Chapter 12: Let Me Rub Your Back

When Rex rode to Wangfeng Fortress to find Aldo again, he was told by Aldo’s men that the Merchant Guild headquarters wanted him to return as quickly as possible, but they didn’t know why it was so urgent.

“Until the boss returns, we can’t start work either.”

Aldo’s men seemed to be heading to the town tavern at that moment and wanted to invite Rex, but he flatly refused.

“No need. Enjoy yourselves.”

For the next several days, no one came looking for him, and he enjoyed a rare period of leisure.

Even the weather in the North seemed to relent a bit; it was still cold, but at least it stopped snowing.

Rex got up early every day, took a walk around the Ancient Castle, and then did something Hilda didn’t quite understand.

He personally tilled the land with a hoe.

Over the past few days, he had turned over most of the abandoned farmland near the Ancient Castle.

The frozen soil was hard, requiring considerable force with every swing of the hoe, but he wasn’t in a hurry.

He turned over a little each day, as if doing something that required patience.

That morning, Rex squatted on the ridge, burying seeds one by one into the soil.

They were rye and seeds for a tuber crop called “winter root.”

He had to visit several stalls at the Wangfeng Fortress market to find them.

The seed merchant had pounded his chest, swearing these could sprout in frozen soil.

Rex was skeptical, but he had no other choice.

There were only a few types of crops that could grow in the North, and he bought some of each. The prices were outrageously high.

The North didn’t produce grain.

All edible things had to be transported from outside.

The shipping cost was higher than the value of the goods themselves.

He only sowed a small patch, not daring to plant too much.

He had no confidence whether these seeds would survive or if this land could grow anything at all.

The total rewards he had earned over the past half-month amounted to nearly one hundred thousand gold coins.

It sounded like a lot, but if he really poured it into the bottomless pit of the North, he wouldn’t even hear a splash.

Every single gold coin had to be spent where it mattered most.

Rex stood up and hammered his lower back.

He glanced back at the field behind him.

The rye seeds were already buried; now it was just a matter of waiting.

Waiting for them to sprout, to head out, to tell him if this land still had any hope.

“Can’t rush it,” he said to himself.

When he returned to the Ancient Castle, a familiar aroma wafted out.

Rex pushed open the door to find Hilda standing by the dining table, holding a golden-brown roasted wild pheasant.

The skin was crispy and glistening with oil.

The plate was accompanied by a few roasted potatoes and a small dish of wild berry jam.

“Did you buy that from the town?”

Rex asked, taking off his mud-stained coat.

Hilda shook her head and placed the plate on the table.

“The Old Hunter from before sent it over. He said he hunted it himself, as a small token of his appreciation.”

“That mountain pheasant?”

“Mhm.”

Rex sat down and cut a piece, putting it in his mouth.

The chicken was perfectly roasted—crispy on the outside, tender and juicy inside, with the spices thoroughly infused.

Under his guidance, Hilda had now mastered the art of cooking.

“Next time, remember to pay them,” Rex said.

Hilda tilted her head, not understanding.

“We can’t take things from people for free,” Rex explained.

“Their lives are already hard. We appreciate the sentiment, but we must pay them.”

“Understood.”

After finishing lunch, Rex didn’t rest and went out again.

Hilda stood at the door, watching him head towards the river, but didn’t follow.

She knew he had been thinking about that abandoned waterwheel for the past few days, probably wanting to find someone to repair it.

By the time Rex returned, it was almost dark.

Hilda was adding firewood by the fireplace.

Hearing the door, she turned her head, her hands pausing mid-action.

Rex stood at the entrance, soaked to the bone.

His hair was plastered to his face, water still dripping from his clothes.

Large parts of his clothing had already frozen over, glinting coldly in the lamplight.

His lips were slightly pale, but his expression remained as unhurried as ever.

“My Lord?”

Hilda quickly walked over and began removing his clothes.

“I’m fine, really,” Rex said, his tone quite relaxed.

But Hilda ignored his words.

Her hands were already on his collar, unbuttoning the first button.

“I can do it myself.”

“You are soaked through.”

Hilda’s hands didn’t stop, moving quickly but not frantically.

His coat was taken off and tossed aside.

The shirt underneath was so wet it could be wrung out, clinging to his skin, revealing the tense outline of his muscles in the cold air.

Rex didn’t refuse further.

He stood there, letting her handle him.

“I will prepare hot water for you.”

She turned to leave, but Rex reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“No need, I—”

“My Lord.”

Hilda turned back, her gaze fixed on him.

“You have ice on you.”

Rex looked down at his own hands.

His fingertips were indeed tinged bluish-purple.

“…Alright.”

The Ancient Castle didn’t have a dedicated bathroom, but there was a stone chamber on the second floor.

A magic circle in the corner could heat the water in the storage tank.

It was a pleasant surprise that it still worked after over a hundred years.

Rex took off his shoes and socks, immersing his feet in the hot water.

Then the warmth spread from the pool all the way to the top of his head.

He leaned against the pool wall, eyes closed, thinking about what had just happened.

The waterwheel’s support frame was completely rotten, breaking at a touch.

He hadn’t paid attention to his footing when he climbed up.

The wooden frame shattered into several pieces, and he fell straight into the icy water.

The water wasn’t deep, but it was cold.

The kind of cold that seeps into your bones.

“Good thing I know a bit of magic,” he muttered self-deprecatingly.

If he hadn’t used magic to maintain his body temperature, he’d probably be frozen stiff by the riverbank right now.

As he was thinking, he heard extremely light footsteps behind him.

Rex opened his eyes but didn’t turn around.

“Hilda?”

The footsteps didn’t stop.

Then he saw Hilda appear at the edge of the pool.

