I knocked on the door, and Targa's low voice came from the other side.
"It's Targa. I have brought Van the Baron. Excuse me."
As he opened the door, the room was nothing short of a battlefield. Several people were standing around the bed, moving quickly with their hands, while others were running about, carrying water and new cloth.
"Stop the bleeding properly!"
"Hurry, bring water!"
Amidst the chaos, I stared at the face of the person lying in bed.
Seeing my father’s face, pale as a ghost, I found myself unable to think at all. Bandages were wrapped around his shoulders, arms, and abdomen, but it was his leg that stood out. His right leg, from the knee down, was completely gone. The bed was soaked in crimson, and while they were trying to stop the bleeding by tightly wrapping his thigh, the bleeding seemed far from controlled.
"I... I’ll help!"
Til said, her voice trembling, as she ran to assist with the first aid. After watching her for a moment, I took a step closer to the bed.
As I got closer, I realized just how bad Jalpa's condition was. He had lost consciousness, his breathing shallow and rapid. His face was almost completely white.
"…Van-sama."
Hearing my name called, I turned to see Arte holding my hand, her eyes teary. She didn’t say anything, but I could feel she was trying to comfort me in her own way. Her kindness made my eyes well up, but I held back the tears, merely nodding in response.
Standing next to me, Targa was looking down at Jalpa with a grim expression.
"…Van-sama. I must say something harsh, but you should prepare for the worst."
Targa's words made Stradale, standing behind us, visibly tense. In my mind, Stradale was like a samurai — silent, dedicated to swordsmanship and battle, loyal to the one he served. Seeing him silently stare at Jalpa, lying in bed, made me feel tears welling up again.
Kamshin and Lou weren’t looking at Jalpa, but were instead gazing at me with concern. I was aware that I had caused them to worry, but I couldn’t offer any response.
Meanwhile, Til, despite being shouted at by a knight, was desperately wiping the sweat from Jalpa's face and bringing in fresh water. Everyone in the room was doing their best to assist, but it seemed clear that things weren’t heading in a good direction.
As despair began to fill the room, Panamera, who had been standing with her arms crossed and observing the situation, sighed deeply.
"…Ha. I don’t want to be hated for this, but..."
I turned to see what she was saying, and her sharp, blade-like eyes met mine.
Panamera held her palm in front of her face and opened her mouth.
"...I don’t know if he’ll live or die, but I can stop the bleeding. However, in his current state, the chances of survival are less than one in ten."
She murmured softly, and then, with a flick of her wrist, a red light began to emanate from her hand. Flames wrapped around her palm as they ignited.
"...Wait, are you going to burn him?"
I asked, and Panamera shrugged before glancing at Jalpa.
"The bleeding has been somewhat controlled, but if it continues, the Marquis will certainly die. If I burn him, I can stop the bleeding... However, from my experience, many have died from the burns. If that happens, Van-sama, will you hate me?"
"...I won’t hate you. Please, go ahead."
I responded with a firm resolve. Panamera gave a small, reluctant smile before walking toward Jalpa.
"...Losing a family member isn’t something one can easily accept. But if I do nothing and just let him go, I’ll be hated. It’s a thankless task, truly."
Panamera said this with a sad expression before standing next to Jalpa. The knights and Til, who had been listening to Panamera, stopped moving.
"You there, remove the cloth from the Marquis’s foot. Don’t undo the bandages that are stopping the bleeding."
"Y-yes..."
One of the knights, under Panamera’s orders, carefully removed the cloth wrapped around the foot. As it came off, the red-stained cloth revealed the bloody stump of his leg. It was too horrific to look at.
"...!"
Arte squeezed my hand harder. When I looked beside me, I met her gaze. Her shoulders were trembling, and I could see her lips quivering, yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Jalpa. It was as if she was silently praying, like a nun offering a prayer.
Without any hesitation, Panamera moved her flame-encased hand toward the exposed stump.
The sound of flesh burning, the sound of gasping breaths, and Jalpa's muffled groans filled the air.
"…Ah..."
Arte gasped, and from the look on Til’s face, I could see her fear as she stared at Jalpa. She had clenched her hands tightly at her thighs, shaking but unable to look away, as if she were holding onto some last bit of hope.
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