57: Chapter 48: Prisoners of War 57: Chapter 48: Prisoners of War Passing through the lobby, many women who had taken shelter in Olivia’s house had already awakened.
They organized themselves spontaneously; some began to help clean, while others left the house to prepare food for everyone.
No matter what hardships and sorrows they had experienced, life had to go on.
Leon followed Olivia into the old blacksmith’s room and as soon as they entered, saw the robust old man trying stubbornly to get out of bed.
“Father, you should rest more now.”
Olivia frowned, slightly annoyed, and stepped forward to push her father back onto the bed and properly cover him with the blanket.
“Ah, I’m not that frail, Olivia,” Mr.
complained with a bitter smile, but, seeing his daughter’s firm stance, he gave up.
He leaned back against the headboard and turned to look at Leon.
Looking at the young man clad in silver Armor and carrying a treasure sword, the old man’s eyes drifted off, perhaps reminiscing, and a contemplative, slightly wistful expression crossed his face.
“You’ve come, young man.
Forgive this old man for not rising to greet you, please have a seat.”
After saying this, Brian tried to prop himself up and sit straight, then bowed his head to apologize, “Before we speak of other matters, let me apologize for my previous attitude and doubts.”
Leon waved his hand, “It’s okay, Uncle Brian.
Olivia had also found other suitable dwellings for us that day.
I didn’t take that small matter to heart.”
He then added, “Besides, it’s difficult to predict how things will unfold.
If you hadn’t rejected our idea of renting the farmhouse that day, we likely would have perished when the Kantadar people attacked.”
This was not merely a polite remark for Leon.
A blessing in disguise, as they say.
If the old blacksmith had agreed to rent them a place back then, and they had not stayed at the Mill Tower outside the village, they probably would have encountered the sudden attack of the Kantadar army in the village itself.
By then, forget about finding a chance to sneak in and rescue people, they themselves would hardly have been able to save their own lives.
They likely wouldn’t have survived long enough for the unexpected intervention of the Griffin in the chaotic army.
“One thing does not negate another; my unintentional action doesn’t excuse my previous rudeness to you, and besides, you risked your lives to save my daughter afterward.”
Speaking thus, a hint of remorse appeared in Brian’s eyes.
He looked toward his daughter and, with genuine gratitude in his voice, said, “Olivia told me what happened.
I truly don’t know how to thank you all.
My old bones dying is one thing, but if something had happened to Olivia, I couldn’t face it, even if I went to Hell…”
The old blacksmith’s lips trembled with emotion.
“Father, please don’t speak .
Please cherish your own life, isn’t that what you’ve taught me?” Olivia, sitting by the bed, consoled him.
Seeing his sensible daughter, Mr.
timely stopped his inappropriate words.
He nodded, suppressed the emotions nearly slipping out of control, and gradually calmed down.
He looked at Leon again, “Though Selva is no longer a place of peace, I can assure you that if you have nowhere else to stay, my door will always be open to you.
If you’re struggling financially, don’t hesitate to ask; I will provide any possible help I can.”
Watching the old blacksmith’s attitude shift dramatically again, Leon felt the universal concern of all parents.
Judging the man’s age, who was probably nearing sixty, and considering Olivia’s age, he deduced that this child was truly a gift to the old blacksmith in his later years.
He had not heard of any other siblings for Olivia, suggesting that this only child was clearly far more important to her parents than their own lives.
“No need for money, but a friend of mine was injured and it seems he indeed needs to recuperate for some time in your esteemed house.”
After exchanging a few polite words, Leon said to Olivia, “Let’s not disturb Uncle Brian’s rest any longer.
I would like to visit Azeryan.
Is he still in the same room?”
“Um, Azeryan is next door, I just brought him some food, and you should remember to go get breakfast from Aunt Milia,” the girl instructed.
After watching the young man politely get up to say goodbye and leave the room, Mr.
Brian turned and looked at his daughter with fearful eyes.
“It really was a terrible nightmare…
Thankfully, you ended up unharmed.
