Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem-Chapter 631: Misery of War
As I stepped into the infirmary, a certain rabbit girl's head snapped in my direction. Her eyes were red thanks to all the tears she shed. Next to her, numerous beastkin lay on the floors, dead. The sheepkin that had the Healer class to their names were working hard, but a lot of people were dying even still.
The chase given to us by the necromancer army left most of the survivors in horrible shape.
BunBun rushed at me the moment our eyes met. Her small, fragile frame collided with mine as she wrapped her arms tightly around my waist. She instantly buried her face into my stomach while her body trembled with badly suppressed sobs.
"BunBun's friends are dying!" she wailed with a cracking voice. Her ears drooped miserably while her fingers clutched onto my clothes with so much strength it made it seem as if letting go would shatter her world completely.
I sighed before wrapping my arms around her in return. There wasn't much I could say to ease her pain. The infirmary was filled with the scent of blood and misery.
All around us, the wounded moaned in agony. The birdkin who served as aerial mounts during the battle were in the worst shape because most of the undead attacks hit them instead of their riders. Some lay motionless, so much so their chests were barely rising, while others clutched at their ruined limbs. While their injuries varied from person to person, all of their eyes were clouded with pain and disbelief.
Our survival could be said to be a monumental victory in the grand scheme of things. I'm sure the beastkin leaders will tout it as such. However, for the soldiers who had to do the actual act of surviving, it felt anything but a grandiose victory. They watched the mighty bearkin warriors get run over without being able to offer much of a resistance, and then their comrades were pulled from the skies, plummeting to their miserable deaths. If they weren't lucky enough to get killed by the impact, the awaiting horde ripped them apart.
Their riders, mostly foxkin and dogkin, had fared only a little better. Many were still screaming. Based on their hoarse voices, most of their troubles arose from mental trauma more so than physical pain.
The Healers, who were just a handful of sheepkin, worked desperately to save whoever they could. Just like dogkin and the other non-apex beastkin, they heavily resembled humans. While apexes seemed like some upgraded hybrids, non-apexes were humans with a few quirky features, or so it appeared to me.
As such, these sheepkin seemed to only differ from humans thanks to their ears and horns. Their big, wide eyes also resembled a peaceful herbivore more so than humans. Furthermore, I guessed they had tails as well, but I couldn't say for certain because of their priestly robes hiding them.
The sheer number of wounded, the unbearable cries, the scent of death—this was a level of devastation I hadn't witnessed before. I did massacre a lot of people in my short time spent in the magical world of Thalorind, but I was never there to witness the traumatized state of the survivors. It was an ugly sight.
My gaze drifted to Seraphiel who stood nearby with her arms crossed. I must have been staring too strongly because she scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"… Come on, how horrible of a woman do you think me to be? Do you seriously think I finished healing the important targets and then went for a dip with you? I helped the survivors until my mana ran out. The sheepkin have an innately high mana regeneration, that's why they can keep at it for longer than me. All that is to say… the Goddess gave me the Healer class for a good reason! My heart is made of gold, I'm an innocent, pure maiden."
I shook my head at her sarcasm, but there was truth in her words. Seraphiel must've done her part. Despite her being a cheeky girl, she had a good heart.
I turned my attention back to the rabbitkin clinging to me. "War never ends well for either side… But you should hold your head high, BunBun, for you are fighting on the good side. The tyranny of the lionkin must be eradicated for balance to be restored."
BunBun sniffled, but she nodded her understanding.
As I comforted the heartbroken rabbit girl, my gaze drifted across the infirmary once more, only to land on something that made my heart skip a beat.
A woman. Or rather, what was left of her.
Her torso lay on a bloodied bedsheet, completely detached from any limbs. No arms, no legs. And yet… she was breathing—her torso rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. Her skin was sickly and thin, stretched tightly over sharp bones.
Over her, Ignis stood watch, guarding our fallen enemy.
Next to the necromancer, Raika lay on a separate cot. Her eyelids parted upon sensing our approach. She turned her head with great difficulty, and before she could speak, another presence entered the scene.
Vex. The middle disciple moved swiftly to her fallen junior's side. Not with worry… but amused smugness.
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"How are you holding up?" Vex asked after crouching down beside her.
"Can't move," Raika grunted frustratedly. She was not a woman of many words, never has been, but her current attitude was more annoyed than usual.
I couldn't help but get the feeling she was mad at herself for getting injured. I had to chuckle inwardly at the mere thought. This amazing warrioress straight-up fell from the clouds. And that was the least of it—she deliberately fell with as much momentum as she could generate before hitting the necromancer. Her being alive was already an incredible feat of power, but being awake already was an even bigger one. Yet she was mad at herself…
"Oh… how unfortunate." A mischievous smirk spread across Vex's face. She pulled out an inked feather pen and, with the grace of a master at work, began doodling on Raika's face.
Raika's eyes widened in utter outrage. "Stop!" she hissed in a sharper voice than I ever heard her use before, but her body remained limp, unable to resist.
Vex, of course, ignored her. She hummed a quiet tune as she worked, dragging the feather tip across Raika's flawless features with graceful motions of her delicate hand.
"Duel!"
