Sea Monster Stew Chapter 27

Biche blinked her eyes, blurred by rainwater, and looked ahead. 

 

A figure with ash-grey hair shimmered before her eyes.

‘Muir…?’

She wanted to call Muir’s name, but no voice came out.

 

Moreover, after blinking a couple of times, the man with ash-grey hair vanished.

A rugged face with a drooping black beard took its place.

The giant who had momentarily worn Muir’s phantom appearance was none other than the terrifying live-skinner Kisa.

 

“…Why did you recklessly jump from such a height… And why is your fever so high…?”

Kisa was shouting something loudly, but his words were drowned out by the pouring rain and couldn’t be heard clearly.

Biche looked up at him with half-closed eyes, then finally lost consciousness.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When she gently opened her eyes to an enveloping warmth, Biche found herself lying not on the cold street or in a soggy puddle, but on a soft, cozy bed.

A strange sound came from somewhere. Turning her gaze, her eyes widened at the unexpected sight.

Admiral Kisa was blowing on hot stew to cool it.

 

‘Don’t tell me… I’ve been caught again…?’

Biche cautiously raised her head. 

 

Her eyes met Kisa’s just as he turned.

As if embarrassed to be caught holding a small spoon and cooling the stew, he subtly averted his gaze.

 

“Don’t tell me you were really planning to starve yourself to death?”

 

He muttered, almost as if scoffing at himself.

“After all the trouble of escaping the main island, to try and drown yourself with your face in a rainwater puddle. There probably isn’t another woman in the world as foolish as you.”

“……”

“Stop this pointless stubbornness and eat this. Now.”

 

Kisa pushed the spoon full of stew towards Biche’s lips. 

 

But Biche turned her head away, avoiding the spoon.

“Dammit, are you really trying to die? Open your mouth!”

“…Is… is it…”

“Huh?”

“…is it made from… monster meat…?”

 

As she finished speaking, hot tears streamed down Biche’s cheeks.

She herself didn’t know why she had suddenly asked that question, or how monster meat had come to mind.

Even though she knew Kisa, who detested sea monsters, would never eat monster meat, her mind was too blurred by the high fever to grasp that fact.

 

“Monster meat?”

Kisa let out a disbelieving laugh and shook his head.

“No, this is stew made with goose meat. Rest assured, now eat it.”

“…No.”

Biche turned her head away from the spoon again. At that moment, Kisa’s face hardened frighteningly.

He remained silent for a moment, then used his large hand to press firmly on Biche’s chin, forcing her mouth open.

“Eat. Right now.”

 

The spoon was shoved into her mouth. 

 

Biche clenched her eyes shut and shook her head, but her chin was held fast, and she couldn’t move. 

 

Her exhausted body couldn’t even muster a feeble resistance.

The stew, cooled to a suitable temperature, flowed into her parched mouth. 

 

But she didn’t swallow the stew held in her mouth. She just held it there and glared at Kisa as if she wanted to kill him.

 

“Damn it, are you really determined to starve to death?”

Kisa swore and pinched Biche’s nose shut. 

 

Startled by his sudden action, Biche looked up at him with wide, astonished eyes.

With his other hand, Kisa grabbed her jaw and forced her mouth open. With her nose blocked and her mouth now open, the stew pooled on her tongue gurgled down her throat.

 

“Good. You swallow just fine…”

Kisa laughed lowly with a satisfied expression. 

 

Biche shot him a look of utter disbelief.

But Kisa paid no heed and continued feeding her spoonfuls of stew in the same manner.

Held by her nose and jaw, she had no choice but to powerlessly swallow the stew he pushed in.

 

‘…Could it be he still hasn’t realized I’m a half-breed monster…?’

 

The feeling of fullness, the first in three days, slowly made her body languid.

She stared blankly at the empty bowl he tossed down, then raised her head as she felt his hands pulling the covers over her.

Kisa covered her half-closed eyes with his palm. 

 

His hand was so large it could cover her entire face.

“Get some sleep.”

 

His voice, heard while her vision was blocked, felt strangely familiar. The low, rough tone.

Even as sleep gradually washed over her, Biche thought dazedly:

It’s strange. It sounds just like… Muir’s voice…

 

 

* * *

 

 

Biche slept for three full days, lying down. 

 

Curled up like a small animal, her body burned with fever the entire time, and from between her lips, which had developed white, peeling skin, the same sleep-talking flowed out each time.

 

“…Mother…”

“Huh? Mother?”

Kisa’s brow furrowed miserably as he listened closely by Biche’s mouth. 

 

It was a phrase he’d heard over five times now, and it displeased him every time.

Whenever the longing-filled voice escaped her dry lips, she invariably shed tears.

This time too, teardrops welled up and streamed down, parting her thick eyelashes.

 

“Please, stop crying. You’re not happy with the food or drink, so why are you shedding so many tears?”

His words were gruff, but the hand wiping her cheek was careful and tender. Kisa’s eyes narrowed as he gently stroked her fever-flushed cheeks.

…She must want to return to her family.

“Damn it.”

