Surviving on the Northern Front with Gukbap

Encounter (2)

Chijik.

As shards of bluish flame appeared,

Chijijik.

A childhood memory resurfaced.

― Mom, I have a question.

― What is it?

― Why is the gas flame blue?

It was a time when everything in the kitchen fascinated me,

and my mom would always answer with a smile.

― I don't know. Look it up on the internet.

I searched immediately.

The red flame, which was the typical image of "fire" in our minds, was actually the weakest.

As fire got hotter, it changed from red to yellow, to white, and then to blue.

There were further explanations below about complete and incomplete combustion,

but I couldn't have cared less.

'So, blue flame is the strongest.'

I just remembered that a blue flame is twice as hot as a red one,

that it's the strongest among flames,

and that's why the gas stove burns blue.

That was all I really remembered.

And yet,

how long had it been since I last saw a blue flame?

The first time since coming to this world, a beautiful colored flame,

blooming right before my eyes.

Chijijijik.

No, perhaps "spark" would be more accurate than "flame".

"Kirik?"

Between the charging impet and myself, blue sparks suddenly burst out,

then grew into a lump in an instant.

Fwarrrrk!

And before I could even register it,

Puhbububung!

Puhpung!

The flame exploded, and the shockwave sent me tumbling backwards.

A fierce wave of heat wrapped around my body,

and as I lifted my head to assess the situation,

"?!"

I saw impets that had been completely charred, now reduced to lumps of ash.

Only their ashen forms indicated they had ever been impets at all.

In the blink of an eye, over a dozen impets had died.

'Damn.'

It was a spell I saw for the first time since coming to this world.

Even more, it was a non-chant spell with no incantation or magic array.

'At least level 5, no, 5th-circle.'

It meant a powerful person was nearby who could kill multiple low-rank monsters without breaking a sweat.

At that moment,

"I'll... get rid... of it."

A frail woman's voice came from behind me.

Turning around,

"End... the war... I'll... end..."

The blindfolded woman, with her pale violet hair streaming behind her, was reaching her left hand toward me—

Thud.

And then she collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

"?? ...?"

Stillness settled in an instant.

Damn. What just happened?

'Was it her?'

It seemed obvious this was the blindfolded woman's doing.

There was no one else nearby but her and me.

'She saved me.'

I was about to become an impet's dinner, but the blindfolded woman rescued me.

Now, though, the woman who saved me was collapsing and dying herself.

As I took a step toward her to check,

And what terrible luck,

the bard's final words echoed in my head like an auditory hallucination.

― Adventurer, you're not thinking of saving her, are you?"

Even dead, the man was annoying.

Yeah. I'm trying to save her. So what?

"Haha."

In that moment, I let out a hollow laugh at my own double standard.

It hadn't bothered me at all when the bard died,

but when the blindfolded woman was dying, I tried to save her. Why?

Was it because she saved my life?

'Why did I instinctively try to save her?'

Because Naba is a child,

and the blindfolded woman is... a woman?

Is that why I got soft-hearted?

'I need to get stronger.'

How long would these damnably weak modern-day values cling to me?

As I was pondering such nonsense,

this time, my father's voice tickled my ears.

― Everyone needs help at some point. So if you received help, don't forget to return the favor.

He used to say this himself every holiday as he would personally pack the meat gifts.

― Return the help you received, and be the kind of person who can help others anytime, anywhere.

Damn it.

I miss him.

I miss him so much.

My father's warm smile,

my mother's gentle voice.

I want to see them. I want desperately to go home.

Back to the world where I belonged.

Back to Korea, where my parents' store was.

And so I remembered.

'Why did I fight so desperately to survive under Burt? Remember.'

Why did I?

The first reason was simply that I didn't want to die—I wanted to live.

But more than that, on a grander scale,

'I endured so that one day I could return to my original world.'

That's why I wanted to live.

But to survive,

to preserve my sanity and live on,

I had to kill the heart of a modern person and learn the ways of the medieval world.

That was the only way to withstand it without falling apart.

However,

'But to ignore the person who saved my life, survive, and then return to my world—what would that mean?'

That would be an empty shell.

That wouldn't be the real me.

To survive in this damn medieval fantasy, Ian's strong spirit was necessary,

But that didn't mean I should completely kill the heart of modern-day Han Chul Lee.

