TCCIO 07

Chapter 7. A Precious Prisoner
Tap.

A dagger, sharpened as keenly as Aaron’s eyes, was tossed upward. Reflecting the light with a glint, it spun through the air and landed back into Aaron’s hand. Tap.
He threw it again, and his large, calloused hand caught the falling hilt with precision.
Aaron, lounging deeply in a chair, repeated the motion again and again.
Tap.
Despite the battlefield setting, a sense of leisure surrounded him.
Yet the unerring accuracy of his hand betrayed a dangerous sharpness hidden beneath the calm.

“Commander, aren’t you supposed to be working?”

The military doctor entered the tent, lifting the curtain, medical bag in hand.

“I am working. Very hard.”

“From where I stand, it looks like you’re doing absolutely nothing.”

“I’m personally guarding the prisoner we worked so hard to capture.”

Aaron replied lazily, his grey eyes still fixed on the woman.
The blanket rose and fell with the rhythm of her breath as she slept.
Seeing her asleep within his domain gave Aaron a strange sense of satisfaction.
With a languid smile, he tossed the dagger into the air again.

“Aren’t you just freeloading now? Who guards a sleeping patient so diligently?”

“If you knew how much I went through to catch her, you’d never say that.”

Aaron grumbled as he caught the falling dagger again.
He’d gone so far as to pose as a fake prisoner himself to capture her.
When he first proposed the plan, the other commanders were horrified.
The Supreme Commander, tied up and exposed to the enemy?
If the enemy caught on, it could have cost him his life.
But Aaron’s obsession with the target was relentless—almost terrifying.
No one could stand in the way of his ferocious determination.
In the end, even those who opposed had to follow his plan.

And now, thanks to its success, the captured prey was sleeping soundly before him.
Aaron sheathed the dagger and rested his elbow on the chair’s arm.
He leaned to one side and propped his chin on his hand.
The silvery-grey eyes, characteristic of the royal House of Stilleitz, remained fixed on the woman.

“What’s her true identity?”

“She’s the enemy.”

The military doctor replied indifferently as he passed by Aaron.
Aaron frowned at the apathetic response.

“I meant her real identity.”

“She’s a prisoner.”

Click. Aaron clicked his tongue in exasperation. Why were all his subordinates like this?
Now that Collin was away playing the role of fake commander, the military doctor had taken up the task of being annoying.
Aaron muttered to himself, unaware that his entire unit was becoming more like their commander.

“Why do I feel like all my subordinates are going crazy?”

“Maybe they’re starting to resemble someone…”

The doctor’s honest jab was silenced when Aaron raised a finger to his lips.

“Shh.”

At his command, everything inside the tent fell silent.
Even the beams of light piercing through the tent and the drifting dust seemed to hold their breath.
Uhnng.
Amid perfect stillness, the woman let out a soft, faint groan.
Aaron, the military doctor, and his adjutant Dyke all went perfectly still, watching her.

Her gentle breathing filled the space between their held breaths.
She was still asleep, but her brows furrowed, and her body shifted as if something troubled her.
Her tousled golden hair shimmered in the light.
After a moment, her breathing steadied again.
The blanket rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern once more.

Haa.
All three men exhaled in unison, releasing the tension in their bodies.
They filled their lungs again with the air they’d held back.

“…But why exactly were we holding our breath?”

The doctor, seeing the woman was still asleep, looked at Aaron with confusion.
To his knowledge, she was the enemy. A prisoner.

“Shh. Let her sleep more.”

Aaron’s voice dropped even lower.
The doctor stared at him with growing puzzlement.

“You’re whispering so she doesn’t wake up?”

His voice involuntarily softened too.

“She must be in pain. She keeps frowning and sweating.”

“Of course she is. You dug through raw flesh without anesthetic.”

“She finally fell asleep after groaning all night. We can’t wake her now.”

The doctor blinked at Aaron.
A commander nursing an enemy prisoner with such care?
He couldn’t help but ask,

“Is she that important? Important enough for you to take care of her personally?”

Aaron turned to meet the doctor’s gaze.
His silver eyes gleamed with something strange.
The doctor swallowed dryly under the piercing stare.
After a moment of silence, Aaron relaxed his expression and replied nonchalantly.

“Of course. She’s clearly the enemy commander.”

The doctor shivered inexplicably.
Something enormous had just passed over him—he could feel it.
His instincts warned him not to dig too deep.

