Chapter 45: The Witch

“Mister, your body is on fire,” the prostitute said, buried underneath Urich.

Urich and the mercenaries were replenishing their supplies and taking their much-needed rest in the city of Valgma and were scheduled to depart the next day.

“I’m a pretty hot man,” Urich said with a slight grin. The prostitute stopped the loud moaning and shook her head.

“No, that’s not what I meant. Your body is actually hot. You don’t look too well, are you ill, or something?”

“Eh?”

The prostitute put her hand against Urich’s forehead, then looked at Urich in shock.

“Y-your forehead is burning.”

“R...really?”

Urich stopped his movement and touched his forehead. It felt like he was touching a burning rock.

“Eh?”

Urich stumbled. His breath became rapid, and the symptoms started to take over his body the moment he became aware of them.

Thud.

He leaned against the wall. He was overwhelmed by a sudden dizziness that made it feel like the world was turning upside down.

“Mister?” The prostitute panicked and pulled up the cover.

“No, it’s nothing. I already paid you, so let’s just finish... eh? Eh? Yuck.”

Urich collapsed against the wall and thrust his body forward. He vomited everything that he had for breakfast.

‘What’s wrong with my body?’

The prostitute frowned.

“I-I’ll give you your money back, so just leave, please! Right now!”

The prostitute yelled as if she was about to call her pimp. Urich nodded and stumbled back to the inn that the mercenary squad was staying at. There were a few mercenaries at the rented inn.

“Urich?”

The mercenaries looked at Urich. It was obvious that he was in bad shape.

“It’s just a slight fever. The wounds from before must have gotten infected or something.”

Urich went into his room and fell into his bed. Outside, the mercenaries murmured.

‘Urich is ill.’

It could have been a minor ailment. If he woke up fine the next day, everything would be back to normal.

Urich did not wake up fine the next morning. In fact, his condition had gotten worse. The mercenaries gathered for a meeting, and Phillion and Pahell joined in.

“How’s Urich doing?”

“We’re not sure. Maybe the wounds really got infected? He was in an absolute mess after his last battle.”

“Let’s just go find a doctor. Surely a city like this has at least a couple of them here.”

Bachman moved quickly to ask around for a doctor, successfully bringing one in before sunset.

“Huh? You brought someone? I should be fine by the morning.”

Bachman frowned at Urich’s words.

“Shut your mouth and let him take a look at you.”

“Sigh, fine, fine. Look all you want, but I’m healthy. I just need a day’s rest and I’ll be fine. I’m healthy, really.”

Urich’s complaining made the doctor look around at the mercenaries.

“Can someone shut this guy up? He’s someone who’d continue to talk even after he’s dead.”

“Keke, cough.”

Urich’s laughter was cut short by the pain in his chest.

“Your body is a mess. Did you escape from torture or something?”

Pahell, who had been listening in in the background, flinched at the doctor’s words.

“I was never tortured, but I did get cut up with those metal pieces,” Urich said as the doctor rolled his body around, looking at every corner of his body.

“Fucking hell, keep an eye on this guy. I feel like he’s trying to go for my ass!”

The doctor slapped Urich’s back after hearing his comment.

“Why would I put my hand on a man’s body if it weren’t for the gold coins? Hmm, your wounds don’t seem like they’ve been infected. Do you have any broken bones that could be causing any internal damage?”

“My bones aren’t broken.”

“Then you must have run out of energy. You’ve become weak.”

“What?”

Urich’s response showed his disbelief.

“You say you’re fine, but your body looks like it’s been tortured to death. A weakened body like that is quite prone to illnesses and diseases. You sound like a barbarian; you guys are vulnerable to a lot of local diseases.”

“Disease? Hah! I’ve never gotten sick once in my life!”

Bachman laughed at Urich’s words beside him.

“That’s because you’re a child who hasn’t even turned twenty yet. Stop forcing yourself and just get some bed rest. That’s the best thing you can do for yourself right now.”

The mercenaries chuckled at Bachman’s words.

“No matter how healthy one may be, their body is bound to get weak with several wounds and piled up fatigue. Get plenty of rest, and drink lots of clean water. I’ll prescribe you some fever reducers.”

