Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 101

101. A Hand of Salvation

When hunting, one must watch their back. This rule doesn’t apply to hunting alone.

Also, just as the divine decree says to turn the other cheek when struck on one side, one must crush the left hand if the right is destroyed. There’s no reason to spare a harmful hand that could pick up a liquor bottle and strike at any moment.

Richard Spencer, his brain paralyzed with extreme rage, forgot the critical Spencer principle. He left the left hand intact and exposed his back to the enemy.

Everything, when pushed to the extreme, begins to decline. This principle also applied to Theresius.

When terror reached its peak, Theresius Wilford’s reason began to deteriorate. Grabbing a broken liquor bottle with his trembling left hand, he mustered all his strength to stand. Then, with his left arm, he swung in a wide arc.

With a dull thud, the bottle struck the back of Richard Spencer’s head before bouncing away. Struck by the blow, Richard collapsed to his knees and fell forward.

A torrential downpour began to pour from the sky. The atmosphere turned unstable in an instant.

Accompanied by lightning, the heavy rain made it impossible to see even an inch ahead. The relentless rain striking his face made it difficult to confirm whether Richard Spencer was still breathing.

Theresius dragged the fallen Richard into the bushes. Blood gushed out, staining the underbrush red.

He kicked Richard’s stomach several times, but there was no movement. The limp body swayed back and forth.

He’s dead.

Theresius stood in place and sobbed uncontrollably. It wasn’t guilt over having killed someone but rather the lightning-laden storm that had overtaken his life. He couldn’t see even an inch ahead.

He gathered whatever weeds and fallen leaves he could find nearby. He covered Richard Spencer’s body to hide the corpse. Once the rain stopped, he planned to return with a shovel and bury it.

The stepping stones were on the verge of being submerged. Theresius Wilford hastily crossed the stream and fled the scene. The heavy rain washed away the bloodstains, leaving no trace behind.

***

“W-what is this?”

Grace rushed toward the cave entrance but tripped over something hard, crashing to the ground. As far as she knew, there was no rock of this size in front of the cave.

Now drenched and covered in mud, she looked like a beggar. Grace rubbed her stinging eyes a few times and, half-lifting her flattened body, examined the obstacle that had tripped her.

“A-a person…?”

Grace blinked in disbelief. A human body lay submerged in a shallow puddle. The weeds and leaves Theresius had used to cover it had been washed away by the rain.

The person lying face down was a large man. Grace leaned forward to check the head. Blood seeped out in trickles from between the bright red hair.

A large man with bright red hair.

Like ivy crawling up a wall, a cold sensation surged down Grace Gurton’s spine like a bolt of lightning. At that moment, real lightning branched across the distant sky.

With a grunt, Grace turned the man’s body over. When she saw his face, her breath caught. She covered her mouth with both hands.

It was unmistakably Richard Spencer. She couldn’t believe the heir of a great noble family was lying here, bleeding and abandoned in such a desolate place.

Could he have been attacked by highwaymen? Surely, he wasn’t dead, was he?

It wasn’t even late at night, and it was unthinkable that someone would be insane enough to attack a noble in broad daylight. In Grentabridge, it would be harder to find someone who didn’t recognize Richard Spencer’s face. This must have been the impulsive act of someone familiar with him…

There’s no time for deductions, Grace Gurton.

Grace, her hands stiff with cold and fear, placed them on Richard’s chest. His heartbeat was very slow. That alone gave her some relief. At least he wasn’t dead.

But if left here, he would die. Blood was flowing from his head, and the rain would surely lower his body temperature further. Richard Spencer’s lips had turned not just pale but an alarming shade of blue.

With her strength, she couldn’t take Richard to the hospital. To make matters worse, the stepping stones were completely submerged, making it impossible to call for help.

She brushed back her damp hair, keeping her other hand on Richard’s left chest. There was no ulterior motive. She just needed to feel his heartbeat to be reassured.

The cave!

Soon, Grace remembered why she had come this way. Behind her was a cave that could provide shelter from the rain. It was too small for both her and Richard Spencer, but there was no other choice.

She needed to get Richard Spencer out of the rain immediately. Supporting herself with one hand on the ground, she pushed herself upright. Her knees, scraped from her earlier fall, were bleeding.

Grace Gurton is small. Richard Spencer is tall.

Grace Gurton is light. Richard Spencer is heavy.

If Grace Gurton were to move Richard Spencer, she’d have to apply mathematical principles, dispersing his weight and using ropes and wheels like the slaves of Egupt moving stones to build pyramids…

This isn’t the time for calculations, Grace Gurton.

Without hesitation, Grace bent down and slid her arms under Richard’s armpits. Then, using all her strength, she pulled the large man backward. He moved about an inch.

Humans often think of themselves as the superior species, masters of all things. But Grace now felt a profound doubt about such anthropocentric beliefs.

Ants can lift and carry objects 50 to 100 times their body weight. Yet Grace Gurton, a human, couldn’t move a body merely twice her weight. How weak humans truly are.

After approximately 200 attempts, Richard Spencer was finally inside the cave. While Grace Gurton had previously been cold and worried about hypothermia, she now felt like a raging furnace. She thought she could melt and digest iron with the heat radiating from her body.

Meanwhile, Richard Spencer’s body was growing colder. His complexion had turned even paler than when he had been in the rain, making him look almost ghostly.

Grace clumsily began undressing Richard Spencer. Though as a lady she should have closed her eyes, she kept them slightly open, knowing she wouldn’t be able to unbutton his shirt otherwise. Removing his rain-soaked, clinging clothes took a considerable amount of time.

After wringing out his drenched shirt and jacket, she laid the shirt beneath his back and draped the jacket over his upper body. Without any tools to start a fire, this was the most practical way she could prevent heat loss.

Barely catching her breath, she suddenly remembered the wound on the back of Richard’s head that she had seen earlier. It was time to stop the bleeding.

For a bandage…

Without hesitation, Grace tore the hem of her dress. The action was as quick and precise as ripping open an envelope.

Holding the torn fabric, she stepped outside the cave and washed it in the rain, thoroughly removing dirt, twigs, and leaves. She quickly returned to Richard and examined the wound on the back of his head. It was a laceration from something sharp. Fortunately, the cut wasn’t deep.

There are days when experience at the poorhouse proves useful.

The poorhouse was a place where accidents frequently occurred. Injured children were common, and as a result, Grace had learned basic first aid techniques.

Relying on her memory, she began wrapping the long strip of fabric around Richard’s head, pressing and securing it to stop the bleeding. Her hands worked quickly to fix the bandage in place. Though her movements briefly faltered, she managed to finish the job.

Richard’s body was still ice-cold. Without a fire, it was inevitable. No matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t come up with a way to generate heat.

Grace hesitated before vigorously rubbing Richard’s chest. Though her intention was to transfer warmth, the effort yielded little effect over time.

She cursed the god for forcing her to resort to the one action she had been trying to avoid since entering the cave. Her mouth felt unbearably dry.

The decision was made.

Grace Gurton stripped off her dress. Wearing only a thin chemise, she shivered as she crawled into Richard Spencer’s frigid embrace.

Then, she grabbed the discarded dress and threw it over their joined bodies.