Chapter 3: Homecoming and Healing
The bone-chilling wind blew, cold air seeping through the armor, while the winter sunlight shone brilliantly upon the silver-white armor of the knights.
On the road connecting Moldova and Moldavia, a large troop of knights silently urged their warhorses forward, galloping past. Hooves stomped in interlocking patterns, kicking up ice shards and snow dust, trailing a gray haze at the rear of the formation.
Since there was no need to rush, the knights traveled somewhat slower than when they had raced to reinforce Moldova. Several days of travel had not fatigued these Silver-rank warriors; rather, it had helped ease their pace.
But no matter how slow, they were now nearing their destination.
Joshua held the reins of his black horse with one hand, his gaze not fixed ahead but vacant, watching the shifting clouds in the sky. Behind him, Ying clung to the warrior's waist, her delicate face drowsy and half-asleep.
Unlike the journey to the reinforcement, where scattered magical beasts had to be eliminated, this trip home offered nothing but snow and forests—no other scenery, let alone monsters to destroy. Occasionally, one could spot lone adventurers trekking through the snowfield or hunters driving sleds, but they were few. The dragon-cart merchant caravans had completely vanished due to the recent Black Tide; it would likely take a week or two before new caravans set out or arrived.
Repetitive scenery and actions always bred weariness and boredom.
"Everyone, we're nearing our destination. Perk up—the main city lies ahead."
"Yes!"
With a slight boost to morale, Joshua felt a ripple of emotion within himself.
Although he had crossed over since October, spending more than half of the past two months traveling and fighting, and had not stayed long in the main city, the warrior still regarded this city built upon the icefield as his foothold in this world.
Returning home to rest was certainly something to look forward to.
In the distance, the massive walls forged from black granite came into view, standing stark against the white expanse of heaven and earth. Spurred by the sight, the entire formation quickened its pace.
Starfall Year 831, December 28th, 3:47 PM. After days of travel, the knights returned to their homeland.
The main city of Moldavia had not changed much during its lord's month-long absence. Scouts atop the towers spotted the conspicuous banner and the leading warrior from afar, and the heavy city gate slowly rose. The knights slowed their pace, passing through the gate, and under the gaze of the residents, marched in orderly fashion to the military camp in the northern part of the city.
After a full headcount, Joshua announced dismissal. As long as they registered their names, everyone would receive thirty days of leave.
During this reinforcement of Moldova, although the most critical series of actions had been carried out by the warrior alone, breaking through the beast tide to reach the fortress had truly depended on the unified military force of these knights. Otherwise, with Joshua's solitary strength, it would have been difficult to fight in and out of a full-strength beast tide of over two hundred thousand—especially since the beasts had not yet been corrupted by Chaos back then, so killing them yielded no Azure Orb energy feedback.
The knights were naturally overjoyed at the leave, especially with the year-end and New Year approaching. Although the northern climate meant the city did not hold grand New Year celebrations like the Imperial Capital or other large cities, spending this time with family was the best possible outcome.
However, since they had set out from Black Forest Fortress without bringing their belongings, and some knights had families there, a portion planned to rest in the main city for about a day before returning to the fortress. Joshua naturally did not refuse this reasonable request.
Picking up a pen, after registering the names of several knights who still needed warhorses, the warrior glanced at his own barely legible handwriting. After a moment's thought, he casually designated a Silver High-rank knight to handle the personnel changes, while he himself took the silver-haired girl, who was still rubbing her eyes, by the hand and headed toward the church in the city center.
"What is Master going to do…"
"Heal."
Between question and answer, Joshua tried to move his left hand—but the unhealed wound and the shoulder bone that had only just begun to grow made the act of "raising his hand" nothing more than a slight twitch of the palm. The warrior sighed and shook his head.
The priests at the Moldova fortress had tried their best, but they were still too young, far from skilled in wound treatment. Old Priest Atanis, a Silver High-rank just one step away from Gold, was leagues above them.
To recover from his injuries as quickly as possible, Joshua wasted no time and went straight to the city center, to the temple of the God of Might and Justice—the entrance of Saint Lawrence Cathedral.
At the top of the bell tower, the black circular holy emblem was shining, emitting a sacred radiance. Many believers came and went, entering and exiting the church.
"It should be hymn time now, or perhaps meal time."
With that thought flashing through his mind, Joshua nodded in response to the respectful salutes of those who recognized him, then crossed the steps, passed the massive stone tablet at the entrance, and entered.
Walking through the corridor, he looked up and immediately spotted a familiar figure—the white-haired priest Atanis seemed to have known the warrior would come here. Wearing a pair of wooden-framed glasses and holding a book, he stood before the hall, waiting for Joshua to approach.
"Since the fortress, it's been a while."
Behind the old priest followed his two apprentices, both Silver-rank priests, who looked at the black-haired warrior with some restraint, as if afraid to let their gaze linger on him. Noticing this, Atanis shook his head: "I didn't expect your strength to increase so quickly again. But still, Lord, please restrain your aura a bit—you'll frighten the surrounding believers."
"Probably. It has indeed been a while."
Joshua tried to suppress the aura he had unconsciously released after days of bloody combat, but he found helplessly that this thing did not seem to shift at will—judging by the respectful yet fearful looks from the passing believers, his efforts were meaningless.
Atanis also shook his head in exasperation. As an acquaintance, he and Joshua had little need for formalities. He said directly, "Here to heal?"
"Exactly. My left arm is severely injured; the shoulder bone was…"
As he briefly described his injury and the process of how it happened, Joshua saw the old priest's gaze grow increasingly fierce, until finally it was pure disappointment.
"How many times have I told you to watch your left arm's injuries! The lingering damage from your last fight with that Gold-rank warrior from the Wilson family hasn't fully healed, and you still rely on battle qi ultimate techniques to wrestle with a black dragon barehanded—you're not a barbarian's Heavenly War Guardian, nor a bloodline druid who can transform into a dragon beast. You're a warrior who fights with weapons and technique! If you don't use your strengths and insist on brute force, you deserve such a heavy injury!"
Hearing the relentless scolding, Joshua felt no anger at all. After all, the other party was an elder figure, and out of respect for doctors—for healing professionals—the warrior had no reason to be upset. Everything the old priest said was true: he had gotten carried away and made too many mistakes, leading to severe injuries. Besides, he was currently in need of the man's help; letting him talk a bit more was no big deal.
After grumbling for a while, Atanis emphasized, "If you still don't take care of your body next time, and let your left hand get into trouble again, the accumulated damage will mean you need a full year of rest without using it to recover!" Joshua nodded repeatedly in agreement.
"As for now, since those people in Moldova treated it in time, and your vitality is indeed strong, it will only take about a month to fully recover."
Feeling Joshua's left hand and probing with holy light, the white-haired old priest mused for a moment, then shook his head: "Forget it, come with me to the quiet room. I'll treat you again."
"Remember, this time there's a fee. I'll send the bill to the Lord's Manor."
"No problem. Though I don't even know how much money I have, it's definitely enough."
The warrior shrugged, then turned to the silver-haired girl behind him and said, "Ying, do you want to stay here, or come in and watch how I get treated?" (To be continued.)