Bermuda

"Don't you remember?"

At the counter-question, Leonardo nodded with a puzzled expression. As he stared blankly, wondering what had happened, Hugo met his eyes, then turned his head away without saying anything.

"...Let's talk about that later. So, can we consider that there are no problems with the nervous system or heart function?"

The fact that he asked if Leonardo didn’t remember clearly meant something had happened. But refusing to answer and arbitrarily postponing it made Leonardo look at Hugo with bewildered eyes. However, as he said, there was still a lot to hear, and Hugo’s profile gave the impression that he was somehow avoiding the topic, so Leonardo didn't press the issue.

He couldn’t stop suspicion from arising, though. Leonardo’s mind recalled the image of himself choking his own neck amid erupting volcanic debris.

'Could it be... was I about to go berserk again?'

Wondering if that was why the Commander and the medical officer avoided answering, Leonardo retraced his hazy memories with a stiffened face. However, as if the film had been cut, there were no scenes he could recall at all. It was like a blank sheet, as if someone had intentionally cut the memory out.

Just as he bit his lip out of habit from anxiety, Hugo’s arm suddenly approached and gently wrapped around his lower back. As the large hand grasped his left forearm and lightly rubbed it, Leonardo glanced down at his arm and then turned his eyes to Hugo beside him.

Although he didn’t know what it meant, he sensed an intention to reassure him in the caressing touch. Somehow, it felt as if Hugo’s voice whispering "It's okay" was lingering in his ear.

The medical officer, who had been observing the two, cleared his throat and flipped a couple of pages of the medical report. Then, after reading about three lines, he clicked his tongue and carefully answered Hugo’s earlier question, as if it were somewhat tricky.

"Just because the neural responses are good doesn't mean we can be certain there are no problems with the body. We need to conduct several follow-up tests and observe the progress for at least two weeks, and confirm the elimination of toxins and blood viscosity through blood tests to give a proper answer."

The moment he heard the words "blood test," Leonardo’s shoulders tensed. Hugo, sensing this through his fingertips, asked the officer again.

"Is there an alternative testing method to drawing blood? Preferably something simple."

"Well... For the nervous system, we can do some testing just by checking pupil response and the ability to follow instructions... but simplifying the heart-related tests would be somewhat unreasonable."

"..."

"Now, when consciousness has returned and the body has just started metabolizing, is the best time to judge the degree of heart function recovery. However, if blood viscosity is high, the heart will have to work harder than usual for smooth circulation, which could lead to misdiagnosis of the condition or failure to detect problems that need to be caught early. There's also a risk of other cardiovascular diseases."

Although he spoke in a roundabout way, in short, it meant that drawing blood was unavoidable.

After hearing the answer, Hugo glanced down at Leonardo. Judging by his noticeably stiffened expression, he clearly had an aversion to that examination method.

'It's probably not that he's afraid of seeing blood.'

It wasn't a thought that could be applied to someone who had been a soldier, and who had engaged in a fierce, bloody battle with the mother body until just recently. He also considered the possibility of post-traumatic stress disorder like aichmophobia, but that too wasn't rational given the premise.

As he followed the thread of his thoughts, Hugo suddenly recalled Leonardo’s strong resistance when collecting mana in the Central Branch hospital earlier. He remembered having similar doubts then, and Leonardo’s reaction now—seeming to fear something—made him reconsider the connection between mana collection and blood drawing.

'...Anyway, it doesn't seem like he'll comply willingly.'

As Hugo and Leonardo fell silent at the same time, the medical officer, judging that his point had been sufficiently conveyed, turned another page of the medical report he was holding. Then, this time focusing his gaze on Leonardo, he asked him directly.

"Blaine, do you know of a plant called 'Mendelias'?"

Leonardo, who had been staring at the floor with a serious expression, raised his eyes at ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) the familiar name.

"Mendelias?"

"Have you consumed that plant or any food containing its components within the past ten days? It's a plant that usually grows near animal carcasses or graves, and it smells so foul—almost rotten—that you probably wouldn't forget if you had eaten it."

At the medical officer's question, one of Hugo’s eyebrows rose as well. He knew pretty much everything that had gone into Leonardo’s mouth in the past ten days. Not only had no such plant existed among them, it also didn’t seem likely Leonardo would have put an unhygienic plant growing near graves in his mouth.

However, Leonardo showed a rather tense expression.

Of course, he couldn’t not know. It was the plant that Nero had forcibly fed him.