The doctor pulled out a handful of herbal pills. Bachman paid the doctor.

“You heard the doc, right? Get some rest, my little brother.”

Bachman closed the door after himself. Urich closed his eyes, and he instantly felt the fatigue rushing in. No amount of sleep was enough; his body was as tired as he was.

The mercenaries gathered and murmured.

“Urich’s not in a good shape, is he?”

“His mouth was the only part of him that was still working.”

“Perhaps we should start thinking about a new captain, just in case.”

Urich was well-loved by the mercenaries, but that didn’t mean that they were willing to follow an ill leader until the very end.

“Shut up, all of you. Urich will be back to normal in no time. This is only a minor delay in our schedule. Just get ready to leave whenever we can,” Bachman said as he walked down the stairs. The mercenaries didn’t seem to listen to him.

‘Dammit,’ Bachman cursed inside his head.

‘I can’t blame them. It’s only fair for a weakened leader to step down.’

The reason why Urich was accepted as the leader of the mercenary squad was his strength. He was stronger than anyone else in the squad. He was so strong that even Donovan couldn’t say a word against him.

‘If Urich doesn’t make it, then Donovan is the next one in line for the leadership.’

Bachman was becoming anxious. He wasn’t confident in himself to carry on under the leadership of Donovan.

‘You have to get up, Urich, please.’

Ever since their gladiatorial days, Bachman had gambled everything on Urich. So far, the gamble had been paying off, as he was a founding member of Urich’s inner circle.

“Bachman,” Pahell called the mercenary.

“What’s wrong, Young Master?”

As Bachman looked up, Pahell tilted his head and asked him to follow.

Creak.

Bachman went into Pahell’s room, where Phillion was waiting for them.

‘Bachman is the closest man to Urich.’

Pahell and Phillion had a rough understanding of the power structure within the mercenary squad.

‘Urich and Bachman are quite close. Donovan is not so pro-Urich, but he is very capable and has his own group within the mercenaries. Sven is the head of the third group of the northern barbarians.’

Bachman looked back and forth between Phillion and Pahell, then sat down.

“What is it, Sir Phillion?”

“I wanted to ask you something in private, so I called you in here.”

“The other mercenaries out there won’t be so fond of us talking in private like this. Let’s make it quick.”

“If Urich doesn’t get better, who do you think is going to lead the mercenaries?” Phillion’s question showed his concern.

“Even if I wanted to do it myself, the other mercenaries won’t approve of it. There’s Sven and Donovan, but Sven doesn’t have a bit of desire to lead the squad. He keeps to himself quite a bit.”

“Then, if Donovan were to become the leader, do you think he would carry out our contract?” Pahell asked.

“Traditionally, the new leader takes over the same contract to see it through, but I don’t know what that bastard is thinking. Regardless of that, if Urich doesn’t recover, then I’ll be leaving the squad. I won’t get any of the reward money because I’m quitting halfway through, but it’ll still be better than working under Donovan,” Bachman said with a bitter grin. He then got up from his seat and left the room.

Pahell and Phillion remained in the room and discussed their next steps.

“It might not be a bad idea to look for a new mercenary squad to take on our job, Your Highness. I’ll ask around to see if there are any nearby.”

Pahell shook his head at Phillion’s suggestion.

“Urich isn’t dead yet, Sir Phillion, you’re getting too ahead of yourself.” Pahell said assertively, making Phillion flinch.

‘Did the prince just say that?’

It wasn’t the whiny demand of a child-like before. He was making his judgment and thoughts clear.

“Do you have any other plans, Your Highness?”

“Sun God Lou is watching us. If we even think about breaking our oath, it won’t be good for us. This is Valgma, a border city with a lot of foreigners. I’ll go out and look for someone who could heal Urich. In the meantime, keep a close eye on the movement of the mercenaries, Sir Phillion.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Phillion showed his respect as he slightly bowed his head. His heart lurched in his chest.

‘He indeed as the royal blood flowing in his veins. The problematic part was the environment that he was in.’

Pahell stared out the window. His blue eyes were so clear that they were practically glowing.

