novelraw Chapter 237 : Chapter 237
Chapter 237 : Chapter 237
Volume 4, Chapter 25 – Repaying Kindness
Dark red-black blood splattered everywhere. Spears ripped open bellies. Severed limbs and torn organs lay strewn about the ground like worthless trash. In this grotesque painting, life was the cheapest commodity; blood nothing more than a common liquid.
Teresa was reminded of a phrase from her previous life: every human organ was worth a fortune, yet in times of war, when all those organs came together, they were worth less than a stray dog on the street.
The Beastmen hacking each other apart in the sunken ground had gone blood-crazed. They chopped arms when they saw arms, hacked legs when they saw legs, cleaved heads when they saw heads—without the slightest hesitation despite being of the same race.
Teresa, ever observant, noted how easily distinguishable the two groups were—just like the last time in the forest.
One side fought shirtless, wearing only strips of cloth for modesty. The other side wore full armor.
The armored Beastmen were visibly stronger and clearly more experienced in battle.
And yet, the nearly naked Beastmen did not back down. Their weapons were stolen, their armor coverage nearly nonexistent. In wars where Divine Authority and magic weren’t involved, armor still played a crucial role.
Despite their inferior equipment and combat power, the ragged Beastmen fought toe-to-toe with the armored ones—because they possessed something the better-equipped didn’t.
A death-defying courage, and a hatred so deep it couldn’t be extinguished.
Fueled by these two forces, the weak surged forward, fearless, desperate to drag down one armored warrior with them—or at least land a few hits before dying.
In war, morale was everything. When one side began to fear the other, the tide would inevitably turn.
Indeed, the ragged Beastmen outnumbered the armored ones. But more importantly, they were suicidal in their assault. The armored warriors, in contrast, showed hesitation, unable to meet the suicidal fervor head-on.
These slaves were normally slow and useless. Why were they suddenly so vicious in battle??
That was what shocked the armored Beastmen.
They didn’t understand—how could a bunch of slaves, looked down on and half-starved daily, go toe-to-toe with their elite troops?
Soon, the armored Beastmen couldn’t hold out any longer and began to fall back.
After all, their lives were valuable. How could they trade them one-for-one on such a battlefield??
Overly cautious, overly concerned for their own safety, their hands were tied. Without waiting for orders, the armored Beastmen began to rout. The commanding officer stood behind them, waving a command blade, shouting things like “Anyone who retreats will be executed!” but no one listened.
In the end, this officer was trampled by his own retreating troops.
Thanks to a Beastman’s strong vitality, he didn’t die on the spot. But by the time he realized all his subordinates had fled, he had already been captured by the shirtless Beastmen.
The battle was over, leaving behind a mess of dismembered limbs and bloodshed. And yet, such brutal battles would play out countless times across this savage land.
For Sun-Moon Radiance, there was both bad news and good news.
The bad news: the fight was over, and the victorious Beastmen had begun clearing the battlefield—spotting them on the ridge.
The good news: these Beastmen weren’t like the ones they’d encountered before. They didn’t immediately attack at the sight of elves or humans.
Instead, when they noticed outsiders, they looked on with wary eyes, then instinctively formed up around one of their own—shirtless, bald, with a few chicken feathers stuck in his head. This seemed to be their leader. After hearing the report, he glanced up and spotted the Sun-Moon Radiance group, then said something to his troops.
Soon after, the Beastmen hastily cleared the battlefield, collected usable weapons and armor, reformed their ranks, and began retreating directly under the group’s watchful eyes.
These Beastmen were clearly different. They showed little hostility toward outsiders—possibly to avoid being flanked, or because they didn’t want to provoke a mysterious third party.
Once they determined that the humans and elves posed no real threat and had no intention of fighting, they withdrew while protecting their main force.
Astrid was visibly surprised.
Beastmen, upon catching the scent of elves, usually acted on primal impulse—harassing and attacking. Yet these ones didn’t.
Soon, the Beastmen had vanished without a trace, leaving only broken corpses and unstripped armor and weapons.
Clearly, they were avoiding further conflict. Fighting the armored Beastmen had already depleted their strength—engaging a third faction now would be unwise.
Felicia glanced at Teresa, clearly asking for her opinion.
Teresa’s answer was concise: follow them.
Getting too close could provoke suspicion or conflict. Best to stay at a distance—just enough to keep their tails in sight.
Reckless pursuit would draw attention. Teresa planned to wait until the Beastmen were sure they weren’t being chased, until they relaxed and returned to their camp, before moving in.
“W-We’re really going to follow them, meow?” Wenfu asked nervously upon hearing Teresa’s plan.
Though these Beastmen weren’t as scary as the armored ones, they were still Beastmen.
The idea of chasing them down was something Wenfu couldn’t accept. But when she looked at the three elves in the group—none of whom objected—she realized the world had changed.
