Those who suddenly turned around split to both sides without anyone taking the lead. Hugo, the 8th Platoon Leader, and the commander of another battalion appeared between them.
Hugo, who had hurried over, glanced at the shattered ice pillar and the Dermocas that had flown far away, then imdiately knelt in front of the mber. He removed the protective glove from his right hand and unhesitatingly brought his hand to the mber’s exposed ankle.
As his cool hand touched it, the mber—who had been grimacing—visibly froze.
Hugo’s eyes flicked to the mber’s face for a mont before returning to the injured area. A faint white light spread from his fingertips as he focused.
After a mont, the redness staining the ankle and shin gradually returned to its original color, as if the dead blood [N O V E L I G H T] had been drawn out.
The bruise hadn’t vanished completely, but the tiny blood vessels that had burst under the skin seed to have been repaired; the discoloration faded noticeably, no longer looking as serious as before. It had taken only seconds.
Leonardo, watching quietly from behind, couldn’t hide his surprise.
Until now, the dical team had always accompanied them, leaving no reason for the Commander to treat anyone himself, and this was Leonardo’s first ti seeing Hugo use recovery.
Yet such swift healing was clearly beyond what even trained dical personnel could manage unless that was their main attribute.
Among combat personnel, so could use mana-based dical techniques, but unless it was their primary specialty, their capabilities were generally limited. In fact, even he, an All-Rounder, was basically a beginner in the field of treatnt.
In that sense, Hugo Agrizendro’s ability could only be described as outrageous.
anwhile, the mber’s swollen ankle and shin seed to calm under the cold chill, visibly subsiding. As his condition improved, Hugo brushed the mber’s leg once, then withdrew his hand. He jerked his chin and said,
"Try moving it."
"Pardon?"
The mber, who had reflexively asked back, imdiately understood and rotated his ankle while sitting. Surprisingly, the throbbing pain had vanished as if washed away.
"...Huh?"
The mber blinked in disbelief and kept rubbing his ankle. Before long, his gaze—filled with awe—lifted toward Hugo.
"I—I think it’s fine now. It doesn’t hurt at all!"
With none of the pain from monts earlier, he bowed his head, his face flushed with relief.
"Wow... Thank you. Thank you, Commander!"
However, the mont Hugo heard his gratitude, he asked in a cold voice,
"Why didn’t you avoid it and just stand there?"
His gaze was as icy as his tone, and the mber facing him flinched, instinctively drawing a breath.
The mber’s eyes lowered and flicked across the ground. After hesitating, he answered carefully.
"Ah, that’s... It happened so suddenly that I think my body froze without realizing."
"..."
"But at the last mont, my survival instinct must’ve kicked in, and my legs moved on their own... Yes..."
His voice trailed off, followed by an awkward laugh. Now that the pain was gone, he seed embarrassed by the sudden attention, glancing around and scratching the back of his head. He looked as if he wanted to escape the situation entirely.
Leonardo’s eyes narrowed. His way of speaking and acting felt strangely unnatural, and sohow his face was familiar.
Hugo, having heard the answer, watched him without expression.
As the Commander silently stared, the mber’s awkward smile slowly stiffened, as if he sensed sothing amiss.
Only when a comrade behind him muttered a small reprimand did he repeatedly bow, mumbling apologies and thanks again.
Hugo, who had been coldly looking down at him, suddenly placed a hand on the mber’s shoulder. Gripping it firmly, he solemnly advised,
"It’s fortunate you’re unhard, but what you did could have led to a serious injury. Avoid reckless attempts to confront a creature directly. Always carry your personal rifle or sword."
Hugo’s gaze dropped to the mber’s waist, which—unlike the others—held no equipnt.
With a tense expression, the mber bowed again, whether from the heavy pressure of Hugo’s hand or from being reprimanded by the highest-ranking commander present.
"Yes, I understand... I’m sorry."
Only after hearing the answer did Hugo—who had watched him closely until the end—stand. Then he looked toward the Dermocas lying far away. Though it had stayed silent since hitting the wall, they couldn’t relax; once the tranquilizer wore off, it could wake up at any mont.
"The creature can regain consciousness at any ti. Replace the damaged sealing device, restrain it more securely, and assign at least two mbers to monitor it closely. There may be others following it, so clear the area as quickly as possible. In about ten minutes, reorganize the personnel and resu the search by sector."
"Yes, understood!"
As the Commander issued orders, the mbers watching for instructions responded loudly and moved at once. The commander next to him also urged everyone to hurry and take care of the situation.
If the Dermocas had truly signaled its companions, it could endanger not only those here but the entire Council. So, even without harsh words, everyone clearly understood Hugo’s warning to stay vigilant.
The chaotic scene began to settle quickly, but Leonardo remained where he was, brows furrowed, unable to look away.
His gaze stayed fixed on the mber being supported as he walked away among the dispersing crowd.
There was sothing unsettling about the sharpness in that awkward smile.
‘Could it be...’
The image of the bonfire he had stared at that morning while eating breakfast, exhausted, suddenly flashed through his mind.
anwhile, Hugo picked up two or three ice pieces that had fallen near the shattered pillar at his feet. After examining them closely, he gestured for the 8th Platoon Leader to co nearer.
"Platoon Leader Russell."
"Yes."
"Try crushing it with your hand."
He handed her a piece. The sudden order puzzled her, but after glancing at the broken fragnts, she soon grasped his intent. She grabbed the ice and tightened her grip.
The ice withstood her strength for several seconds before cracking cleanly in half when her fist trembled. Hugo asked,
"Is it softer than usual?"
"I’m not... sure. It seems similar."
At the ambiguous response, Hugo crushed the piece in his own hand. The shattered powder fell through his fingers to the floor. He had asked Russell to test it to see whether the ice had softened due to his unstable condition or the internal temperature.
But after checking directly, the hardness and density didn’t differ much from usual.
aning it wasn’t ordinary ice that a selected mber should be able to shatter with bare hands.
"..."
Hugo, brow furrowed, suddenly turned his head toward Leonardo. He thought that since Leonardo had been right in front during the incident and had sharp vision, he might have seen sothing.
But Leonardo’s gaze was elsewhere. Following it, that sa mber from earlier ca into view again.
Hugo, observing quietly, lowered his eyes to his own hand—the one that had touched the mber’s leg monts ago.
Even allowing for swelling and fever, the mber’s body temperature had been higher than normal. But what surfaced in Hugo’s mind was the mont a few days ago when Leonardo had suddenly grabbed his face.
Reflecting on that, Hugo flexed and unflexed his hand several tis. Then he approached Leonardo—still standing in a daze—and tapped his shoulder twice.
"Let’s go too."
"Huh? Oh..."
Leonardo snapped out of it and turned his head.
He quickly looked away and followed Hugo without saying much. Staring too long in one direction would invite suspicion.
He kept his expression neutral and looked ahead, but before long, his golden eyes flicked back to where his attention had lingered.
When he turned his head slightly and glanced at the mber again, Leonardo’s eyebrows twitched. The mber’s eyes—mixed in among his comrades—were looking directly this way.
Leonardo’s steps froze for a brief mont.
The corners of the mber’s mouth seed to curl ever so slightly.
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