Viego in Arknights

"Hello," an ethereal female voice sounded by Viego's ear.

He looked at the slender Sarkaz woman before him. She wore a white dress, and appearing on a battlefield filled with gunpowder smoke and the fires of war, her body seemed to be plated with a layer of light. But Viego didn't think this looked beautiful at all.

Due to his past life's experiences, he had always kept women like this at a distance. Just looking at her, a series of labels like "green tea," "double standard," and "PUA master" would pop into his mind. Of course, it wasn't to say that the Sarkaz woman before him was necessarily such a person. But Viego didn't want to know what kind of person she was. If possible, it was best not to have any contact with her at all. It would be even better if she were an enemy; he could just kill her directly.

Seeing a person like this, Viego couldn't help but recall the bad woman ex-girlfriend from his past life who had PUA'd him into becoming a simp. Bad memories flooded his mind.

"Are you one of them?" Viego asked concisely.

"No. To be precise, my position is incompatible with theirs." She turned her head to look at the Sarkaz warriors behind her, who had silently lowered their weapons and were standing like a group of statues. "My name is Theresa. I am the employer for your mercenary group's current operation, and the leader of Babel." She looked back at Viego, her tone gentle. "Those warriors will leave and will not attack again for the time being. May I ask you to also temporarily abandon your intention to fight?"

Her tone held no sense of condescending command or bossiness, but rather made one feel truly respected, as if she were engaging in a discussion with an equal. Perhaps even if Viego refused, she wouldn't show any negative emotions like anger or indignation.

A saint?

Looking at Theresa, such a word naturally popped into Viego's mind. Don't get me wrong, for Viego, "saint" was not a derogatory term. Of course, it wasn't a complimentary one either, just a normal, neutral label used to summarize his impression of a person. A "sanctimonious bitch" was the derogatory term, but Theresa, at least for now, had not shown any traits of being one.

Viego tightened his grip on the Blade of the Ruined King in his hand and looked back at W and Ines behind him. Ines's eyes were tightly shut; she seemed to have lost consciousness. Although W's eyes were still open, her gaze was not focused. She was only looking roughly in Viego's direction, most likely already on the verge of unconsciousness.

"My companions need medical assistance," he said. "They are heavily injured."

This was his agreement to Theresa's proposal. She was the employer. If even she was giving up on killing these enemies, then Viego, as a hired thug, naturally had no objections.

—Of course, the reason Viego could agree was also because the group of Sarkaz warriors behind Theresa had truly given up their intention to fight. They sheathed their weapons and silently retreated from the ruins.

Theresa didn't turn her head, seeming to have known all along that those Sarkaz would do so. She just walked towards W and Ines on the other side and gestured to Viego. "I'll help them with some emergency first aid on their wounds first, is that okay?"

"Please, go ahead." Viego still held the Blade of the Ruined King—that is, Viego's signature sword—in his hand. This was the reason the Ruination had been consumed so rapidly just now. The Blade of the Ruined King had come to this world along with Viego, and after the Ruination had been replenished to a certain extent, it had spontaneously materialized in his hand. Viego could feel that with just a thought, the Blade of the Ruined King could be unsummoned.

But he didn't do so. Viego could not possibly trust a person he had just met completely.

The sound of slightly hurried footsteps came from far to near. Viego looked up and saw a cold-faced woman with white hair and cat ears walking quickly from around the corner of the ruins, coming to Theresa's side.

...A cat-eared girl? Such a being actually exists in this other world... is she a special case, or is there really such a race?

"Theresa, you walked too fast."

"Sorry, Kal'tsit, for leaving you behind alone. I just didn't want to see the lives of those warriors consumed in such a struggle..."

Theresa and the cold cat-eared girl called Kal'tsit came to the side of W and Ines. Theresa knelt down. "They are heavily injured. If their wounds aren't treated, they might… Kal'tsit, can you lend a hand?"

"If we continue to delay, he might find this place. You know very well this is dangerous, Theresa," Kal'tsit said, while also kneeling down and sighing softly. "Forget it. No matter what I say, you won't change your mind anyway."

Kal'tsit opened the small tactical pouch on her belt. Inside were various battlefield first-aid supplies. They began to treat the wounds of Ines and W.

A few moments later, the treatment of the wounds was coming to an end.

"By the way, sir with the sword, I haven't had the chance to ask your name yet?" Theresa said, doing the final finishing touches on the bandages, asking softly without lifting her head. She used a respectful form of address for Viego, her words polite and proper, just like those so-called "nobles" W had mentioned.

Viego really wanted to pretend he hadn't heard Theresa's words, but he was the only one here holding a sword, and the only male individual who could be called "sir" was also him.

"Viego," he said.

"You are not a Sarkaz," Theresa's words held no discernible emotion, leaving one unsure if she was marveling, questioning, or perhaps, being wary?

"Mm," Viego responded with a straight face. "If you doubt me, you can ask Heavily to verify my identity." This was to indicate that he had no desire for conversation.

"Ah, my apologies." Theresa stood up and gave Viego an apologetic nod. "I was too abrupt."

"..." Viego shook his head to indicate it was fine. But he was indeed unwilling to have too much contact with Theresa. The more contact he had, the more memories would surface in his mind. The memories that had once kept him up all night in pain and sorrow were also stirring the memories belonging to the "Ruined King."

Viego was unwilling to be influenced too much by the thousands of years of memories in his mind. The after-effects of the Ruined King from the previous battle were already enough. He absolutely did not want to become Isolde's simp again, going through countless hardships to save the woman who had cried out "Viego, save me" before she died, only to be backstabbed by her.

Anyone in this world could belittle, harm, or curse the Ruined King. Only she, Isolde, could not. But she had chosen to betray him.

Heh, bad woman.

Theresa's gentle and ethereal voice interrupted Viego's thoughts.

"Kal'tsit and I have done our best to treat your companions' injuries. This should be enough for them to last the next leg of the journey. Please bring them with me. You were injured on a Babel commission, so Babel will also do its best to provide treatment for your companions."

"...Where is Heavily?"

"Please rest assured, he is also on the ship, with the other wounded."

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