She had actually removed her maid uniform.

She was wrapped in a white bath towel, covering her from chest to upper thighs.

Her silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, a few strands falling to the edge of the towel.

Her collarbone was exposed, the lines of her shoulders smooth and gentle.

Her face showed no particular expression, but the tips of her ears were slightly red.

Rex’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he quickly looked away.

“What are you doing?”

“My Lord.”

Hilda knelt down, placing a dry towel by the poolside.

“You cannot reach your own back.”

“I can manage.”

“You cannot reach,” she repeated, her tone quite firm.

“Then… then turn around. I’ll wrap a towel…”

Hilda turned around.

Rex stood up from the water, quickly wrapped another towel around his waist and below, and sat on a stool nearby.

“Alright.”

Hilda turned back and walked behind him.

She picked up the towel soaked in hot water, wrung it out, folded it into a neat strip, and gently pressed it against his shoulder.

“You should not have gone to repair the waterwheel alone,” Hilda’s voice came from behind him.

“I was just going to look. I didn’t expect the frame to be so brittle.”

“You should have taken me with you.”

“You were cooking.”

Hilda didn’t respond.

Her towel moved from his shoulders, slowly and carefully wiping down his spine.

Then her hand paused.

Rex felt her fingers, through the towel, press against the position of his shoulder blade.

There were a few shallow marks there—scars. Very old scars, long healed, but the traces remained.

“What’s wrong?”

Rex turned his head to look at her.

Hilda didn’t speak.

Her gaze fell on those scars, her fingers unconsciously tracing the lines of the marks lightly.

She recognized these scars.

They were claw marks.

Back then, Hilda was still in her Dragon form, trapped in a valley by a group of Dragon hunters.

Her wings were injured, preventing flight, so she could only withstand attacks with her body.

Their weapons were coated with a poison specifically designed to counter the Dragon Kind; every strike felt like a red-hot branding iron.

She thought she would die there.

Then a human youth jumped down from the cliff.

He looked only about fifteen years old, armed with only a short knife.

And yet, he stood in front of her, using that short knife and his own body to block every attack from the Dragon hunters.

Those claw marks were what she left in her last moment before succumbing to the poison and losing consciousness.

At that time, she had completely lost her senses; her Dragon claws swung out unconsciously, leaving four deep gashes on his back.

When she regained consciousness, the first thing she saw was the corpses of several Dragon hunters.

The youth lay on the ground, his back covered in blood, but he was smiling.

“I’m fine! I’m just glad you’re awake.”

Since that day, she had never left his side.

“What’s wrong, Hilda?”

Rex asked again.

“Nothing.”

Hilda withdrew her fingers and continued wiping his back.

The towel slid from the center of his spine down to his waist, moving slowly as if measuring something.

Her fingers occasionally brushed against his skin, cool, contrasting with the heat of the towel.

“My Lord.”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you jump down back then?”

Rex was taken aback.

“When?”

“Dragon Valley. When those people surrounded me. You were only fifteen years old, and you only had a short knife. You didn’t know me, didn’t know who I was, didn’t even know if I was your enemy.”

Rex thought back.

“Weren’t you about to die then? I watched you being surrounded, the blood from your wings staining the ground red. What did you think I should do? Just stand there stupidly and watch?”

“But most humans would have done just that…”

“But I’m not most humans.”

The corner of Hilda’s mouth curved up slightly.

The towel slowly wiped past his lower back.

“In Dragon Valley. You only let me see it once.”

Rex thought about it; there did seem to be such an incident.

Back then, he had just rescued Hilda from the Dragon hunters and was seriously injured himself.

After the two of them recovered somewhat, she insisted on seeing his wounds.

Unable to resist her, he took off his shirt.

“Ha, that was over ten years ago.”

“But I have always remembered.”

Hilda’s towel stopped at his side.

“You are always like this,” her voice was very soft.

“Like what?”

“Bearing everything yourself, not saying anything even when injured.”

Rex chuckled.

“Just minor injuries. Telling you would only make you worry.”

Hilda didn’t answer.

She put down the towel, her fingers lightly pressing against that scar.

The atmosphere suddenly became a bit awkward.

Rex stood up and pulled the towel up a bit higher.

“Thank you.”

Hilda didn’t move.

She stood there, clutching the damp towel, looking at Rex as if lost in thought.

“Hilda?”

“…Next time, when you go out to work, please take me with you, okay?”

Her voice was very small and soft, but Rex heard it clearly in the confined room.

“Okay.”

Hilda raised her head.

Her red eyes seemed a bit moist in the steam, or perhaps it was the lighting.

She glanced at him, then turned and walked out, her steps slightly faster than when she came.

Rex stood in the bathroom, listening to her footsteps fade away down the corridor.

He looked down at the old scars on his chest.

“Hmm… I should be more careful next time,” he said to himself.

By the time Rex came out, Hilda had already changed back into her maid uniform and was sitting by the fireplace with a cup of hot coffee.

Her expression was as calm as usual, only occasionally glancing in Rex’s direction.

Rex sat opposite her, flipping through a tattered map of the North, his fingers slowly tracing the topographic lines.

“Tomorrow,” he suddenly spoke, “I’ll go talk to that Lumberjack.”

“The waterwheel needs repairs. I can’t do it alone. Need to find help.”

He paused.

“They lack food, salt, tools. We lack manpower. Let’s see if we can work something out.”

“Will they trust you? Their attitude last time wasn’t very good.”

“It’s fine if they don’t trust me.”

Rex folded the map.

“We’ll talk first. If they don’t believe after a few talks, what about after ten? What about after a year?”

He stood up and walked to the window.

“Anyway, I’m staying right here in the North. I’m not going anywhere.”