Chapter 6 | Reincarnated as the Hero’s Childhood Friend, Then Saving the World

When Margarita opened her eyes again, she was the only one left in the tent.

Sunlight leaked through the cracks in the canvas, casting strips of light across her face. She squinted at the ceiling of the tent for a long while, smacking her lips as she processed the events of her dream from the night before.

She propped herself up on the straw, the coat that had been covering her sliding down to her waist. She rubbed a small, faded spot on the collar; it was Joshua’s clothes.

Listening to the commotion outside, she crawled to the entrance and pulled back the flap, squinting against the harsh sunlight.

Percy Village was a mess. The church tower had collapsed, houses were reduced to blackened frames, and rubble and broken wood were scattered everywhere.

Fortunately, the people were still there.

Several young men from the hunter squad were hauling salvagable items out of the ruins. Women had set up large pots on the edge of the clearing to boil water, and a group of children crouched under a tree, sharing a piece of dry flatbread. Renard stood in the center of the clearing with his left arm wrapped in cloth, talking to a few other hunters.

Joshua was there, too. He was crouching by a pot, adding firewood to the flames. His black hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing several fresh scrapes on his forearms. As he finished adding a log, he looked up and caught sight of Margarita standing at the tent entrance.

He stood up, nearly tripping over the woodpile at his feet.

“You’re awake,” he said, hurrying over.

Margarita watched him as several sets of eyes from across the clearing turned toward them.

“Yeah, I’m awake,” she replied, her voice still holding the soft, sweet huskiness of someone who had just woken up. “I’m sorry for making everyone worry.”

Joshua paused, the memory of her faint “Quiet” from the night before still echoing in his ears.

Margarita had already stepped past him toward the pot, using a support pole of the tent for balance. She truly did look as though she had only just regained consciousness. When she reached the pot, the woman pouring water into it looked up, nearly dropping her wooden ladle.

“Margarita!”

The woman dropped the ladle and rushed over in three quick steps, grabbing Margarita’s arms to look her over. She had white hair just like Margarita’s, tied loosely behind her head with an old cloth strip, and dark circles under her eyes. However, her blue eyes were incredibly bright as she checked Margarita over from side to side, as if confirming her reality.

“Are you alright? Does anything hurt? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you have any idea what happened last night…”

“Mom,” Margarita called out softly, a hint of helplessness in her smile. “I’m fine. I just had a long sleep. Don't worry anymore.”

Her mother wasn't listening. She pressed her hands onto Margarita’s shoulders, making her sit on a nearby stone, before turning back to the pot to scoop some porridge. she filled a large bowl to the brim and pressed it into Margarita’s hands.

Margarita looked down at the overflowing bowl of porridge, then looked up at her mother with a softer smile. “Thank you, Mom.”

Margarita held the bowl with both hands, crouching by the fire to eat slowly. Several villagers gathered around to ask how she was feeling; she answered each one gently, telling them she was fine and thanking them for their concern. When someone asked about the events at the church, she simply said she had been hiding and hadn't seen anything.

By the time the crowd dispersed, Margarita had finished her porridge. The smile on her face faded slightly. Joshua leaned in closer and lowered his voice.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m alive,” Margarita whispered back. “But my legs are still a bit weak.”

Joshua nodded. He looked around to make sure no one was paying attention before whispering another question. “Last night… at the church… that pink light… was that you?”

Margarita’s hand holding the bowl stiffened. She looked up at Joshua, remaining silent for a few seconds.

“How much did you see?”

“Everything,” Joshua said. “I started running back the moment you fell from the church roof. Those lights, that hand, and that final pillar of light… I saw all of it.”

Hey, I remember telling you not to come over.

“Joshua,” Margarita stared at him for a moment. “Only you know about this. Don't tell anyone. If Renard asks, say you don't know. If the villagers ask, say you didn't see anything. Understand?”

Joshua looked at her. “Why?”