"...I have. Why?"

Leonardo asked back, examining the officer’s expression with a subtle gaze. At this unexpected answer, Hugo turned to look at him. The officer, confirming that his thought was correct, smiled with satisfaction and said:

"I thought so. The components of that plant are quite strong, so it seems you experienced nervous system paralysis symptoms along with body shock. With your body already weakened, and with Mendelias' antibacterial properties added on, your body's antibodies couldn't handle it."

The medical officer reported that during the surgery, Leonardo’s blood showed a reaction as if the components of Mendelias and Degalianif had collided.

He explained that the way Mendelias is used as an antidote is by suppressing existing toxins with stronger components, preventing the poison from spreading and acting in the body. So while it’s secretly known as a miracle drug, its side effects are also extremely severe, preventing it from being used openly.

Leonardo was well aware of this fact. However, it was the first time he had heard the components were strong enough to cause shock, so he inwardly grumbled at Nero for feeding him something that could have almost killed him.

However, the medical officer's final opinion suggested a completely different direction from his thoughts.

"Still, you can consider that you're alive and well now thanks to consuming Mendelias. Without it, the poison would have already spread throughout your body, making survival unlikely even with treatment, and there would have been no way to save your left arm except amputation."

The officer smiled broadly while saying this chilling information, mentioning that it would receive great attention if reported to the academic world.

Leonardo stared blankly at the officer with wide eyes at this unexpected conclusion. Then he unconsciously clenched and unclenched his left fist repeatedly. He suddenly wanted to check whether it was moving properly.

'Thanks to that plant?'

As he mulled over the officer’s words, he recalled how he had resisted eating it at the time. He and Nero had both been exhausted from the physical struggle then, but if he hadn’t been fed it even through those means, it could have really been a disaster.

As he reflected on the past, Leonardo’s mind gradually cleared, and the last scene he had seen before losing consciousness became vivid.

'Nero.'

Along with this, the image of that guy—who had disobeyed until the end even when told to leave, disguised as a Council member—flickered in his memory.

*****

The medical officer and medical team members left all at once after completing simple examinations and prescribing medication. Leonardo, who had just woken up, showed signs of fatigue, and it was also due to Hugo's order to conduct additional detailed examinations after returning.

Leonardo, not knowing the exact time of return, simply felt relieved that the examination date had been postponed. However, due to having his left arm in a cast and instructions to avoid actions that would strain his heart, he ended up confined in the cabin for a sort of recuperation that wasn't quite recuperation.

Leonardo, who had only heard from Hugo that the overall situation related to the peninsula was being wrapped up, was filled with thoughts about Nero—a concern that hadn’t been resolved at his level yet.

Honestly, he didn't think that guy, who had mixed in with the Council members and searched for him until the end, would have obediently returned to the military headquarters while he was unconscious. However, given that there was no particular talk about him, it seemed fortunate that his identity hadn't been discovered, or that no problems had arisen.

'But still, I feel uneasy somehow...'

"Blaine, eat quickly. You need to finish this to take your medicine."

Just as he was deeply lost in thought, Flynn, who had been watching him all along, called out to him.

Leonardo listlessly raised his head after stirring the soup with a spoon. Then, glancing down at the bowl in front of him, he looked at Flynn and replied grumpily.

"This tastes bad."

"...Of course it does, it's hospital food."

"You could at least add some salt. Isn't this completely bland? And why is this soup so bitter? What's in it?"

Leonardo complained as if he had been waiting for this. Flynn sighed and answered.

"Your internal organs are in bad shape, so you can't have food with salt or spices. Still, Lady Hareth heard you woke up and personally instructed her mansion's chef to make it with good ingredients. Try to eat a little, if only for her sake."

When Major Hareth was mentioned, he had nothing more to say. But it really tasted terrible, and for Leonardo, who already had no appetite, the soup in front of him was a torment.

However, he had to finish it all to go out and search for Nero.

Agrizendro, who had briefly left his seat, had firmly placed Flynn as a watchdog beside him, instructing him to make sure he emptied the bowl and took his medicine. It felt like he had returned to the time when he was interfered with at every turn during the early stages of the subjugation. Of course, the meaning of surveillance had changed significantly compared to then.

"..."

Finally, Leonardo lifted a spoonful of soup with a sour expression. Then, frowning and holding his breath, he shoved it into his mouth.

Just as he was trying to swallow it in one go, trying not to taste it, something he wanted to ask Flynn suddenly occurred to him.