 

The curse he’d been trying to suppress finally leaked through his teeth. 

 

Kisa bit his lip and buried his face in the nape of Biche’s neck.

Rubbing his nose against her hot skin as if acting spoiled, he only felt somewhat better after filling his nostrils with her scent.

Anyway, Biche was in his arms now. That fact alone was enough.

 

About a week had passed since the escape incident. Hildert did not form a pursuit party.

Although he occasionally looked at Kisa with a knowing glint and clicked his tongue, Kisa diligently pretended not to notice the Vice-Captain’s gaze.

Literally, they were days of quiet peace.

 

“Father…”

Biche muttered weakly in a feverish voice. Kisa stroked her hair and let out a sigh.

“So now you’re looking for your father.”

 

“Well, it’s only natural she’d miss her family.”

A sharp voice from beside the bed disturbed Kisa’s rest. 

 

It was the voice of Dr. Foos, the surgeon from the 2nd Ship.

Foos, who had been busily organizing his medicine case, glanced at Kisa’s expression and grumbled.

“Even so, it’s too much to keep smacking your lips and rubbing mouths right in front of this poor old man…”

“What? When did I smack my— Wait.”

Kisa was startled when he saw the object in Foos’s hand. 

 

Inside the glass vial Foos had taken from his medical bag, a sinister green liquid sloshed.

“What medicine is that?”

“Don’t worry. It’s not for you, Admiral. It’s for this young lady.”

Kisa knew exactly what the medicine was. 

 

It was the same “wonder drug” he’d had to take when he fell into a pond late one night and caught a severe cold.

It was unbelievably bitter; just one sip felt like it was scorching his throat.

“Who are you planning to feed that horrible stuff to now? Put it away immediately!”

“But there’s no remedy as effective as this one! Unless you want to hold a fever-ridden corpse in your arms for the next few days, that is…”

“You bastard, who are you calling a corpse?!”

“Gah!”

 

Foos was hit square in the face by a cushion Kisa threw and tumbled onto the floor. 

 

Getting up after the back of his head hit the wardrobe, he rubbed his head and stammered as he continued.

“I meant she’s lying there like a corpse, not moving… As you know, this is a special medicine personally concocted by the 1st Ship’s surgeon, Dr. Mokuba.”

“I know. I know very well how effective it is, and how terrible it tastes.”

“She’ll probably open her eyes, bright and clear, not long after taking the medicine, once her fever breaks.”

“…When will she wake up?”

“Perhaps in three hours… No. She should open her eyes in two hours.”

“Then why are you only bringing out this effective medicine now?”

Foos, who had skillfully dodged the flying cushion, waved his hands as if making excuses.

“Since it’s a special medicine Dr. Mokuba concocts only for the Captain and the Admirals, it took time to acquire…”

He dodged another consecutive flying cushion and let out a shriek.

“Eek! B-but! Just sending word to the 1st Ship to request the medicine and getting permission to use it took a full two days…”

“Ahh— Fine, I get it. If it’s Dr. Mokuba’s medicine, it’s trustworthy. Then hurry up and feed her that wonder drug.”

Foos trudged over to the bed and leaned towards Biche. 

 

As he uncorked the bottle and slowly tilted it towards Biche’s swollen lips, Kisa’s brow furrowed ruthlessly.

He even disliked Foos’s wrinkled hand lightly touching Biche’s mouth.

 

“…Wait, is it safe to give her medicine while she’s sleeping?”

Kisa glared at the wrinkled hand touching Biche’s lips and gritted his teeth.

“What if the medicine goes down her throat and she chokes?”

“Admiral, really, the young lady isn’t an infant, a mere amount like this won’t…”

“No, give it here. I’ll feed her as soon as she wakes up.”

“Eh? Then what’s the point of giving her the medicine to make her wake up quickly…”

“Give it here now.”

 

He roughly snatched the medicine bottle from Foos’s hand. 

 

Foos, as if he had been waiting for this, grabbed his medical bag and hastily retreated towards the door.

“Well then, I’ll be taking my leave. Have a good time with the young lady, Admiral.”

“What good time? Are you telling me to mess around with a sick woman right now?”

“Oh my, you men… they say just holding your lover in your arms can send you to ecstasy. Though you’re young enough to be satisfied just watching from the side without even embracing…”

“Cut the nonsense and get out.”

“Yes. Please make sure to tuck the young lady in tightly. You know, right? Maintaining body temperature is most important.”

Foos chuckled as he left the room.

 

Kisa meticulously tucked the cozy blanket around Biche, who was breathing in shallow pants. 

 

As Foos had repeatedly emphasized, maintaining body temperature was crucial for reducing fever.

Worried she might kick the covers off in her sleep, Kisa sat by her side watching for a long time, then quietly lay down beside her.

Forgetting that he should remove his heavy cloak and iron armor, he gently closed his eyes. 

 

It was fortunate, at least, that he had already taken off the giant hide.

With his forehead against Biche’s feverish head, he began to feel sleepy. 

 

Sinking into a deep sleep, he muttered:

“Get well soon. Get well… so you can play with me…”