The sky had become grey again. It was morning, but there was no sunlight.

The knights and soldiers woke up for training and practice. Even in such a dangerous place, it was their morning routine to train themselves.

In one of the tents, which had been set up as a medical facility, a young man lay on a bed inside. His breathing was calm.

His consciousness returned slowly, like surfacing from deep, suffocating water. At first, there was only darkness. Then came light.

A blurred shape hovered above him, pale and unfamiliar. As his vision struggled to focus, the shape sharpened into fabric stretched tightly overhead.

A tent ceiling.

"…Huh…?"

The sound barely left his throat. He tried to move. The moment he did, sudden pain exploded through his body.

A sharp, burning agony shot through his chest, his arms, his legs. Everywhere at once. His breath hitched as a low groan escaped him.

"—!"

His muscles locked, refusing to obey. It felt as though his body had been tied tightly by some unseen force that refused to let him move.

Only then did he notice the weight.

Bandages.

His arms were wrapped thickly, white cloth faintly stained dark in places. His torso felt tight, held beneath layers of bindings. Even his legs were bound, from thigh to calf.

Amon swallowed hard.

"…I'm alive…?" The first words he uttered were about being alive.

He had lost hope of surviving after seeing Vikara. But miraculously, he survived.

Amon's throat was dry, his voice hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in days. He forced his head to turn slightly.

The inside of the tent came into view. Simple canvas walls, reinforced poles, faint light filtering through the window-shaped openings in the tent. The air smelled of herbs, metal, and damp earth.

A military tent.

He blinked slowly, trying to piece things together.

He had been fighting a demon. He had even killed him. Then his comrade came, another demon. After that, all his memories were hazy. He didn't remember anything: how he survived or how he came here.

His heart thudded unevenly in his chest.

"So… this is where I ended up…"

Relief washed over him. He closed his dark eyes and relaxed, then opened them again.

He didn't know who had saved him. But seeing that they had healed and treated him, they were clearly not enemies.

For now, he simply lay there, staring at the tent ceiling, breathing shallowly but alive, battered, and surrounded by questions he wasn't yet strong enough to ask.

After a while, someone entered the tent.

"Oh! You woke up. I thought you would take more time to wake up." A male voice came from the entrance of the tent. It belonged to a man in his late twenties. He had curly brown hair and hazel eyes that looked at Amon calmly. His face was better than average.

Amon thought the man was not more handsome than him.

The man was wearing a dark olive-green military uniform that belonged to the army of his own country, the Kingdom of Valmoria. Over it, he wore a white lab coat.

'So they are from my country… Oh goodness, I am saved. I am safe,' Amon thought. Now he had more chances to go back.

The man strode toward Amon's bed. There was a stool beside it. He sat down, folding his hands, and looked at Amon with a calm gaze.

Amon didn't say anything. He just waited for the man to speak.

"It seems you are fine… I mean, you are fine mentally. My name is Brey Clark. I am the healer here. Basically, the Medical Corps is under me."

Amon somehow spoke. "I am… Amon Vale."

"I know that," Brey responded immediately. Most people here knew his name, since they had also been tasked with finding Amon Vale during their expedition.

Amon was surprised to hear that.

Seeing his expression, Brey explained, "A small number of army units were dispatched here, to this island, for a mission. During that time, we got information about you. How you somehow ended up in this cursed place during the ambush on the Academy. We were tasked to search for you if we found any sign during our exploration."

Amon just nodded slightly. 'Was… I always this important? Nah… Headmistress Isabel wouldn't abandon any student of hers, even if he's just a nobody. A commoner.'

"Well, I will check up on you. I think you will be able to move freely by tomorrow." Brey got up from his seat to change Amon's bandages and check his health, in case there was anything wrong.

"Thank you for saving me." Still lying on the bed with bandages, Amon didn't forget to express his gratitude.

Brey smiled while unbinding a bandage on his leg. "You don't need to thank me. I am just doing my job. If you want to thank someone, then it should be the commander. You can meet him once you can move, or he might come to see you."

"Oh… still, thank you. I mean, you treated me," Amon spoke again with gratitude.

This time, Brey just smiled gently.

Amon lay there with his eyes closed. Finally, he was safe.

Brey Clark had just left the tent, telling Amon to rest and not move too much.

"I am safe…" he muttered. Even now, it felt weird. He was not alone. After more than two weeks, he had finally talked to someone.

'Wait! The first person I talked to after two weeks was a demon… damn, what bad luck,' Amon thought bitterly. If not for meeting those demons, he might have been in much better condition and met these people earlier.

"By the way, what is today's date?" he wondered. He had never thought much about dates or time, because they were hardly important.

He tried to clench his fist.

Clench.

At least he could move that much. Now he wondered how long it would take for him to go back. Brey had told him that something would come for him, but he didn't know when.

That was something the commander might know.

'I will ask him tomorrow.'

He closed his eyes to sleep again. Just then, he remembered something.

His eyes snapped open.

'Wait, I broke through! How could I forget that!'

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