Prince (1)
At the end of the war, I picked up a Combat Doll. It’s been about two years since the war started, and there was no doubt that the Empire’s defeat was inevitable, so we had entered the stage of minimizing mutual sacrifices.
The Empire’s weapons were outdated, in limited quantity, and it was a mystery why they didn’t surrender sooner. The battlefield, which eventually turned into annihilation, was not a pleasant place to be at.
However, only the Empire’s Combat Dolls were troublesome. Despite their small stature, they possessed incredible strength and extraordinary agility. Even after receiving fatal injuries, they would still counterattack, so orders had come to make sure to finish them off.
During an explosion, a Combat Doll was blown into my arms, and I caught it in surprise. Its left arm was blown off, its side was crushed, and there were pieces of shrapnel that had cut deeply above its left eye.
I inadvertently held it again, wondering how this small figure could be a Combat Doll. It moved its right hand slightly and grasped my uniform.
“Warm…” I heard it say.
Surprised, I looked down at it, and I saw it smile faintly and close its eyes. Warm, is it talking about me? It’s the first time someone said that, and it surprised me. Showing such a happy expression to me; that’s not fair.
“Your Highness, please let go. That’s a Combat Doll.”
Hitachimaru said. He had a gun pointed at the Combat Doll’s head.
“It’s fine. It’s already unconscious.”
“It’s a Combat Doll. Finish it off. You mustn’t let your guard down. Let go of it quickly, so I can shoot it.”
“No, I’m taking it with me.”
“Stop saying foolish things and let it go!”
“I’m serious. If you’re going to shoot, do it while it’s in my arms.”
“Huh?”
“Just say you’re going to research the Combat Doll.”
Once I silenced Hitachimaru, who was both my guard and aide, the rest was all me. After that day, the Empire surrendered completely, and we turned one of the rooms in the headquarters building into the Combat Doll’s room for aftercare. We had a military doctor examine it, but it was probably impossible. For now, we just did what we could and tried to comfort it, allowing for treatment.
Dealing with the aftermath of the war was genuinely tedious and exhausting. When I was tired of it all, I made it a daily habit to escape to the Combat Doll’s room, where no one else was around. It served the dual purpose of checking on the Doll’s condition.
Honestly, I wish the people who started the war would be the ones to deal with the aftermath. Why do I have to do this kind of thing? The excessive paperwork is killing me.
The combat doll had a high fever, and it would sometimes breathe heavily, but on a whim, I placed a damp towel on its forehead. It made a content face with a soft sigh.
Maybe it liked the coolness. While I was with it, even for a short while, I continued to place the towel on its forehead.