Chapter 134 — Chronicle, Save Me
The remaining bandits were bound carefully—hands tied behind their backs, legs secured, weapons confiscated and piled aside. One by one, they were loaded into the empty cart meant for passenger. Now it would carry them instead—back to town, back to judgment.
Under Ivaline’s quiet instruction, Bubble moved among them.
“Heal only enough to stabilize,” Ivaline had said.
So she did.
Cuts sealed.
Bleeding stopped.
Broken ribs knit just enough to breathe.
No deaths.
But no strength left to resist either.
At first, Bubble’s hands trembled as she touched the wounded men. They were still bandits. Still enemies.
Then one of them whispered, hoarse, “Thank you.”
Another muttered weak gratitude.
Her fingers steadied.
Her chest swelled just a little.
Maybe… this isn’t so bad.
Helping didn’t feel wrong. Even if they were criminals.
Meanwhile, Nasha was pulled aside by two of the watchtower guards.
They were grinning.
“You kept your head better than some veterans.”
“That second shot? Clean. Real clean.”
They exchanged a look before asking, half-serious:
“You ever thought about joining the town guard?”
Paid work.
Structured training.
A future.
Nasha could only nod stiffly, adrenaline still buzzing in her veins. The image of her arrow striking flesh replayed in her mind.
This wasn’t hunting anymore.
But she had not frozen.
That mattered.
The village women emerged once danger passed.
They soothed the surviving horses, brushing shaking flanks, whispering soft apologies. Those too gravely injured were put down quickly and respectfully.
No waste.
Their meat would be prepared that evening.
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Even in violence, life continued.
When order finally returned, Ivaline called Nicole aside.
Away from the others.
Away from Bubble.
Nicole stared at the ground before she even spoke.
“….”
He knew.
He had moved without orders.
Left his assigned position.
Left Bubble exposed.
Disobeyed her.
Disobeyed the Silver Ward—someone he deeply admired.
The scolding was inevitable.
“…I’M SORRY, MISS SILVER WARD!”
Ivaline leaned back slightly at the volume.
“…For what?” she asked evenly.
“I acted against your orders! I left Bubble open to danger!”
His fists clenched at his sides.
“I—lost focus.”
“…Why did you do it?” she asked.
“Because Nasha was in danger!”
The answer came instantly.
No hesitation.
Nicole swallowed hard.
He had believed he was right.
But orders were orders.
Miss Silver Ward couldn’t be wrong.
“No,” Ivaline said.
He blinked. “Huh?”
“You made the correct decision.”
“…Eh?”
“If you hadn’t stepped in, Nasha would have been injured. That outcome would have been worse.”
Nicole stared at her, stunned.
Then—
“Hii.”
She raised one finger.
He froze instantly.
“One: you should have taken Bubble with you. Kept her within your defensive coverage.”
A second finger.
“Or two: ordered her to reposition behind solid cover before you moved.”
“…Ah.”
So simple.
The tension had narrowed his thinking.
A small hand lifted toward him.
Nicole braced.
Pat. Pat.
“…?”
Ivaline gently patted his head.
“Next time,” she said quietly, “think before you act. Understood?”
For a brief, suspended moment—
The world stopped.
Miss Silver Ward patted me?
“…YES! THANK YOU VERY MUCH!”
“Don’t shout.”
Pa.
“Bweh?!”
A light slap landed against his cheek. Not painful. Just enough to sting.
Nicole beamed like he had just received divine blessing.
Ivaline stared at him.
…That’s slightly concerning.
She decided to ignore it.
Meanwhile, Nicole made a solemn internal vow not to wash his head or cheek for at least three days.
…He absolutely should.
The last of the livestock was loaded—pigs and chickens secured into the rear cart.
Bandits were crammed into the first.
Extra supplies tied down tightly.
The village head even offered an additional horse to help pull the weight of prisoners.
The journey back to town was quiet.
Tired, but victorious.
They reached the gates just after sunset.
Reports were filed.
Prisoners handed over.
Merit recorded.
Additional credit was granted for capturing the bandit leader alive.
Guild staff were dispatched immediately to document the incident.
Mireya rushed over the moment she spotted them.
Her ears perked.
Her tail flicked happily.
“You’re all safe! Good! Good!”
She checked each of the three newbies personally before smiling at Ivaline.
“I’ll handle the paperwork. All of it. You just go rest.”
A small mercy.
Nothing happened.
At least—nothing physical.
Because the moment formalities ended—
Nicole.
Nasha.
Bubble.
Surrounded her.
The very thing she had feared before the raid.
Questions.
“So what was your first quest like?”
“Did you really fight a wild orc alone?”
“How long were you an adventurer?”
“Is ‘Silver Ward’ an official title or self-declared?”
“Can I touch your sword?!”
“Can I shake your hand?! Ah—mine are tied. Then can you slap me instead?”
Ivaline slowly turned.
The request had come from one of the bound bandits.
He stared at her with disturbingly sparkling eyes.
There was a pause.
PA!!!
The sound echoed through the guard station.
The bandit collapsed to the floor in bliss.
“THANK YOU VERY MUCH???”
“….”
“….”
“….”
Everyone—including the guards—stared in silence.
Ivaline’s eye twitched.
Inside, she screamed.
Chronicle. Save me.
“…I am attempting,” Chronicle replied.
He was not succeeding.
By the time she finally returned home, the emotional damage was complete.
She fell face-first onto her bed.
Did not remove her boots.
Did not change.
Passed out instantly.
Utter defeat.
Not by battle.
But by conversation.
“Talking…” she muttered faintly into her pillow, half-asleep, “is far worse than fighting.”
“….”
For once—
Chronicle did not argue.
He silently agreed.
