Avia walked into the tent and continuously pulled items out of the cloth bag she carried.
Herbal soap, dried flower bouquets, essential oils, skin balms, body lotion...
Tyr: “...”
Was her bag some kind of Doraemon's pocket?
If Tyr remembered correctly, this tent and the utensils Avia used for cooking had also been pulled out of this very bag, hadn't they?
Tyr looked at the items around him, then at the cloth bag in front of Avia.
Could this little cloth bag really hold so many things?
He was absolutely certain that this bag was not any kind of spatial artifact.
“Young Master, would you like to bathe tonight?” Avia asked. Before he knew it, she had already neatly arranged all the toiletries in a row.
“Yes.”
Tyr nodded. Since the option was available, he had no reason to refuse.
Stripping off his clothes, Tyr climbed into the wooden tub.
As the warm water washed over his skin, a wave of comfort washed over him. A tingling sensation spread from every corner of his body, eventually gathering at his scalp.
“Phew... so comfortable.”
...
Night fell, and the entire camp fell into a deep silence.
“Hmph—”
Inside the tent, Tyr suddenly snapped his eyes open and bolted upright from under his blanket.
“Young Master, is something the matter?” Avia's voice drifted in from outside the tent.
“It's nothing. Just a nightmare,” Tyr replied, lying back down. Of course, he hadn't actually had a nightmare; that voice had simply echoed in his mind once again.
To be precise, this was already the eighth time he had been woken up by that voice tonight.
Every single time Tyr woke up, the voice would abruptly vanish. Even when he deployed his divine sense, he couldn't detect a thing.
Being woken up repeatedly was starting to make Tyr feel quite irritated.
It kept saying, “Fellow countryman, come find me,” over and over again.
But where the fuck are you? Tell me!
I was sleeping perfectly fine, and you wake me up. Then when I wake up and ask where you are, you go dead silent.
Isn't this a fucking public nuisance?
“Are you asleep? If you're asleep, wake up and go back to sleep!”
You fucking want to be Su Shi, but I sure as hell don't want to be Zhang Huaimin!
Tyr decided that if he ever managed to find this person, he would definitely have Avia beat the crap out of this bastard first to vent his frustration.
Fine, I won't sleep. I'll just wait for your next message and see if you can actually make some sense.
And so, Tyr stared wide-eyed at the ceiling of the tent, keeping his divine sense active to monitor his surroundings, waiting at any moment for the voice to reappear.
Yet, after waiting for nearly two hours, nothing but the chirping of various insects reached his ears.
Seeing that dawn was drawing near, Tyr figured the other party probably wouldn't contact him again tonight. His eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, so he simply closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
But not long after Tyr had fallen asleep, that voice rang out once more.
【Fellow countryman, come find me.】
Tyr: What the actual fuck...
...
The next morning.
Tyr carried a towel and a toothbrush cup, brushing his teeth by the stream.
“Brother Tyr, did you not sleep well last night?” Sevira asked as soon as she walked over, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, which were heavily bloodshot.
“I had a bit of insomnia last night.”
Spitting out the foam, Tyr raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.
In all his time at the Sword Prison, this was the first time he felt mentally exhausted—and it wasn't because of the brutal training, but rather because of some asshole disturbing his sleep in the middle of the night.
Under normal circumstances, even staying up all night wouldn't leave Tyr looking like this.
But that voice kept appearing right after he fell asleep. Being jolted awake before getting enough rest was far more agonizing than simply staying awake.
On top of that, he had been woken up repeatedly throughout the night. Tyr felt completely drained.
If his father, Lanier, ever found out about this, he would definitely laugh so hard he'd slam the table.
“Young Master, are you really alright?” When Tyr returned to the camp, Avia asked with concern upon seeing his pale face.
“I'm fine. Just not used to sleeping in a new place. I had a bit of insomnia.”
Tyr shook his head, taking the fish soup and fruit Avia had prepared.
He had gone out to gather this fruit yesterday after obtaining his divine sense. As long as they completed their daily training tasks, the instructors didn't care what they did in their free time.
Avia nodded thoughtfully. The young master did seem to have this habit. She remembered that on his first night at the Sword Prison, he had also tossed and turned all night.
“Young Master Tyr, perhaps we should have the healing mage, Aetheline, cast a refreshing spell on you.”
This excursion was originally part of his treatment, so the White Mages from the Sword Prison naturally accompanied them.
“Alright.”
Tyr nodded. His head really did feel awful right now. If nothing unexpected happened today, there would definitely be more tasks, likely an advanced version of yesterday's.
If possible, he naturally wanted to keep himself in peak condition. He had no desire to find out what kind of punishment awaited those who failed to complete their tasks on time.
A moment later, Aetheline was called over by Avia.
“Young Master Tyr, you don't look very well,” Aetheline said as she walked over, asking with slight surprise upon seeing Tyr's exhausted face.
“I'm a bit of a sensitive sleeper. Moving to a new environment suddenly gave me a bout of insomnia last night.”
Tyr repeated the same excuse.
“I see. That's terrible.”
Although Aetheline said this, a tiny sliver of secret glee flashed in her heart.
The White Mages didn't need to train. During the day, they stayed in the camp, researching magic and preparing treatment plans for the reserves.
Yesterday, when Tyr entered the Flash of Insight state, the White Mages in the camp had witnessed it clear as day.
As a once-in-a-century genius of the White Magic Tower, she had once again felt a deep sense of frustration.
Is this what a true genius is like?
Ever since she came to the Sword Prison to serve as Tyr's healing mage, she had been thoroughly demoralized.
For a moment, Aetheline even wondered if her magic mentor had only praised her as a once-in-a-century magic genius just to make her happy.
Ohoho, so there are things you aren't good at either, Young Master?
However, as soon as this petty joy surfaced, Aetheline quickly suppressed it.
Aetheline, what on earth are you thinking? You are a healing mage. How can you be wishing for your patient to feel unwell? That's so wrong of you.
Tyr sat on the log opposite her, looking at Aetheline with a strange expression.
Although Aetheline was only thinking to herself, Tyr, with his Innate Sword Heart, easily captured her emotional shifts.
Why did this girl suddenly get happy, and then suddenly look so embarrassed?
Rate on N.U.
