Ah, What Should I Do?! (7)

The merchants and mercenaries packed so many things to carry that they were bound tight with ropes like overstuffed parcels as they waited atop the Teleport circle. Only Princess Riana looked relaxed, gazing at me with a carefree smile as she asked:

“I wonder… will you be sad when we leave?”

I nearly blurted, Not at all, but held back and said the opposite instead.

“Of course, I’ll be lonely. The absence of people always feels cold.”

I tossed out some trite line I’d picked up, and the princess looked moved as she asked softly:

“If I come again, will you welcome me warmly?”

Again, I swallowed my true answer—Please don’t—and even managed a smile.

“Of course. I sincerely hope to see you again.”

Outwardly I said one thing, inwardly another, but my well-practiced “business face” carried me through.

“You are a good man, a fortunate connection. I’m grateful. I hope we meet again…”

She radiated regret, but I could hardly contain my joy. Once she was gone, I would be free to relax for a time.

Time passed until Muriel stepped forward and said gently:

“Many are waiting, Your Highness. Please, let us go.”

The princess glared at him, clearly unwilling, but with more than a hundred people waiting for her, she had no choice. She stepped onto the Teleport circle, lifted a fist-sized stone, and as it glowed, the circle answered, humming like a swarm of wings.

I closed the distance, waving with a look of regret. At first startled, she returned the gesture, and then vanished in light.

“Yesss!”

She was gone at last!

With most of the humans departed, peace returned. Then the beastkin began to appear again.

Those who had avoided the manor because of the humans now came freely, inquiring about becoming residents. Vincent, growing adept at dealing with them, handled their petitions.

In the midst of this, a beastkin I’d only seen in passing before came rushing to me.

“Lord! Please help!”

It was Gamung of the Tigerfolk.

“It’s been a while. What’s so urgent?”

“M-my wife is giving birth, but the baby’s coming feet first!”

A breech birth. But I wasn’t a midwife. I had never delivered a baby in my life.

Yet Gamung wasn’t asking me to deliver it.

“They say you have a medicine that restores blood. I need it—lots of it!”

He meant the Blood-Replenishing Pills. I had distributed them to beastkin women, but overuse taxed the liver; he didn’t know that.

Still, ten pills or so would be safe. I told him to wait, packed them, and followed him.

But as an ordinary human, I couldn’t match his speed. Seeing this, Gamung crouched down.

“Climb on. We must hurry.”

Embarrassing for one man to ride another, but there was no time. I climbed onto his broad back, and for a moment was carried back to the nostalgia of childhood.

My parents…

A pang of longing struck me, but it passed as the world blurred past. Soon we arrived at the Tigerfolk settlement—if it could be called that. More like a band of beggars barely surviving.

And they wanted to have children here… They were people too…

The sight filled me with dismay. I wasn’t a saint, but neither was I heartless enough to ignore suffering.

Gamung set me down and pointed.

“There—my wife.”

I could hear her groaning. But first, the oppressive sun and filthy conditions had to be addressed.

“Gamung, give your wife one pill every thirty minutes, no more.”

“Thirty minutes?” He tilted his head—time meant little to him. So I showed him my wristwatch, pressed one pill into his hand, and said:

“Start now.”

He nodded and ran off. Meanwhile, I examined the area, then used Construction magic. I envisioned a simple shelter to block the sun and raised it from the ground.

The Tigerfolk stared in awe as the building sprouted instantly. Next, I leveled the ground, shaped a basin to hold water, and kicked it free for use.

Pointing at one nearby beastkin, I said:

“Fetch water.”

“For… water?”

“Yes. The mother needs it. And also… find this herb.”

I sketched its shape on the ground. He understood and ran off.

When Gamung returned, I instructed:

“Bring your wife here. Carefully, so neither she nor the child is harmed.”

“Why?”

“For hygiene. The sun is harmful. Dehydration is a risk. Blood loss isn’t the only danger.”

“I… understand.”

They carried her—legs protruding, trapped. I knew better than to pull. We needed medicine to bolster her strength and help the child.

But her contractions and blood loss grew severe. Even with beastkin vitality, the child might not survive.

Then Pharmacy whispered the method to me.

Why did Pharmacy tell me this…?!

I froze. The only way was a perineal incision to widen the passage, then gently draw the legs while someone pressed down on the womb.

It was brutal, dangerous. But if I did nothing, the child would die—and the mother too.

As if someone with a will was guiding me through Pharmacy, I conjured a scalpel by shaping the earth with Construction.

Lifting the crude blade, I said:

“I will help Gamung’s wife. Do I have permission?”

The child would die otherwise. When I explained, Gamung’s face hardened.

“I trust you. Save them.”

So he was their chieftain, with multiple wives. His permission meant everything.

I bowed to the women who stepped aside and looked at the mother’s legs.

If I slipped, I might cut the child. My hands shook, so I swallowed a calming pill.

“There will be heavy bleeding. Bring strong liquor, a needle, and thread.”

The beastkin scattered. When the medicine steadied my hands, I pressed the scalpel to flesh.

The incision—“perineotomy,” they’d call it—was ghastly. Without Pharmacy guiding me, I could never have done it. Fear threatened to paralyze me, but I pressed on.

At last, with the cut made, a beastkin woman pressed down on the womb, and slowly the legs emerged.

“Please… please…”

Sweat poured down as I gently drew the child, until suddenly it slipped free into the waiting arms of a woman. She cut and tied the cord skillfully.

She wasn’t just a wife—she was a midwife. Stunned, I stood frozen until Gamung thanked me over and over. But I wasn’t finished.

“The wound must be stitched.”

Confused looks met me. So I explained as Pharmacy instructed, and soon they handed me needle, thread, and liquor.

That day passed in a blur.

I even had to concoct a salve with added anti-inflammatory herbs to prevent infection. By the time I returned to the manor, I realized I was covered in blood.

“Ha… hahaha… am I crazy? This isn’t a pharmacist’s work…”

Dragged into this world, I was being made to do everything under the sun.