“Urich the mercenary leader is a man of integrity. He is also quite skilled. Since he has made an oath with me, he will protect me with his own life. Even if we managed to find another mercenary squad, we wouldn’t be able to find someone like him. We would probably have to worry about them as much as we worry about the chase party.”

Pahell had witnessed it with his own eyes. Urich protected him by putting his own life on the line time and time again. Urich had so many opportunities to run off or even sell him out, but such thoughts didn’t even seem to cross his mind.

‘That’s what you call integrity. You can’t get that just by talking about it.’

Urich’s existence was a huge shock to the young prince.

“Be careful, Your Highness.”

Pahell left the inn with a knight accompanying him. He went around the taverns of the city to look for anyone who would have any medical knowledge.

“Even that doctor couldn’t come up with anything, do you think the others would be different?” the knight asked him.

“Barbarians know more about a barbarian’s body than civilized men. The barbarian medicine might be exactly what Urich needs.”

Pahell remembered reading about the topic in his books. He had read both the Northern and Southern Chronicles. They were written by the first emperor during his conquest of the barbarians. The barbarian customs and behaviors were well documented in those books.

“Still, you must be careful not to reveal your identity. Even though we’ve crossed the border, Duke Harmatti won’t give up so easily.”

“I know that.”

Pahell walked into the next tavern. It was a place that reeked of the smell of beer and body odor.

“Mmm.”

Pahell stepped inside, barely maintaining his composure. The eyes of the people inside the tavern scanned him.

“One beer,” Pahell said as he grabbed a seat. The tavernkeeper frowned.

“You come with two people, but you only order one beer.”

“...two beers, then.”

“Here you go!”

The tavernkeeper grinned and held out the pints. The beer shook and spilled a little.

The tavern was filled with voices chattering here and there. The ceiling of the second floor shook with a muffled moaning of men and women leaking through. Pahell looked around carefully, emptying his glass.

“What are you looking for that hard, sir?” The tavernkeeper asked as he refilled the glass without even asking.

“I’m looking for a barbarian healer. Do you know anyone?”

“A barbarian healer... ah, you’re looking for a shaman! I’m not sure. Hey! Where do you think you’re going, Zuniba? You better not run off with my thirty percent,” the tavernkeeper yelled at the woman coming down from the second floor. He was also a pimp.

“Stop yelling, I was just about to give it to you. I just had to run to the bathroom first.”

“This is the only place that would take in a barbarian bitch like you. Just hand the money over.”

The tavernkeeper was practically robbing the barbarian prostitute. Zuniba handed over the coins without a fuss.

“Oh my, a handsome young man. Would you like to go upstairs with me? How does that sound?” Zuniba said to Pahell as she looked at him up and down.

Her accent was from the south. The northern accent was hard and rough, whereas the southern accent was soft and melodic. This made northern women quite popular among men.

“That’s not what I’m here for. Are you a barbarian, as well?”

Pahell asked the woman, but the tavernkeeper answered for her.

“She’s just a barbarian prostitute; not worth your attention. She’ll do anything for money. If you let her come too close to you, she will probably steal your money bag and run off like a rat. If you’re looking for a barbarian healer, I’ll ask around. We do get a lot of barbarians dropping in here.”

The tavernkeeper spoke with open contempt for Zuniba with her standing right beside him. Zuniba smiled at Pahell with her eyes as if she was used to it.

“I would appreciate that. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Pahell got up, leaving half of the beer in his glass. The tavernkeeper took the leftover beer and dumped it back into the keg.

“Come again, sir!” The tavernkeeper shouted at Pahell’s back.

Step, step.

After leaving the tavern, Pahell walked down the alleyway. His knight whispered in his ear.

“That prostitute from earlier is following us, Your Highness.”

Pahell looked back. Zuniba, who had been tailing the prince, stopped in her tracks and nodded lightly.

“I hear that you are looking for a barbarian healer, good sir.”

“That’s right, I’m not looking for a prostitute.”

“A good healer is a good shaman, and a good female shaman is adept in techniques of squeezing a man. It is also a healer’s duty to take care of men wounded from battle, good sir.”

Pahell thought for a second. He remembered seeing similar words in one of his books.

‘The book said that barbarian shamans are often women, and they heal both the body and the minds of the warriors.’