Because someday,

'I will return to the world I originally lived in.'

So protect myself.

I have to guard my own true heart.

― If you received help, don't forget to return the favor.

Yes, father.

I will. Don't worry.

I put the kitchen knife away and approached the woman.

She still had no pulse.

And her breathing...

'It's even weaker than before.'

She was dying.

But I had no potion that could save a dying person,

and of course, I didn't have a holy magic scroll either.

That meant the only thing I could do was practice CPR—cardio-pulmonary resuscitation—that I'd learned through modern medicine.

Would it even work?

'No. Don't think like that. Just focus on saving her.'

I recalled the CPR training I'd received in the military.

Before doing chest compressions, you're supposed to call for help,

but there wasn't a soul around.

'More likely there are monsters nearby instead.'

I needed to leave this spot and find somewhere suitable for camping.

As soon as that thought occurred to me, I opened my backpack and ate a rice ball, swallowing it quickly.

〈 Slightly increases strength. 〉

〈 Consuming the complete Korean dish 'rice ball' grants a bonus effect. 〉

〈 The increased strength will not decrease. (30 min) 〉

Just as I hoped, the rice ball had the same effect as a bowl of rice. What a relief.

I lifted the woman over my shoulder and started running.

The strength buff certainly made things easier,

but at the same time, I remembered something I regretted.

'Next time, I should make sugar candies for travel.'

A focus or stamina buff would come in handy in situations like this.

After running for a bit,

I spotted a large flat rock showing signs of a traveler's campsite.

'For now, over there.'

I immediately laid the blindfolded woman flat on the smooth surface and checked her breathing.

It was even weaker than before.

I tried to check her eye focus, so I lifted up her blindfold—

"What the...?"

I barely suppressed a shriek.

Her eyelids had been sewn shut with thread.

'Is she blind? Even so, this is a bit much.'

No. Now's not the time for meaningless distractions.

As I covered her eye with the patch again, repulsed by the sight,

"...... Damn it."

Her breathing simply stopped.

At the same moment, an undulating energy began flowing from her mouth and nose.

Mana was leaking out.

'So she's finally dead.'

The tension built up inside me was about to drain away,

when I could almost hear the bard's mocking laughter.

See? I told you you wouldn't be able to save her anyway.

"......"

Of course, the bard had never actually said anything like that when alive.

But that's the feeling I got,

and I steeled my resolve again.

Stubbornness flared up.

Because I didn't want to lose to that bastard bard.

'Let's do everything I can.'

Even if the heart stops briefly, cPR can bring them back, or so I've heard.

So just do it.

I got into the CPR position I remembered from the army.

I overlapped my hands, placing them above her solar plexus, and began chest compressions.

Normally you're supposed to do this until rescue arrives,

but there's no such thing here.

So I'd just keep going until she revived, or until I collapsed.

'Please.'

Live.

If you live, at least I won't hear that damn bard's mocking laughter.

"Huff, huff."

My breathing grew rough.

The strength buff from the rice ball seemed to have worn off already.

Sweat dripped down from my chin.

But,

"Haah... haah..."

No matter how many times I repeated the heart- and lung-bursting compressions, the blindfolded woman's breathing did not return.

"......"

This infuriated me.

If things stayed like this, the bard bastard would win.

All my effort would be for nothing.

Thump!

I made a final desperate attempt, pouring my anger into it.

I raised my fist high and slammed it down toward the woman's heart.

Thump!

Trying to deliver an even stronger shock.

"Get up."

Thump!

"Get up!"

I don't care who you are or what you do.

I just don't want my choice to have been for nothing,

"......"

So—

"Get up, please!"

Thump, thump!

.

.

Thud!

.

.

.

"Huhhhh!"

The blindfolded woman's body twisted as she suddenly drew a huge gasp of breath.

"!"

The flow of mana that had been leaking from her mouth and nose stopped.

Slap, slap.

I slapped the woman's cheeks and shouted.

"Hey! Are you awake? Hey!"

"Uuuhh."

But she only made groaning noises, unable to regain consciousness.

She'd started breathing again, but still looked dangerously weak.

"Co... Co... ld..."

"Hey! Are you awake? Hey!!"

But the woman just kept on taking shallow breaths.

So... feeble.

