I opened my eyes with a gasp.
Only to be blinded by the lights on the ceiling.
"Ack!", I covered my poor eyes. They really hurt.
My. That sounds like a terrible verse for a poem.
Anyway.
My entire body is in pain but not the hellish kind I experienced in Blood Valley. It felt more like my body was sore from too much exercise.
"Ouch.", I muttered.
"Oh? You're alive?", a familiar and annoying voice asked me.
I frowned and squinted at the owner of the voice.
Her eyes constantly shifted colors and she had a big smirk on her face, "Congratulations. You just survived your first battle."
"Fuck you, Merlin.", I gritted my teeth and swore.
"Not the first words I expected from your mouth. Also, please mind your language young man.", she replied as she sat at the foot of my bed, her eyes glinting with mischief.
"And you mind your own business.", I retorted in a strained voice.
"Yep. You're fine. No signs of mental trauma so far.", she noted.
I realized that I was currently lying on a bed in what appeared to be an infirmary. It is huge and I have a feeling the entire floor is dedicated to medical treatments.
I seem to be in a general room as there are many beds around me, most of them full.
There were Deathwalkers with all sorts of injuries. Some had their arms in slings, some had their legs in casts, and some were even wrapped head to toe with bandages.
I looked at the ones who were relatively fine physically and noticed the expressions on their faces.
Terror.
It was evident in their eyes. They were probably the other newbies that survived along with me.
I have seen those faces in my previous world when new soldiers were faced with the brutal reality of war. These boys and girls who are not even twenty have been broken on the inside.
They are traumatized by just a single battle. Watching other Deathwalkers die brutally at the hands of the daemons has taken a catastrophic toll on their minds.
A few were curled up on their beds and sobbing uncontrollably, lamenting their fate.
Even if they survive and leave the Shield. They will never be able to adjust to society due to the mental scars.
I do hope the Shield has a place dedicated to mental trauma cause these kids are cracked.
And I am not one of them.
Sure, the things that I saw on the battlefield were horrifying but I am used to it. I had been on many battlefields in my past and have seen worse things.
There is no limit to the cruelty a human can do to another human.
I was quite shocked by the sheer scale of violence exhibited by the daemons.
You don't see a soldier getting cleaved in half by a single sword slice regularly on the battlefields of Great Britain.
Looks like I am broken, just like what the warlock said.
Eravon Lock. What a curious man.
I looked at myself and was surprised to see my arm fully attached to my body. The wound is covered in bandages and the terrible pain from it is not there anymore.
I realized that I was only wearing shorts and nothing else. My chest had been bandaged and the burning of the gash was gone as well. The rest of my body was bandaged all over.
Merlin was staring at me the entire time I examined my body.
I met her gaze, "How long was I out?"
"Two days.", She replied, "You are a lucky guy, Mordred. The remaining daemons retreated into the Tear soon after the one behind you was blown up by the railgun."
"You lost consciousness and suffered severe burns due to your proximity to the blast. The Scavengers picked you up and brought you to Althea, the medical center of the Shield."
"Scavengers?", I asked.
"They are Deathwalkers who clean up the battlefield. They transport the wounded to Althea, pick up body parts for reattachment, pick up used and lost weapons, and carry the dead or what remains of them.", Merlin explained with a straight face.
She noticed my expression, "Oh? You seem quite disturbed. Well, a Scavenger is not an appetizing job in the Shield. I can say that."
I slowly shook my head, causing pain to flare up, "It's not about the Scavengers. It's about how blunt you were when you told me about them."
"Oh.", She looked surprised, "Well, I am quite used to this. Do you want to hear my past?"
"No thanks. I don't want even more emotional damage."
Merlin scoffed, "As if I will tell you about my past. But if you insist..."
"Jeez Merlin. I told you, I don't want to hear the story of your life. I am not interested.", I repeated.
"Alright.", She shrugged and with the same blank look told me, "I am glad that you are alive."
I scoffed, "I thought you wanted me dead."
"Yeah. I did. Unfortunately, if I try to change the future, something more troublesome will pop up. But I was still hoping that you would die. I hope you do in the future."
She smiled and repeated, "But I sure am glad to see that you're alive for now."
"Damnit Merlin.", I massaged my head, "Make up your mind. You're even confusing the readers."
"Heh.", she stuck out her tongue.
I tried to relax but the vivid and horrifying images of the battle flashed across my mind. I gripped my sheet and bit my lip.