Whether these kids were smitten by your beauty or inspired by a simple chivalrous heart, I am beyond grateful to them.”
Olivia glanced back unhappily at Brian, “Father, please don’t baselessly speculate about my friends and don’t insult their kindness.
Do you think I am a princess from a fairy tale?
I’m just a country girl, hardly worth dying for.”
Brian opened his mouth but at last he could only nod his head, seemingly not wishing to anger his daughter, “Well, at least now it’s been proven that your ability to judge character is more accurate than mine.”
Olivia’s mood dampened, “I’d rather have everyone in the village survive—Uncle Matt, Grandpa Andro, Grandma Rona, and many of the younger brothers and sisters in the village…
So many people are gone forever.”
“It’s not your fault, don’t blame yourself needlessly,” Brian comforted.
The girl couldn’t help thinking, “If only the village Militia hadn’t been called away…”
“That would have only increased the number of casualties,” the old blacksmith said as he gently tousled the girl’s hair.
“Not everyone is as strong as you, daughter, and even you couldn’t protect yourself, so what could a household’s conscripted men have done staying in the village?
Do you expect them to defeat those ferocious Kantadar Cavalry with spears and short swords?
Rather, by not being in the village, they actually avoided a catastrophe.
If they had been killed too, the whole village would have been completely lost.”
“I know, Father, but if, if I could become stronger…” the girl lamented, looking down at the Sword now always slung at her waist.
Brian watched as his daughter gazed intently at the hilt of the Sword and stopped himself from saying more, finally sighing with resignation, “In the future, I won’t stop you from learning the sword.
These times are getting more chaotic.
I’m old and it’s getting hard to protect you, even a remote place like Selva isn’t spared from the war.”
He added, looking out of the window, “Worst comes to worst, once I’ve healed from my injuries, I’ll give this house to those three young people, and we can move North.”
“How was your rest?” Leon walked into the guest room where Azeryan was staying and greeted his friend who was eating breakfast in bed.
Chewing on bread and jerky, Azeryan turned to see Leon clad in Armor and brightened, jokingly saying, “That’s some nice attire you have there, I almost want to get out of bed to bow to you, Mr.
“I couldn’t bear that, Sir Azruein,” Leon exaggeratedly steadied his Sword and bowed.
Watching his friend’s strangely comical greeting, Azeryan laughed but then shook his head, “I haven’t inherited any title or lands, so I can’t be called a Sir.
Besides, even if I did one day retrieve my father’s lands from the Kantadar people, don’t make such eerie remarks, it gives me the creeps.”
Having experienced life and death together and fought side by side, their friendship was now beyond caring about each other’s origins.
“Alright, no more jokes, how are you feeling?
There’s a set of Armor waiting for you in the storeroom to try on,” Leon said as he pulled a chair over, sat down beside his friend, and grabbed a piece of bread from his plate to munch.
“Everything else is fine, I’m not hurting much after sleeping, but I had a nasty fall on my leg, can’t walk on it yet,” Azeryan replied.
“Then you should just rest easy for the next few days.
You saved Olivia, and Uncle Bryan now treats us as benefactors, no one is going to drive us away anymore, we don’t have to run around,” Leon assured.
“Where’s Lokhak?” asked Azeryan.
Chewing on the bread, Leon casually answered, “He’s helping the village watch over the prisoners.
A Knight Kantadar survived, and we still don’t know what to do with him.”
“Wait, a Knight Kantadar.” Mentioning Lokhak and the prisoners, it seemed Leon suddenly remembered something.
The boy in bed looked at him quizzically.
Leon quickly finished his food and got up, “I’m afraid I’ll need your help with something, I’ll carry you there.”
“I don’t mind, but what do you need my help with?” Azeryan asked, setting his tray aside on a nearby table.
“Do you remember the Kantadar officer who bought Sister Lokhak?” Leon helped his friend up and explained, “I still remember the white bird emblem on that noble officer’s coat.
If we are lucky, Lokhak’s Knight Kantadar might know which noble family that emblem represents…
You understand the Uria Language, you can interrogate him properly.”