"Damn it, seriously!"

I took off my robe and covered her with it,

then found some firewood nearby and built a campfire.

And,

and what else could I do?

Was there anything else that might save her?

'Ah!'

Let's make rice porridge.

It grants a stamina regen buff as a bonus effect.

And let's pound some garlic into it for body-temperature buff.

I immediately took out a pot, poured in water from my canteen,

and dumped in a rice ball, crushing it up by hand.

Not exactly sanitary, but that couldn't be helped at this point.

Then I bought some garlic from [shop window] and smashed it with the handle of the kitchen knife before tossing it in.

I placed the whole pot over the campfire.

It boiled furiously.

With a long stick of firewood, I stirred the contents inside.

Using the stick, I gently slid the pot off the fire.

The log almost burned up, and the pot nearly caught fire, but I managed somehow.

'Is this even considered rice porridge?'

I worried about it for a moment,

but even apart from any buffs, feeding her something warm was surely the right thing.

I scooped up porridge with a wooden spoon, blew on it, and brought it to the woman's mouth.

Twisting her head this way and that, I managed to get her to swallow.

I repeated this process.

With the sound of the campfire burning,

and the bard's mocking laughter echoing in my head as background music,

I kept feeding her without rest.

After a while,

strength returned to the woman's breathing.

Little by little.

'Did it work?'

I'd done everything I could.

I sat by the campfire and looked at her.

Wearing ordinary clothes in the middle of this frozen winter.

She must have relied on her own magic.

'Magic of fire, huh.'

That brought to mind something the general store owner said yesterday.

She'd mentioned that a mage attacked the spirit stone quarry a few days ago, leaving it in ruins.

Could this woman be that mage?

Her appearance didn't give me any clues.

Even remembering what she muttered before collapsing, it didn't fit.

'She said she'd end the war.'

It doesn't make sense.

In Belkhazium, all sorts of wars had broken out.

Not only between nations,

but frequent small wars between nobles,

larger wars between humans and other races,

and at the largest scale, the entire continent against the demonkin in all-out war.

'The demonkin wars were the worst.'

By modern standards, these medieval people were no better than savages.

They conducted wars however they pleased.

'In the game, I used to look for battlefields just to level up. Haaa.'

And yet, in a world like this, she talks about ending war?

It's nonsense.

"......"

Damn it.

Again, the bard's mocking laughter rang out.

Whether it's saying you'll end wars,

or trying to save someone irrelevant to you,

Isn't it just the same sort of hypocritical pretense?

"......"

So I focused on the crackling of the campfire instead,

and watched over the blindfolded woman.

Crackle. Crack-crackle.

Pretense, huh.

Sure, some might see it that way.

But,

the feeling I had about saving the person who saved my life,

and my actions today,

those were genuine, not hypocrisy.

And that was enough.

And then,

finally,

That sincerity got through.

"Where... am I?"

Her voice drifted out,

and the bard's laughter vanished.

At last, everything was quiet.

Crackle. Crackle.

You damn bard,

I won.

* * *

Fire.

Enemy.

The smell of burning corpses.

The cheers of the crowd.

The fearful glances of the soldiers.

The tears shed secretly behind glory.

And once again,

Fire.

Enemy. Smell.

Sound. Stares. Tears.

'How long.'

fireenemysoundsmellstaretearfireenemysoundsmellstaretearfirefire

'How long!?'

How long will this life repeat itself?

She wanted to escape.

From causing pain to others,

from suffering because of that pain,

from the false title of hero.

She wanted to throw all of it away.

And so, she asked:

'I ask the great Tower Master. Until when must I continue to erase so many lives?'

'■■■■.......'

Above her was a blurred face.

The mouth on that face seemed to be saying something, but she couldn't hear it.

One thing was certain:

At first, the mouth was calm,

'■■■?'

but as the conversation went on, it became agitated.

It twisted.

An argument.

Something like that, he had with her.

But,

What was her name again?

Who was the Tower Master?

Swish. Swish.

Her vision turned red.

She knew it was her own blood.

Thud.

Something dropped with a sound.

Her head felt lighter.

Her vision blurred.

Fading memories.

Faint memories.

Among them,

her final words were crystal clear.

'Plerine. Discarded.'

As her eyes slid shut,

the mana inside her body began to run wild.