I Reincarnated to Another World as a Woman-Chapter 217: Thrown Out

Captain Chambers and a few other officers are loitering around the gate, glancing at the entrance every few minutes.

Captain Chambers is pacing back and forth like a father anxiously waiting for his wife who is in labor.

He has never felt this helpless before. Being a strong Sentinel, someone who has always been on the front line, he never thought he would live to see a day like this. A day where all he could do was wait. A day where he could do nothing else.

Waiting is worse than fighting.

At least in a fight, he can act.

"Captain, here. Have something to eat." An officer approaches him, holding out an egg sandwich.

Captain Chambers accepts it out of habit, fingers closing around the warm bread. But he makes no attempt to eat it. He just stares at it for a moment, then shifts his gaze back to the gate.

Seconds pass. Then more.

He sighs.

He looks back down at the egg sandwich. It feels foreign in his hands. The concept of food. Of eating. Of sustaining himself while others might be dying inside the dungeon. It feels he’s betraying his comrades.

He swallows and tightens his grip on the sandwich, then lowers his hand.

"Oh my God, Captain! Look! The gate!"

The officer’s shocked voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

Captain Chambers whips his head toward the gate.

It pulses.

His heart slams against his ribs.

"Hurry!" he barks, voice carrying across the site. "Gather here! They might need help!"

He does not need to repeat himself.

The moment the word gate leaves his mouth, officers are already moving. People rush toward the entrance instinctively, forming a wide arc.

The gate hums softly, its surface rippling like disturbed water.

The crowd forms a tense semi-circle around it, everyone braced, everyone ready.

Then, in a sudden burst of motion, Liam, Julian, and Maeve spill out of the gate, each of them carrying an unconscious person.

For a split second, the site freezes.

Then training kicks in.

Officers surge forward immediately, hands reaching out, taking the unconscious bodies from Rhaenas’ arms. There is no shouting, no confusion, only fast, efficient movement.

The moment the three hand their burdens over, they do not stop.

They turn.

And without hesitation, they dive straight back into the gate.

With the egg sandwich now completely squashed in his hand, Captain Chambers snaps into command mode.

"Triage!" he orders, voice ringing across the site. "Separate Captain Thierry’s three teams from Chief Lutherford’s team. Now!"

Officers move immediately, dragging stretchers into place, calling out names, checking pulses, pupils, breathing.

"Saveable on this side. Unsavable on the other."

The words taste like poison in his mouth.

His voice cracks as he says it.

Who is he to decide who gets to be saved and who does not?

Who gave him that right?

But this is the reality of command. This is the part no one glorifies. Someone has to make the call, and today, that someone is him.

Maeve bursts out of the gate again, carrying another unconscious officer. Her movements are slower now, labored. She hands the officer over.

She turns, intending to go back in.

But her knees buckle.

Exhaustion crashes into her all at once.

She stumbles, her body swaying dangerously.

An officer lunges forward just in time and catches her before she hits the ground.

"Ms. Collins!" he exclaims.

Captain Chambers turns at the shout and his heart sinks.

Maeve has collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving, panting hard. Her skin is ghostly pale, lips drained of all color. Cold sweat beads along her forehead and temples.

She looks seconds away from losing consciousness.

"Bring her to the infirmary tent to rest!" Captain Chambers orders sharply.

"No..." Maeve whispers.

The word barely carries.

She tries to push herself up, trembling. Her eyes flick toward the gate. Toward the dungeon.

Toward her team.

"Ms. Collins," Captain Chambers kneels beside her, lowering his voice, forcing it to stay calm.

"I know you want to go back. And I know why."

His throat tightens.

"And believe me, we appreciate it more than you know. You don’t know how much this means to us."

Maeve tries to shake her head, but she barely manages the motion.

"But you need rest," he continues gently. "You are useless if you collapse. You won’t be helping anyone like this."

She does not answer.

She cannot.

She only looks at him, eyes burning with stubborn determination despite the exhaustion dragging her under.

Captain Chambers exhales and shakes his head.

"It’s no use looking at me like that," he says softly. "You can’t even speak. How do you expect to walk, let alone carry another person?"

Tears pool in Maeve’s eyes, spilling over silently.

She knows he is right.

This is her limit.

But it does not make it hurt any less.

And she refuses to be led to the infirmary tent.

Flat out refuses.

No matter how many officers try to persuade her, Maeve stands her ground.

She stays near the gate. Period.

For the next few minutes, she sits on the grass with her back straight and her hands pressed to the ground, forcing her breathing to slow. She keeps her eyes locked on the gate, unblinking, afraid that if she looks away for even a second, something terrible will happen.

Julian and Liam keep exiting and entering the gate in turns, dragging unconscious officers with them. Every time they appear, the crowd surges forward. Every time they disappear again, Maeve’s heart clenches.

They are slowing down.

She can see it.

Their shoulders sag more each time. Their movements lose sharpness. Sweat darkens their clothes. Their faces are drawn, pale, eyes unfocused at the edges. They are exhausted beyond anything normal.

But they do not stop.

They refuse to stop.

Everything seems to be holding together, just barely, until—

A deep rumble rolls through the ground.

It is low at first, almost easy to miss. A vibration that crawls up through Maeve’s legs and into her spine.

Then, a few seconds later, it comes again.

Stronger.

The ground around the gate begins to shake, not violently, but insistently, as if something massive is stirring beneath the surface. It feels like an earthquake, but wrong. Too localized.

The vibration intensifies.

Then the gate itself trembles, shaking as if under immense pressure. People cry out, stumbling as they try to keep their footing.

Maeve surges to her feet, adrenaline overriding exhaustion.

Her heart slams against her ribs.

People start shouting, dragging stretchers away from the gate, scrambling to clear the area as fast as possible.

Then it happens.

The gate flashes.

Julian, Liam, Arthur, and a pile of unconscious bodies are violently expelled from the dungeon, tumbling out as if thrown by an invisible force. They hit the ground hard, rolling, colliding with each other and the sand.

Maeve runs toward them instinctively.

The three men scramble up, coughing, swearing, trying to orient themselves.

Without hesitation, they turn back toward the gate.

They try to run in.

They slam into it.

Nothing happens.

They try again.

The gate does not respond.

It does not pulse.

It does not open.

It is sealed.

Someone, or something, has blocked it.