Upon hearing Patriot's admission, Jeanne stared at the old gentleman in shock. Her brain felt like it had jammed; she simply couldn't process it.
Setting aside how he actually managed to make the Holy Water harm him, why would he use it to self-mutilate? It couldn't be that he wanted to give the enemy a false impression that he was injured, could it? Besides, that wasn't an impression—it was a grim reality.
What was the point? There were no enemy spies in the village, so this wouldn't exactly lure anyone into a false sense of security.
"So that's why you asked me for Holy Water last night! But what were you thinking, you old man? I thought you were actually done for!"
Jeanne wasn't the only one stunned. Yelena's ears turned a shade of red from sheer anger. She stomped her foot, her voice a mix of fury and fear as she demanded to know what was going on in Patriot's head.
Only Patriot could make the usually stoic and cold Yelena lose her temper to such a degree.
Patriot remained silent for a long time, eventually letting out a heavy sigh before explaining his reasoning to the group.
"I was indeed careless this time. I did not expect the reaction to be so severe. I only wished to test... how effective it truly is against the Sarkaz."
Patriot admitted his miscalculation. Because he had been in contact with the substance for some time without any strong adverse effects, he had grown complacent. Furthermore, his ancestral memories suggested that the Holy Water-enhanced weapons used by the Sankta were akin to being burned by fire—painful, but manageable.
This led him to assume that Holy Water wasn't that effective against Sarkaz, or at least no more damaging than it was to an Emperor's Blade.
What he didn't realize was that the effectiveness of Holy Water scales exponentially with its purity! Jeanne's Holy Water compared to the standard Sankta variety was like comparing a diamond to a lump of coal. While they might be made of the same "stuff" in a sense, trying to trade them at equal weight was a fool's errand.
Jeanne was also uncharacteristically annoyed. She understood that Patriot wanted to know the full extent of their "trump cards" before facing the Royal Court, but this wasn't the way to do it! At the very least, he should have called her over so she could fix things immediately if they went south.
"I'm right here! If I had been out of the village, who knows what would have happened?"
Jeanne wanted to scold him, but seeing the old man looking so uncharacteristically withered and mentally drained, she couldn't bring herself to be too harsh. He had a habit of carrying every burden himself—the stubbornness of the elderly, she supposed.
Beside them, Yelena took several deep breaths, trying to suppress her rage. The temperature in the immediate area dropped noticeably due to her mood. Fortunately, the people nearby had strong enough constitutions to withstand the sudden chill.
"Calm down, calm down. You know how the old man is. Put away the frost before someone gets frostbite..." Talulah urged, while secretly letting her own temperature rise to counter the cold.
Yelena stared at her "Old Man" for a long time but said nothing more. She knew his personality all too well. This wasn't the first time he'd put himself in harm's way; it was just the most severe instance in recent memory.
"I'll take Patriot back to rest. That process took a heavy toll on his spirit. Everyone else, carry on with your tasks. The old gentleman likely won't be making any public appearances for a couple of days."
Jeanne supported Patriot as they walked toward his quarters. It was evident he had lost his usual vigor; even his gait was unsteady. While she had healed the physical wounds, spiritual damage was a different beast entirely. It had to be mended with time.
She hoped he would recover before trouble arrived. Still, she had faith. Patriot was incredibly resilient, and she was confident he would return to health soon.
As Yelena watched her father leave, the nameless fire in her heart refused to die down. She turned her gaze toward Talulah and Mudrock.
"The two of you are planning to drill today, right? Do you mind if I join in?"
She needed a distraction, or she was certain she'd go right back into that room and start an argument with the old man—which wouldn't help his recovery.
"We don't mind at all. We'd welcome you..."
The two enthusiastically agreed. One was happy to have someone fill Jeanne's empty slot, and the other was just relieved she wouldn't have to spar against Jeanne. Mudrock knew very well that her mercenary group was no match for a Jeanne who could bring dragons into play.
Wait... strictly speaking, shouldn't I be older than her? Mudrock suddenly thought. Should Jeanne be calling me 'Sister'?
"You do not... need to support me. I am not so weak... that I cannot walk to my own room," Patriot muttered as Jeanne helped him along. He clearly wasn't used to being fussed over like this.
Luckily, Jeanne was strong enough to support his massive frame; even Yelena found it a struggle. In fact, if it weren't so socially awkward, Jeanne felt like she could probably just hoist him over her head and carry him back.
"You're a patient, so follow orders! Isn't that what you told us?"
Jeanne's retort silenced Patriot instantly. It was a line he had used many times before when scolding injured soldiers who tried to force themselves back onto the battlefield. He didn't expect it to be used against him. Being a man of few words, he chose to lapse into silence rather than argue.
"Commander! Commander, are you alright?"
The Shieldguards rushed over the moment they saw Patriot return. They clearly knew he had been seriously hurt. The only reason they hadn't swarmed Jeanne's location earlier was that Patriot had ordered them to stay at the camp.
Seeing him back, and seeing that his charred arm had returned to normal, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. They had been terrified; even they had never seen Patriot wounded like that. Though his voice had sounded normal at the time, the slight tremor in it told them the injury was grave.
"Patriot is fine, but he needs quiet rest! Everyone, clear the way. I'll explain the details later!"
Jeanne pushed through the wall of Shieldguards, wanting the worried soldiers to disperse. She wasn't a doctor, and since this was a spiritual issue, she figured a priest's touch—her own—was more appropriate than a medic's.
Once they were back in the somewhat messy room, Jeanne turned to Patriot.
"Alright, now you can tell me. Why did you do something so reckless? And how did you even get the Holy Water to attack you?"
She had created that water with her own will. Under normal circumstances, it shouldn't have harmed him at all, even if he drank it.
"I spent... the entire night... trying. I focused my mind... on how to harm you. I let my killing intent... flow for a whole night... before it took effect. For that... I should apologize to you."