From being hunted by Beastmen, elves had become the ones doing the hunting.
Moments later, the five followed the Beastman force.
The Beastmen, burdened with many wounded, moved slowly—even using stretchers to carry the injured—making it easy to catch up.
Once within visual range, the team maintained a safe distance—far enough to avoid being noticed or provoking them.
After tracking them for some time, from behind a large boulder, Teresa and the others saw the Beastmen retreat into a crude wooden fort.
It was hastily constructed, very “Beastman-style.” The walls were patched together with wooden stakes and heaps of random junk—focused solely on defense, not appearance.
After bringing in the wounded, a separate group of Beastmen came out to receive them. They pulled alchemy potions from sacks piled near the edge of the camp and began treating the injured.
“Those potions—they must’ve taken them from other factions. They clearly can’t make them themselves,” Teresa muttered to herself, watching with her keen elven eyes.
“And… they’re the lowest-grade kinds. Some are even being used incorrectly.”
“Teresa?” The others waited for her next move—until they saw her rise from behind the rock and walk out into the open.
“What are you doing?”
“Wait here. I’ll go alone.”
“What are you saying?” Seeing her march straight toward the Beastman camp, they were all confused.
“Leave this to me.”
“…Alright.” Though unsure what Teresa intended, Astrid chose to trust her, seeing the calm, confident smile on her lips.
Inside the camp, the Beastmen were busy. The chicken-feathered leader had gone to report to the main chief, while the rest tended to be wounded and handled loot.
Given their poor equipment, it was a fight of stone against steel. Their casualties were naturally heavier than the trained, well-equipped army.
One warrior, struck in the artery and losing blood fast, was rushed to the medics. They administered a recovery potion—but it had no effect. The bleeding wouldn’t stop. If not for the Beastman’s tenacity, he might’ve died en route.
The medical team was visibly panicked. Though they often won, their lack of proper medicine and skill meant many wounded were lost.
“Sir Beastman, that won’t work. It’s an external wound. While recovery potions help, they’re not meant for this. You need to stabilize the injury first.”
A voice like a harp playing in the woods gently cut through their panic.
Startled, the Beastmen turned to see a golden-haired elf girl standing in their camp.
“Rrragh!!” They growled in fury. Teresa’s uninvited presence had clearly angered them.
Guards arrived with spears, snarling and baring teeth—so frightening that Wenfu would’ve fainted in terror.
“Forgive my intrusion. I mean no harm,” Teresa said calmly, hand on her chest, voice serene like heaven’s chorus.
Still, the Beastmen surrounded her, weapons raised, shielding their wounded.
They weren’t about to listen to explanations from an intruding foreigner.
Realizing words were useless, Teresa chose action. She glanced down at the wounded warrior groaning near her feet.
Her fingers drew forth a strand of green light.
The Beastmen gasped. They recognized Divine Authority. Though unsure what Teresa’s power was, they dared not approach.
She peeled the outer layer off a tender green sprout and placed the core on the Beastman’s wound.
“Rrragh!!” The Beastmen roared, thinking she meant to harm their comrade—until a voice barked out from the large central tent.
The shout froze everyone. Heavy footsteps followed.
Out came a massive green Beastman, taller and more muscular than most. A long scar ran across his face, one eye milky and blind.
He scanned the group with his good eye and barked more orders.
Then, his gaze locked onto Teresa, clearly issuing a command.
Teresa understood.
The peeled green sprout had already begun working.
It grew over the wound, sealing it shut. The bleeding stopped. The Beastman stabilized.
The warriors around him were dumbfounded.
“If you don’t have bandages, use bark or vines instead—but coat them with this alchemy potion first.” Teresa pulled out a clear vial from her storage pouch.
Her [Verdant Fragrance] sprouts had no impurities and even had disinfectant properties. Ordinary vines didn’t and could cause infection.
The chief was silent for a moment, then barked another command. The warriors backed off, lowering their weapons.
Teresa summoned a few more strands of green light.
Soon, the bleeding of the severely wounded was under control. Minor wounds were cleaned and treated.
She even handed out some of her high-grade alchemy potions.
“Elf… I don’t know what your intentions are. But I thank you for what you’ve done.”
“Hm?” Teresa brushed her bangs aside, slightly surprised.
“You… can speak?”
She quickly corrected herself. “Sorry—I mean, you speak the human language?”
“I learned a bit. Not fluent. But if you understand, it’s enough.” The chief’s scarred face looked intimidating, but he spoke practically.
He glanced at the wounded being treated with Teresa’s potions.
“You call us ‘Beastmen,’ right?”
“We Beastmen repay kindness. I don’t care what your goal is. If you ever need help—within reason—I won’t refuse.”
“There’s no such thing as a free meal. I know that.”
“I don’t want repayment, sir Beastman.”
“Oh? Elf lady—are you looking down on me, then?” The massive Beastman seemed strangely stubborn.