Quickly dropping any questions about Aaron himself, the doctor focused back on the prisoner.

“She’s the real commander? This weak, delicate woman?”

She seemed too fragile even to hold a knife or fire a gun.

“I don’t know about anything else, but she definitely commanded the group that attacked us.”

“How do you know?”

“I heard it clearly. They called her commander.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just your imagination…?”

Ignoring the pointless doubt, Aaron continued,

“All the ones tied to the palisade acted on her orders.”

“Maybe she’s just a proxy? I can’t believe someone this weak would lead.”

Aaron responded firmly, cutting off all doubt.

“They stopped attacking altogether after she was captured. Not a single assault since.”

The doctor froze mid-step.
It was true—those relentless raids had ceased completely after she was caught.
The enemy had vanished like the ebbing tide.
He blinked in disbelief, staring at the woman.

This frail girl was the commander?

“If there was a higher authority, they’d have launched another operation by now.”

Seeing the doctor’s reaction, Aaron chuckled and sank back into his chair.
He moved carefully this time, minimizing any sound.

“Aha.”

The doctor let out a long sigh and leaned in, whispering:

“Then shouldn’t we just kill her? Taking out the enemy leader is a sound tactic.”

“No. We can’t kill her. Precisely because she’s the leader.”

The contradictory reply made the doctor tilt his head.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Aaron smirked.

“She’s not just commanding militias.”

“Then who is she leading?”

“Elite troops. Highly trained professionals.
That kind of army doesn’t just form from random civilians.”

Aaron’s gaze traced the shimmer of her golden hair toward her face.
Her eyes were still closed—such beautiful blue eyes they had been.

“Even though their weapons were old, they were well-maintained. Their command structure was flawless.”

“Which is exactly why we should eliminate her.”

“Doctor, stop trying to kill her and think.”

The doctor stared at him, offended.
After all the effort he spent saving her, and now Aaron was painting him as some kind of killer?

“Why would trained elites follow her?
This is different from a man commanding with force.”

“How so?”

“Just look at her. You think she overpowered them by strength?
And yet they completely obeyed her.”

The doctor recalled her slender arm—the kind that barely seemed capable of holding a knife.

“She has something beyond strength or skill.
Maybe a noble title… or a divine blessing… like a saint.”

Aaron’s gaze slid to the woman.
Sunlight slipping through the tent scattered across her long lashes.
The golden glow of her hair floated around her like dust.

“Someone high enough to command elite troops.”

“The more you talk, the less sense it makes.”

“In any case, I feel she’ll play a key role in the Great Iorenti War.”

“How?”

“If it turns out she’s a high-ranking noble or a saint,
a formal negotiation might be initiated.
This hellish war could end quickly.”

And once his curiosity about her was satisfied, maybe this burning thirst inside would fade too.
Aaron stood and walked to the table, picking up a glass of water.
It was clear and cool, just like her eyes.

“If that happens, we might get to go home sooner than expected.”

At the word home, the doctor’s expression changed completely.
If they could go home sooner, then loyalty to this beautiful prisoner—or rather, the commander—was an easy price to pay.
Clutching his bag tightly, he made a determined vow.

“In that case, I’ll give my all to treat this patient!”

“Good. Do your best.”

“Yes, sir!”

While watching the motivated doctor, Aaron called out to his adjutant:

“Dyke. Get in touch with Day.
We need someone to find out who she really is.”

“Yes, Commander.”

As Dyke left the tent, the doctor gently pulled down the woman’s blanket.
She was wearing Aaron’s crisp white shirt.
He carefully unfastened the top buttons, mindful not to wake her.

Aaron glanced at the doctor’s hands and spoke,

“Her fever broke at dawn. No more bleeding.
Looks like the surgery was successful.
Just disinfect and rebandage the wound.”

The doctor paused mid-button.
When he looked up, Aaron was already focused on the military documents on the table.

“Commander… Did you care for her through the night?”

He asked, then immediately regretted it, recalling Aaron’s earlier coldness.
But this time, Aaron simply flipped through the documents calmly.
His talk with the doctor had clarified everything.

Why had he been caring for this prisoner so diligently?
Because she was useful.
Once he discovered her true identity and made use of it, even this unquenchable thirst would vanish.

With the answer clear, he felt a sense of ease.
Aaron smiled and gave the answer he hadn’t earlier.

“Of course. She’s my precious prisoner.”