I remember the daemons viciously cutting down Deathwalkers by the dozen and the Deathwalkers fighting back with pure savagery.
For every daemon destroyed, about ten Deathwalkers lost their lives.
I shuddered. Considering that the weakest daemon is a master D rank and the average Deathwlker is a beginner D rank, that was not a battle between daemons and humans. It was more of a slaughter.
Seeing my expression, Merlin's smile vanished, "That is the reality of the Tear, Mordred. What you saw today was not even a quarter of the horror. You're lucky there were no wraiths when you were deployed."
"Wraiths?", I was puzzled. There was no mention of them in the books the previous Mordred read.
"Undead monsters created by the daemons. Nasty buggers.", She said and looked at me with sympathy, "You will encounter them soon enough."
Wow. Thanks for the new disturbing info, Merlin. Definitely helping in keeping myself sane and not plunging my weak ass into further despair.
Before she could continue to list out the other nasty stuff that could kill me, I changed the subject.
I touched my bandaged right shoulder and asked her, "How is my arm fine? It was more or less dangling by a thread."
"Ah. That's quite simple.", Merlin cocked her head, "The Shield has the best healers in the entire Kingdom."
"They can reattach any severed body parts that are retrieved within a day and can heal any wounds as long as you are not dead. Heck, they can even save you from the brink of death."
She looked at me, "That's the reason for the processing you underwent."
"Huh?", I gave her a puzzled look. My mind was still rattled from all that was happening.
Merlin rolled her eyes, "Oh Incarni. Remember going buck nude inside the capsule?"
"Oh."
"Yeah.", she nodded vigorously, "The capsule imprints a unique ardor signature over your entire body. Scavengers use special detectors to identify the owners of body parts lying on the battlefield and send them to Althea for reattachment."
"It's quite a huge boon and has prevented a lot of rather unfortunate incidents regarding mistakes in reattachment. Honestly, imagine walking around with someone else's nose attached to your face."
I didn't want to imagine such a scenario, "That is oddly specific. Why the nose?"
Merlin snorted, "Believe me Mordred. Deathwalkers are very self-conscious about their noses."
"That is quite inconvenient.", I replied.
"I know right?"
After that banter, there was an awkward silence between us, broken only by the groans and crying of the other patients.
Many were looking at us, specifically Merlin. It is not every day you see the master of Avalon who is also one of the greatest warlocks in the world in the general ward of Althea.
I also felt some gazes on me. Maybe seeing a royal in the Shield is quite unexpected.
"Anyway.", Merlin cleared her throat and stood up.
"You are a lucky kid, Mordred. Only a handful of the newbies survive their first battle."
My body became numb when I heard her words, "What are the numbers?"
She looked at me with a grim expression, "Out of a hundred newbies, nine survived and among them, only you are the most mentally stable one."
I stared at her in shocked silence.
Oh.
Nine survivors out of a hundred. That's not a good number.
Again. Why did get a second chance?
I took a deep breath to calm myself.
"Merlin. You are a smart one, right?"
She raised her eyebrows, "Indeed I am. Even smarter than you."
Ignoring the obvious jab I asked her, "What are my odds of surviving three years here?"
"Seeing how weak you are. I must say it's pretty abysmal.", she quickly replied without a pause.
Man. That was a critical hit to my confidence. Seeing my dismayed expression, her eyes softened.
"If you don't want to be skewered like a kebab by a daemon, you better start getting stronger. Haema is a powerful strand and you will be a lethal force if you master it."
"You have excellent ardor control. Use that to strengthen your body and control your strand. After three years, the person who will come back from the Shield will be very different from what you currently are."
She narrowed her eyes, "And may even pose a threat to the Kingdom."
I gulped. Even without releasing aura or bloodlust, her gaze is enough to overwhelm me.
"But we'll cross that bridge when it comes.", she turned around, "Well. All of this is in the assumption that you will survive for three years in this hell."
"But if you do, then I will be waiting for you in Avalon. Plus I'll even let you land a punch on my face.", she gave me a smirk before walking away.
"Do whatever it takes to survive, Mordred. For I look forward to your death."
She stopped and gave me one final look, "Goodbye Mordred Pendragon. Prove me wrong. Show me that my future vision is defective."
With those words, she walked out of the general ward and her white hair disappeared in the darkness of the doorway.
I looked back at her retreating figure and realized something.
I forgot to convey Eravon's message to her.
Oops.