Chapter 16: Labor with Better Marketing

Maela did not let Zishan enjoy the attention for very long.

After the Griffin disappeared toward the eastern battlefield and peace finally returned to the medical station, she grabbed him by the shoulder, turned him away from the crowd, and pointed toward what remained of one of the rear tents.

"You’re resting until Commander Holtz comes back," she told him, leaving no room for argument. "You’ve exhausted most of your Mana, you have bruises everywhere, and somehow you think wrapping yourself in a piece of tent makes you properly dressed. I don’t care how much faster those wounds of yours are healing. Sit down, recover, and for once in your life, don’t do anything stupid!"

Zishan looked down at the torn canvas wrapped around his upper body, then back at her. "I think this actually looks pretty good. It’s giving me that mysterious wandering hero appearance."

"It makes you look homeless."

"Heroes can be homeless, though."

Maela stared at him for several seconds. Then, she figured that continuing the conversation would probably cost her more energy than maintaining the barrier had. She rubbed her forehead and glanced toward the eastern horizon, where distant flashes of magic could still occasionally be seen beyond the ruined field.

"When Commander Holtz returns, I’ll speak with him about you," she continued. "Someone who can move the way you do, heal people, and somehow fight a Level 50 Griffin despite being Level 10 shouldn’t be wasting his time carrying crates around the rear line. I would rather have you somewhere useful on the battlefield."

Zishan’s eyebrows rose. "Wait, you’re actually sending me toward the place where people are trying to kill each other?"

"I said I would speak with Commander Holtz. He’s still your commanding officer, and he may have other arrangements for you," Maela replied.

"Good. I like his arrangements already."

"You don’t even know what they are."

"Exactly. As long as they involve me being very far away from swords, arrows, explosions, angry birds, and whatever else this world considers normal, I’m willing to trust his judgment."

Maela’s eyes narrowed. "You rammed a piece of wood beneath that Griffin’s tail, laughed while she chased you around the station, and still called her a bird brain afterward, so don’t suddenly pretend you’re completely against battlefield violence."

Zishan opened his mouth, but Maela kept looking at him in a way that made several possible excuses die before they reached his tongue. He still tried regardless.

"First of all, the wood was tactical. Second, everything I yelled at that Griffin was psychological warfare. And third, I was under extreme emotional pressure, so anything I screamed during that fight should not be treated as legally binding evidence of who and what I am."

Maela stared at him for several seconds before pinching the bridge of her nose. "I genuinely don’t know whether you’re trying to defend yourself or making my argument stronger."

Zishan gave her a thoughtful look, as though she had raised a genuinely complicated philosophical question. "I think there’s a very fine line between those two things, and right now I’m choosing to believe I’m standing on the correct side of it."

Maela looked as though she regretted ever letting him anywhere near the medical station in the first place. "Just rest."

"Finally!"

"And arrange the remaining medical inventory while you do it."

Zishan’s face immediately collapsed.

"..."

"That’s not resting at all!" Zishan protested, staring at the pile of supplies Maela had just assigned him. "You can’t tell somebody to recover and then immediately give him work. That’s just labor with better marketing."

Maela did not even bother looking back at him. "Compared to fighting a Griffin, sorting inventory counts as rest. Sit down, stop complaining, and use your hands for something else other than provoking a magic beast!"

Before Zishan could explain that the very definition of rest had apparently been murdered somewhere in Cyrune, Maela had already turned around and walked toward a group of healers repairing one of the treatment tents.

Zishan watched her leave with betrayal written across his face before muttering, "Old people really do abuse their authority."

"I heard that!"

He immediately looked away and started whistling all of a sudden.

The inventory tent was still standing, which already made it one of the luckier parts of the medical station. One side had collapsed inward, and several boxes had been knocked open during the Griffin’s attack. Bandages and medicine bottles were scattered across the floor with dried herbs, spare clothes, food, and a bunch of things Zishan had absolutely no idea how to identify.

Seeing the sprawled clothes, he felt abused as he remembered the stinky underwear that slapped his face. ’Ew! I feel like vomiting right now!’

He stopped at the entrance of the tent and stared at the mess. He wanted to cry, but no tears would come out of him as he stared at the mess Maela had ordered him to arrange.

Ollie, the little boy from before, followed him inside while carrying a wooden box that looked almost too large for him.

His bright blue hair was still a little messy from everything that had happened, with a few strands sticking against his forehead, while his big green eyes remained fixed on Zishan as though he was afraid of losing sight of him. With both small arms wrapped around the box and his cheeks puffing slightly from the effort, he looked far too cute to be helping clean up after a Griffin attack.

Ever since introducing himself a few minutes ago, Ollie had barely moved more than a few steps away from Zishan. He kept hovering nearby with the same ridiculous amount of admiration in his eyes.

Zishan was beginning to wonder whether saving the boy had somehow created a tiny follower without the System bothering to notify him.

"You don’t have to help me, you know," Zishan said as he lowered himself onto an overturned crate. "Didn’t you almost get caught in that attack earlier? You should rest first."

After all, he truly believed it must’ve been quite traumatic for Ollie to experience that kind of thing. No child would be fine after that.

Ollie carefully lowered the wooden box beside Zishan, bending his knees a little because it was obviously heavier than he wanted to admit. Once he put it on the ground safely, he straightened up and brushed both hands against his clothes before looking at Zishan with those same bright green eyes.

"I’m doing fine, sir! I just want to help because you saved me. You carried me away when that Magic Beast was about to get me, so it wouldn’t feel right if I just sat around while you’re working," Ollie said.

Zishan stared at him for a moment. The boy was still small enough that the top of his head barely reached Zishan’s upper abdomen; his bright blue hair was sticking out in several directions from the attack, and there was still a little dirt on one cheek that Ollie apparently hadn’t noticed.

Somehow, despite nearly dying, Ollie was standing there with both small fists tightly clenched on his sides, looking so determined that helping Zishan had become the most important mission of his life.

"You know saving you doesn’t mean you’ve entered some kind of lifelong service contract with me, right?" Zishan asked. "You can actually go sit down somewhere, eat something, and recover after what happened."

Ollie shook his head so quickly that his messy blue hair bounced with it. "But I want to help! Healer Maela told you to rest, right? If I bring everything over here, then you don’t have to keep standing up and walking around."

Zishan stared at him.

That actually made sense.

"Little Ollie," he said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. "I want you to know that you’re demonstrating an extraordinary level of intelligence for someone your age."

Ollie’s large green eyes immediately brightened. "Really?"

"Absolutely. You’re already making my life easier, which automatically puts you above a lot of people I’ve met today."

"I can hear you!" Maela shouted from somewhere outside.

Zishan glanced toward the entrance before lowering his voice. "See? Hostility."

Ollie nodded seriously.

Zishan stayed seated while Ollie brought the scattered supplies over. He checked them one by one and placed them with whatever seemed to belong together, occasionally asking Ollie whenever he had no idea what he was holding. He could’ve used Appraisal, but with barely any Mana left, wasting it on random boxes and supplies seemed stupid.

Then, he picked up a small gray crystal among the supplies. A faint light glowed inside it.

Zishan turned it between his fingers. "What the hell is this?"

Ollie stared at him. Zishan stared back.

"Sir Zishan..."

"Just Zishan. ’Sir’ makes me feel like I have so many responsibilities."

Ollie hesitated before pointing at the crystal. "That’s a Gray Magic Stone."

"Okay."

"..."

Silence.

Ollie’s expression gradually changed. "You... don’t know what a Gray Magic Stone is?"