets as well.”

“That sounds gaudy. Jewelry is expensive, isn’t it? Should we even buy any? Do we even have a jeweler in Shadowstep?”

“Don’t worry. All rich ladies wear them once they come of age. Naturally, mages count as rich ladies. Since we don’t have jewelers here, we’ll have to buy from a store elsewhere. Alicia’s friend should know one.”

“Hm… I wonder…” Elidranthia frowned, unconvinced. Should she really spend money on trinkets when her citizens lived in wooden huts and crumbling stone houses? They had just survived a terrible stampede. Wouldn’t that gold be better spent on bread for the hungry, or for the families of those injured in battle, or for more traps and tools to defend the city?

Her thoughts broke when she noticed a drunk man slumped on the roadside, surrounded by empty bottles. At first she was ready to ignore him—there were always people like this in every era, those who didn’t care while others struggled. But then she saw the crutches, and the fresh stumps where his legs had been. Perhaps he was one of yesterday’s casualties, drowning his grief in alcohol.

“Blergh! Hah? What are you staring at? You wanna have a go at me?” the drunkard barked, staggering upright with a bottle in hand.

Eli froze, at a loss for words. Was this man looking for death? He didn’t look like an assassin—just a broken soul lashing out.

“Watch it, Bernard. One step closer and we’ll remove you by force.” The two soldiers behind Eli drew their blades.

Eli snapped out of her thoughts of jewelry. This wasn’t about shopping anymore—this was a crisis. Her guard would cut him down if he took another step. He might be a drunk, but she couldn’t allow someone to be cut down in the street. That wasn’t how she wanted to rule.

“Wait. Calm down. Tell me your troubles. Drinking like this in broad daylight can’t be healthy.”

“Milady, we should keep our distance. He’s unstable,” one knight warned.

“Hah? What do you know? Mages don’t understand the suffering of us common folk!” Bernard roared, waving his bottle. “Look at this leg! What can I do without legs? I can’t fight, I can’t work—I’m ruined!”

He staggered upright on his crutches, bottle raised high.

“Bernard, are you serious?” the knights barked, blades poised. To them, all knights were brothers—but now their duty was to protect Eli, no matter who stood against her.

Bernard lurched toward her, but his crutches slipped, sending him face first to the ground in a heap. A few moments of silence ensued as he lay unconscious before her feet.

Eli stared at him, pity rising in her chest. So broken, so helpless. Perhaps she could help him. She had to try.