“Because I don't want to be treated like a monster,” Margarita said, looking back down at her empty bowl. “And I don't want to be some kind of savior from a prophecy. I’m just an ordinary person. Last night was an… accident. I won't use it carelessly again.”

She paused, then looked back at Joshua. “You have to keep my secret.”

Joshua nodded. “Okay.”

Margarita breathed a sigh of relief and set down the empty bowl. Looking at Joshua’s serious expression, her eyes suddenly crinkled into crescents. “If you tell anyone, I’ll tell the village you were still wetting the bed at twelve.”

Joshua’s face flushed bright red instantly. “I was not!”

“Hehehe~” Margarita laughed like a little fox as she picked up her bowl and walked back to get more porridge.

That afternoon, Renard called the two of them to the edge of the woods. The old hunter’s left arm was in a sling, and his complexion was much worse than the day before, but his voice was still loud. He spread out a leather map marked with several routes in charcoal.

“Himlabacken, the City of Heaven.” Renard pointed to a circle in the center of the map. “It’s the largest city on the continent and the capital of humanity. It’s about a twenty-day journey from here. Both of you are going.”

Joshua was stunned. “Both of us?”

“The Capital Academy has a Swordsmanship Department and a Magic Department.” Renard looked up at Margarita, his gaze lingering on her face. Margarita kept her head lowered slightly, her hands folded in front of her, looking every bit the quiet, obedient girl.

“She will enter the Magic Department.”

Margarita’s shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly. She didn't look up, her voice remaining soft. “Captain, I was hiding in the church last night. I don't know anything.”

“Margarita.” The old hunter reached out and ruffled her hair. “Everyone has their secrets. We watched you two grow up. No matter what, you are both children of Percy Village.”

Margarita opened her mouth, suddenly feeling a tightness in her throat.

Renard picked up two letters from the table and said, “The professor in the Swordsmanship Department at the Capital Academy is named Glion. He’s an old acquaintance from my mercenary days. Take these letters to him; he’ll help you with the enrollment process.”

He handed a letter to each of them, then gave a sword and a shortbow to Joshua. Finally, he fished a small cloth pouch out of his pocket and tossed it to Margarita. Inside the pouch were several shriveled herbal roots that smelled bitter.

“Chew on those during the trip. Once you get to the academy, find a proper apothecary to take a look at you,” Renard said.

Margarita tucked the pouch away and nodded.

That night, Margarita lay in the tent, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. She rolled onto her side and saw Joshua sitting outside the entrance with his back to her, polishing his new sword in the moonlight. She watched him for a while before turning back over and pulling the coat over her head.

The next day, they set off before dawn. Before leaving the tent, Margarita said her goodbyes to a few early-rising villagers. Her mother stood at the tent entrance, staying away from the crowd, just watching from a distance.

Margarita walked over to her.

“Mom, I’m leaving.”

Her mother reached out to straighten Margarita’s collar, then tucked a few stray strands of white hair behind her ear. Her hand lingered on Margarita’s cheek for a moment, her palm feeling very warm.

“Be careful on the road,” her mother said. “Remember to write once you get there.”

“I will.”

“Remember to chew those herbal roots. Don’t skip them just because they're bitter.”

“Okay.”

Her mother looked at her for a long moment before suddenly pulling her into a tight hug.

“Go on then,” her mother said.

Joshua waited for her at the edge of the woods after saying goodbye to his own parents. After they had walked for about fifteen minutes and were certain the village was out of sight, Margarita’s stiff back slumped, and she let out a long breath. Her quiet, demure steps returned to a normal stride as she began to skip along ahead of Joshua.

Joshua stared at her for quite a while.

“What are you looking at?” Margarita asked, knowing he was watching even without turning around.

“No… nothing.” Joshua looked away. After a moment, he couldn't help but speak up. “I feel like… you’re different than before.”

“Oh?”

“You used to smile at everyone, but that smile… it felt a bit fake. Like you weren't actually happy.” Joshua scratched his head, searching for the right words. “But now I know. Those drills, the traps in the village, and that gun… if it weren't for you, the casualties from this raid would have been much higher.”