First, I examined Ashita’s broken horn.
Too much time has passed…
Reattaching a severed body part was always a race against the clock—the sooner, the better.
“Hmm…”
The scraps of skin still clinging to it were useless, already starting to rot. But if the horn truly counted as bone, then—just maybe—there was hope.
At least, that was my assessment. That bastard Dietrich wasn’t offering me any guidance.
“I’ll have to shave a little. Is that alright?”
“Eh? Y-you mean…”
“Just the skin. I won’t touch the horn itself. Is that a problem?”
“If it’s just that…”
Ashita gave a tiny nod of relief.
I took the bucket Zoë had brought and blessed the water until it gleamed pure—instant holy water. Good for drinking, washing wounds, and even warding off corruption if strengthened further. For now, this would do.
I washed the horn thoroughly, then the raw wound on her forehead where it once sat, scrubbing until it was as clean as I could make it.
“Too dark. Come closer.”
“Y-yeah…”
Blood still seeped faintly from the wound. A good sign. It meant the cells still lived—there was still a chance.
After I scraped away the rot and shaved off the useless flesh, I leaned in again.
“…”
The cut was unnaturally clean. If it had been jagged, sawn off by some crude blade, I’d have abandoned hope.
…Could it be Abby?
Ashita’s eyes shone, desperate, fixed on me.
“This might work. Come here.”
Her breath caught. She collapsed against me, clutching my legs.
“It won’t heal if you thrash around. It’s going to hurt. Bear it.”
She bit her lip, nodded once, then shoved her hand into her mouth to brace herself.
I sighed.
“Don’t go making new injuries while I’m fixing the old one, idiot.”
“Y-yes…”
Zoë, frowning, wrung out a cloth and stuffed it between Ashita’s teeth.
Preparation complete.
I pressed the horn hard against the wound on her forehead. Ashita groaned into the cloth, jaw trembling.
Then I called upon Asclepia’s Serpents.
Black snakes coiled around my arms. Divine power surged, emerald light spilling into the air.
“…Tch.”
Too slow. Maybe because too much time had passed. Maybe because bone resisted more than flesh. Either way, the healing crawled. I poured out more power, gritting my teeth.
“…”
At first, Ashita only trembled, enduring. But slowly, the strength drained from her face. The cloth slipped free, falling from her mouth.
Eva’s eyes went wide.
“N-no way. It’s… It’s fusing!”
The horn drank the emerald light, knitting itself back into her skull. Tears streamed down Ashita’s cheeks.
By the time it fully rejoined, I was completely exhausted.
Last night’s cold had already drained my reserves. Now, with every drop of power wrung dry, my body gave out.
A string inside me snapped, and darkness fell like a curtain.
◇◆
I think I was out for only a few minutes.
When I came to, Ashita was cradling me in her arms. Across from us, Zoë sat flat on the ground, staring.
Ashita whispered, low and fervent.
“…O’ great Asclepia, my thanks… This debt I will never forget. Even with ogre blood in my veins, I swear—I will protect…”
Her voice wavered in my dizzy ears, but the gratitude was clear.
What I didn’t understand was Zoë. She sat stunned, lips parted, glaring at Ashita like she was something monstrous.
“…Zoë?”
Normally clingy, quick with smiles and touches, she now wore a sharp-browed, fierce expression. Like a real demon.
But when I spoke, she blinked, smoothed her face, and rose with a smile.
“Di, you okay~?”
That syrupy drawl relieved me. That was the Zoë I knew.
Then it hit. Sweat drenched me. Dizziness swirled. My stomach heaved.
I shoved weakly at Ashita, but she refused to let go. She held me tighter.
I bent double and vomited. She didn’t flinch—just kept holding me.
And Zoë… only watched. Face unreadable, silent. Which made it worse.
The magic-drunkenness tore through me. I slurred nonsense, barely awake.
Through it all, Ashita never let me go. And Zoë never changed her eerie expression.
My vision blurred.
Clap, clap, clap. Abby stood there, smiling, applauding.
“…Di…”
Her words reached me faintly—orders for Zoë and Ashita. Both nodded.
Her face wavered in my vision as she spoke again. I nodded vaguely. She looked pleased.
Sure, I’d earn money. I always swore that.
Otherwise, my words meant nothing.
Otherwise, Zoë would leave.
Otherwise… I was just another useless meal-maker.
Another voice pulled me.
Eva knelt in the dirt, forehead pressed down, begging through tears.
She screamed, sobbed, and pleaded. Abby only laughed—swinging Eva’s severed tail like a trophy.
What a woman.
I forced my mind clear, just enough to catch Abby’s words. Her voice rang cold.
“Not a chance, meal-maker girl.”
Eva collapsed, broken.
I didn’t know the details. But I knew cruelty when I heard it. Get full chapters from N0v3l.Fiɾe.net
“Di needs trash bins. And you’ll always be just that. Trash.”
I laughed.
Mother Asclepia… you always loved jokes like this.
“Come on, meal-maker girl. A mountain of work is waiting.”
Another twist of fate. Another bitter punchline from the goddess.
No wonder Dietrich Becker kept running away.
Eva wailed, struggled. Abby grabbed her by the scruff and dragged her off.
The goddess’s jokes were always sharp. Always bitterly funny.
So I laughed, because there was nothing else to do.
And I would never change my philosophy.
Trash belongs in the trash bin.
When it was over, only a severed cat’s tail remained.