4
—The man sprawled across the hard ground remained still.
He wasn’t dead, nor was he sleeping. He was merely lying there, eyes closed, carefully regulating his breathing, sorting his thoughts.
Building and composing, building and composing…
“Hey, you alive?”
“…Yeah, I’m alive.”
Opening his eyes at the voice above, Todd saw a familiar face. Upside down, it looked just as rough as it did right side up. The man had a terrible nosebleed, but the vibrant crimson seemed more a badge of manliness than anything else.
“What’s with the nosebleed? Did you take one to the face?”
“Piss off. It’s just a little blood in my nose, so leave it alone,” the man replied, blowing a clot of blood out with an irritated snort.
“So touchy.” Todd chuckled lightly. “…What about them?”
“They got past us and ran off after they dropped you. You…should do something about that thing in your side. Just looking at it hurts.”
“‘That thing’? …Oh, this?”
Todd scratched his head as he sat up, glancing at the thick arrow embedded deep in his side. It had struck just below his heart—any higher, and it would have killed him outright.
It was a wound that could have cost him his life, but Todd barely reacted to it. Neither the sight of the arrow nor the fact that it had hit him seemed to bother him much.
“It doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks. It’ll just make moving around harder for a while.”
“Dumbass, who cares how you feel about it? I’m saying it hurts me to look at it. Pull it out already.” Jamal grimaced.
“So rough on an injured man… Ahh.”
With a sigh, Todd grabbed the arrow. The trick with these sorts of wounds was to remove the arrow before the flesh compressed around it. Fortunately, it hadn’t been in long. With a sharp tug, he pulled it free.
He stuffed a torn piece of cloth into the injury to stop the bleeding.
“There, arrow’s out like you wanted. What now?”
“If it’s bad, fall back and rest. I’ll take a group, chase them down, and smash ’em. Show ’em who the prey is.”
“…I’m telling you, that’s a bad play, Jamal.”
“What?”
Todd raised a hand to stop Jamal’s explanation of his plan. He understood the desire for revenge and the urge to chase down a fleeing enemy, but such rashness only invited disaster.
“Think about it. They just waltzed into Guaral. Given what they did, they had to know we’d be in the city.”
“…Unless they’re just dumbasses not thinking ahead,” Jamal muttered skeptically.
“They planned it. Even set up an ambush outside the city.”
Jamal glanced at the arrow Todd had pulled from his side, his expression darkening. A skilled fighter like Jamal could gauge the force and precision behind the shot, and he realized the same thing Todd had.
“In that case, they were trying to…!”
“Lure soldiers out of the city to hunt them. If we attacked with all our forces, it’d be one thing, but sending a small squad after them? That’s playing right into their hands. So who’s the prey here?”
“…”
Jamal gritted his teeth, glaring in the direction their opponents had fled. Rage boiled within him, threatening to take over.
Todd didn’t share that anger. What he felt was closer to wonder. Using himself as bait to draw out an enemy was a daring tactic—one that required nerve and resourcefulness.
He’s a tough one, all right. A real child of war, Todd thought to himself, staring in the same direction as Jamal. “I really messed up by not finishing him off.”
“Well,” Todd continued, taking a deep breath, “there’ll be another chance to get them back. They’ll definitely come again.”
“I won’t have any mercy when they do,” Jamal growled quietly, his rage tempered but not extinguished.
Todd nodded silently in agreement. The next step was to assess their losses and prepare for what came next.
“Jamal.”
“Yeah? …What’s with the arms?”
Todd was still sitting on the ground, legs splayed, holding his arms up toward Jamal.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Todd cocked his head. “Carry me.”
“Just die out here alone!” Jamal snapped.
Todd shrugged, unfazed by the heartless retort.
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