SWY 10

“When did it start?”

“It’s been about an hour.”

Where Lestel’s gaze fell, a boy lay trembling as if in a seizure, his bloodshot eyes staring blankly into the air. His cracked, pale lips and skin as dry as parched earth made his suffering obvious. When Lestel reached out and touched the boy’s forehead, he clicked his tongue. It had only been a light touch, but the heat was so intense it startled him.

“The seizure intervals are getting shorter.”

“What did Yuel say?”

Simon, watching the boy writhe and gasp in pain, asked in a worried voice. Lestel, sitting in a chair by the bed and holding the boy’s hand, replied.

“He said the tea originated from Luhas.”

“Luhas… the western territory where they sealed the monsters?”

“Yeah. Apparently, the tea’s made from a herb called Rascul that only grows there.”

“Did he say an antidote could be made?”

“He said he’d need six months.”

“That’s too long!”

“I told him the same. But it seems he really can’t cut it down. Even when I said we’d pay him as much as he wanted, the guy who lights up at the sight of money still said no. So six months must really be the limit.”

Simon’s face twisted. The boy, who had just been burning with fever, now began to shiver from cold. A pale breath leaked between his bluish lips. Lestel frowned as he felt the boy’s temperature through his hand. He was so cold he felt like a corpse. If not for the breath, one might think he’d stopped breathing altogether.

There really isn’t much time left.

The boy’s symptoms were worsening rapidly. Now he had multiple seizures a day, swinging from fever to chills, turning violent, and then passing out again. He was already skinny, and with no appetite, he was wasting away. They’d tried every expensive medicine they could get, but nothing was working.

His condition was declining faster than expected. His body was so weak it was impossible to know how long he’d last – months, weeks, or maybe just days. Honestly, it wouldn’t be surprising if he died right now.

“I’ll go to Luhas. If that’s where the tea was made, then the antidote is probably there too. And if not, I’ll find whoever made it and force them to create one.”

Simon clenched his fists so tightly the veins stood out, his eyes burning with fury.

“I’ll go. You stay here with Alum.”

Lestel stood, gently letting go of the boy’s hand. He’d decided this the moment Yuel had mocked him, telling him to go himself if he was in such a hurry. Simon hadn’t expected that at all and stared wide-eyed.

“You’re going personally, Master?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a long journey. And Luhas has a terrible reputation, it could be dangerous. And it’ll get colder soon. What if you catch something?”

Simon fussed like an older brother worried for his reckless little sibling. He was, in fact, a few years older than Lestel, though that didn’t mean Lestel was childish.

“I hired a mercenary to use as a shield, didn’t I? I’ll just make Shan do all the hard, dangerous work and stay safely behind him. He and I will go together, so you stay and look after the guild.”

Lestel’s mood lifted as he thought about ordering Sharhan around. Humming to himself, he tapped his chest. He could feel the rolled-up contract tucked there. As long as that existed, Sharhan was nothing more than a captured prey caught in his trap. Unless Lestel let him go, he couldn’t escape.

“Still, I’m uneasy… I’ll just hire a few idle mercenaries to go in your place.”

“I’ll be faster than you.”

Simon looked healthy, but he was actually weak. He’d spent his childhood starving on the streets, and it had taken a toll. He wouldn’t survive a round trip to Luhas. And he’d need a carriage, while Lestel and Sharhan could ride horses.

“But-”

“I’ll go.”

Simon hesitated, looking between Lestel’s determined face and the corpse-like Alum. In the end, he nodded. He understood he didn’t have the strength to make the trip, and time was running out.

“Then at least take more guards with you.”

“Going with just Shan will be fastest. Too many people slows things down.”

“…Fine. When will you leave?”

“Today.”

“What?”

Lestel didn’t wait for Simon’s flustered reaction. He headed outside, planning to pack quickly and depart right away. But the person who should’ve been quietly waiting, Sharhan, was nowhere to be seen.

“Where did my honey run off to after ignoring what I said? I should call him back.”

With only the essentials packed and tied to his saddle, Lestel hummed cheerfully as he drew his dagger. The blade, bright and wickedly sharp, looked like it would cut deep with the slightest touch. Still smiling, Lestel slashed his own forearm.

***

At that moment, Sharhan was trudging back toward Lestel’s mansion like he was being dragged there. Even though the job paid twenty gold a month, he felt no motivation. He’d swung a sword like a madman on the battlefield for less money than this.

“Guarding Lestel… What a disgrace to the Kaios name…”

His grumbling didn’t last. Suddenly, his chest flared with pain. More precisely, the spot where the contract mark was burned hot, and an unbearable tightness clutched his heart. Clutching his left chest, Sharhan grimaced.

Wait, this is-

He knew immediately. It was the penalty built into the contract when the employer was harmed. He’d never felt this kind of pain before, but he understood.

Don’t tell me Lestel’s hurt?

The next second, his body was already moving. His legs kicked off the ground, and he sprinted with everything he had. When he saw Lestel standing by the mansion gates in the distance, he didn’t slow down. He pushed harder, legs burning, until he reached him and grabbed him by the collar.

“You crazy bastard! Where are you hurt?!”

“Aww, honey, did you come running all worried about me?”

“Cut the crap! I said, where are you hurt?!”

Lestel smirked and held out his arm. Sharhan saw the handkerchief lazily tied around it, stained bright red. He frowned and untied it to reveal a clean slice from something sharp.

“It’s nothing serious, so don’t worry.”

“Who the hell is worrying about you? Me? Don’t be disgusting. Just tell me how the hell this happened.”

“If you’re not worried, why are you yelling?”

“Because when you got hurt, my fucking heart started hurting!”

“My wound hurt your heart that much? That’s kind of romantic.”

“Please save the bullshit for when I’m not around. Why would I feel pain because you’re hurt? If anything, I’m thrilled.”

Sharhan let go of Lestel’s collar and stepped back, face twisted in disgust. A quick glance confirmed the arm wound was the only injury. Since it wasn’t serious, the pain in his chest had passed quickly.

Now that he thought about it, he remembered something from their academy classes, “the greater the breach of contract, the harsher the penalty.”

Which meant he really did have to risk his life to make sure Lestel didn’t get hurt, not even a scratch. The thought that he was truly bound to Lestel made Sharhan’s brow furrow deeply.

“You don’t look thrilled.”

“I am thrilled. My heart just hurts from the mark, that’s all.”

Rubbing at his chest, Sharhan scowled as Lestel smiled slyly.

“Must’ve really hurt, huh?”

“It was a nasty kind of pain.”

Not like being stabbed or slashed, it was worse.

“And after I told you to wait here, where’d you run off to?”

“I wasn’t running off. I was getting my stuff-”

“If you don’t want to feel that pain again, you better stick to me like glue, honey. What if I get hurt again while you’re gone?”

“I said I was just-”

Cutting him off, Lestel handed him the reins to one of two horses. They were the fastest and strongest of the ones that had pulled the carriage.

“Get on.”

“Can I finish a sentence?! And where the hell are we going now?”

“Luhas.”

“What?”

“I said, we’re going to Luhas.”

Lestel tapped Sharhan lightly on the cheek with the back of his hand before mounting his horse and galloping off. Sharhan stood frozen for a second, then ran after him. Lestel smirked and picked up speed.