[If we reach 100 Power Stones this week, I'll release 10 bonus chapters as a thank-you to everyone's support!]
....
"Well, not really…" Zeke raised both hands in mock surrender, trying to wave off Hannes's suspicious glare. Then, with that sly half-smile of his, he teased, "So that's it—you're paying back your uncle for saving your life. For a second there, I thought you had a crush on me… Auntie."
Hannes nearly choked on his own spit. "Tsk! Don't spout nonsense! I have a family, okay?" He rolled his eyes hard enough to see his brain.
"I have a family too," Zeke said casually.
That made Hannes stop dead. "…Wait. You're married?"
Zeke only nodded.
Hannes gawked. "At your age?! You're barely grown, and you're telling me you already tied the knot?!"
Zeke shrugged, his voice light but his eyes unreadable. "If two people love each other, age doesn't matter.
If you want to marry, you marry. That's all." And with that, he turned on his heel and started walking toward the inn.
Hannes scrambled to catch up, still muttering. "Why so early? Don't you know marriage is the grave of love? Women—before marriage, they're sweet as cheese. After marriage, they turn into tigresses! They meddle, nag, argue…" He trailed off, then chuckled softly, remembering. "But still… it's not so bad. Having someone waiting for you at home. Having someone to share a drink with, someone who'll scold you for coming home late. I'm… lucky to be alive."
He gave Zeke's shoulder a hearty slap.
"That woman of yours must be the luckiest in the world! To marry you—hero of humanity, savior of Wall Maria!"
Zeke stopped in his tracks. For a heartbeat, his faint smile looked almost real. Then he answered, voice quiet: "My wife is in the grave."
Hannes froze, the words hitting like a bucket of ice water.
His grin collapsed. "…Ah. Damn it."
Zeke gently removed the man's hand from his shoulder and walked ahead alone.
The sting had dulled with time, but the scar remained. Anna had traded her life for his freedom. The loneliness she left behind was cold, yet her sacrifice had become his fire. Every step he took now, every breath, had to be worthy of the life she bought him. He would cherish each day, not waste it.
…
Inside the inn
"Don't stop me! My mother needs treatment—her leg's been broken for days!" Eren's voice cracked down the corridor, furious.
Several Survey troopers held their ground. "No! The doctor's treating someone right now. We can't just let you barge in! Patients come one by one. That's the rule."
"But—!" Eren clenched his fists, trembling with rage.
"Eren." Carla tugged at his sleeve, her voice calm but weak. "Your father is a doctor too. You know better than anyone—there are rules. Patients must be treated one at a time." She forced a tired smile and gestured to the bench along the wall. "Let's wait over there."
Her steps were uneven, her left foot dragging. Every touch of her heel to the ground sent a wave of pain across her pale face.
Cold sweat dampened her forehead, but she endured silently, for her children's sake.
Zeke quickly pulled a chair out for her, steadying her as she lowered herself down. "Here. Rest a bit."
Carla exhaled shakily. "Thank you."
Eren sat nearby, his face stormy with frustration. Seeing his brother's clenched jaw, Zeke asked the nearest trooper, "How long has the doctor been inside?"
Bertholdt, who had just come down the stairs, answered, "Only a few minutes."
"That means it'll be a while…" Zeke glanced at Carla. Her hands gripped her skirt tightly, her shoulders trembling as she tried to mask the pain. His brows furrowed. "If you don't mind… I could straighten the bones for you."
"What? You?" Carla blinked. Around them, several soldiers and even Annie turned to stare.
Was Zeke… a doctor?
He only shrugged lightly. "I know a little. But I don't have a medical license."
"Why not?" Carla asked, genuinely surprised.
Zeke's smile turned wistful. "Family fell into poverty. I changed paths."
It was only half the truth.
His lineage was a string of doctors—his father, grandfather, great-grandfather.
A true medical family. His childhood had been filled with lectures on anatomy, physiology, and diagnosis, with afternoons spent watching his father tend to patients. If life had gone differently, he would have inherited the craft. But fate, and his father's ambitions, had shoved him toward soldiering instead. Even so, he had not forgotten.
"Then, Brother Zeke, please hurry!" Eren burst out, eyes wide with desperation. "Mom's in pain!"
Zeke hesitated. "But I don't have a license—"
"It doesn't matter! I trust you! You killed Titans, you saved Wall Maria—you can do this too!" Eren's voice cracked with urgency.
Something inside Zeke's chest tightened. Eren… trusts me this much? His eyes prickled.
Off to the side, Annie and Bertholdt winced.
"The captain's using that strange filter again," Bertholdt muttered.
Annie nodded grimly. "Yeah. Full saturation."
But Zeke was too lost in his brother's trust to notice. Wiping at his eyes, he said solemnly, "All right. For a fracture, I'll need two flat boards and some rope."
"I'll get them!" Eren bolted out the door, running faster than anyone had ever seen him.
Ten minutes later, he returned breathless, clutching two planks and a coil of rope. "Here!"
Zeke grinned. "Good job." He knelt before Carla, taking her injured leg carefully onto his lap. His fingers probed gently, precise. "The tibia's broken in two places, fibula in three. Manageable. Auntie, it'll hurt, so if you need, bite down on a towel."
"You… really do know medicine," Hannes muttered in surprise.
"Yeah," Zeke answered simply.
Mikasa quickly offered Carla her scarf.
But Carla shook her head with a soft smile. "No need. The pain's dulled already. Just do it."
Zeke nodded. His hands worked steadily, realigning the shattered bones.
Carla bit back a groan, her face paling. But when she saw Eren and Mikasa's worried stares, she forced her lips into a smile. "It's fine. It doesn't hurt."
The truth was the opposite—but a mother's heart always shielded her children.
To distract herself, she asked Zeke, voice trembling, "Reiner… is he badly hurt?"
Zeke hesitated, but Carla quickly turned to Annie and Bertholdt. "You two were with him. Is it serious?"
Both shook their heads so fast it was almost comical. "N-no! Not serious at all!"
The Survey troopers blinked. Really?
Carla exhaled in relief. "Good. I was worried."
"…" The troopers exchanged looks.
But Annie frowned slightly. "Still… it looked miserable."
"Yeah," Bertholdt whispered. "The doctor… he used a needle. To sew his wound shut." His expression twisted with pity. "So tragic."
The soldiers' jaws collectively dropped.
"Are you kidding me? That's normal procedure!" one muttered.
Carla gave a patient smile. "Suturing helps big wounds heal faster. It prevents them from tearing open again. It's nothing strange."
Annie and Bertholdt nodded obediently, but when they glanced at each other, they still looked mournful. Poor Reiner. Getting stitched like cloth—it had to be suffering.
Reiner: pitiful child, may you endure.
…
Zeke: The eldest son burdened with expectations, forced into medicine before soldiering.
Eren: The carefree child, trusted without reason.
Zeke: Dad never loved me!