Chapter 173: In the Hospital room

It took both Elowen and Runi working together before Meira finally loosened her hold.

Erik collapsed onto the pillow, mouth open as he gulped air like a fish just tossed back into the water. Runi covered her mouth, her shoulders trembling. Felyn turned away, but a soft giggle still slipped through her fingers.

Meira straightened and smoothed down her disheveled hair, her face flushed all the way to her neck.

"I was checking Master’s breathing."

"By making him stop breathing, Mother?" Elowen asked, her voice still thick from crying.

"His breathing is excellent." Meira did not blink. "He is healthy enough to struggle."

Felyn burst out laughing. Elowen bit her lip, though the corners of her mouth kept curling upward. Meira glanced around, trying to maintain a serious expression for two more seconds, before she also snorted with laughter and used the back of her hand to wipe the moisture at the corner of her eye.

The room suddenly felt lighter.

Meira pulled a chair close and placed her palm on Erik’s chest. Pale green light seeped through the bandages, cool as an early morning breeze. She closed her eyes for a long time.

Then her brows drew together slightly, as though she had heard her own voice echoing from somewhere impossible.

She opened her eyes and looked at him without asking anything.

Erik understood that look.

He nodded faintly, a promise that he would tell her later.

Meira let out a breath and held up seven fingers before him.

"Seven days. No magic. No weapons. No getting out of bed by yourself."

"Could we make it five?"

She raised another finger.

Eight.

"Seven days sounds perfect," Erik immediately said.

A soft knock came from the door.

Felyn tilted her head and listened. "Saraya?"

The door opened a crack.

Saraya stood there, holding an insulated food container wrapped in cloth against her chest as though it were something fragile. Her hair had been hastily tied back.

She wore a plain dress with no jewelry, no makeup, no lipstick. A bandage on her index finger had begun to peel at one corner, revealing a fresh red burn beneath it.

Elowen raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing. Meira remained seated and gave Saraya a faint nod, as though greeting a guest who had once visited the mansion.

"Runi... sent me a message." Saraya placed the container on the bedside table, pushing it forward with her fingertips before immediately drawing them back. "I brought some soup. I’ll leave it here and go."

After saying that, she turned around.

"Saraya."

Her step froze midway.

"I can’t hold a spoon." Erik glanced at his arms in their braces. "Wait until I finish eating, then take the container back."

Elowen looked at him, then at Saraya, and shook her head with a quiet smile, as though she had seen this coming. She reached for the container and opened the lid.

Steam rose from it, carrying the scent of stewed chicken mixed with something burned at the bottom of the pot. Uneven chunks of carrots floated inside.

Elowen scooped up a spoonful, blew on it lightly, and brought it to his lips.

Salty.

Erik’s tongue went numb for a second before the burnt flavor spread, clinging to his throat.

He swallowed. "More."

A second spoonful.

A third.

Saraya stood by the door, both hands twisting the hem of her dress, her eyes fixed on every movement of the spoon. Each time Erik swallowed, her shoulders trembled faintly.

By the final spoonful, Erik looked up.

"Too salty. And it’s burnt."

Saraya bit her lip, her face reddening all the way to her ears.

"But I finished it."

Beside the bed, Felyn smiled softly, her hand tightening slightly atop the blanket as though she had just received good news herself.

Saraya stepped forward to take the empty container. Her fingers brushed Elowen’s.

Neither of them pulled away.

Before Saraya could retreat, Meira silently placed a bottle of burn ointment atop the container. Her eyes rested upon Saraya’s injured finger for another moment before she turned away as though she had done nothing.

Saraya lowered her head quickly and walked toward the door.

"Use less salt next time," Elowen said without looking at her.

"And put medicine on that finger," Erik added.

Saraya paused.

She did not look back. She only hugged the container more tightly to her chest.

"...Okay."

The door closed.

On the left side of Erik’s chest, one petal was gradually cooling.

It was not the fresh green petal that remained steadily warm whenever Felyn was near. This was another warmth, hot and vivid like summer sunlight falling over a lake.

It had begun when Saraya bent down to take the container, and slowly faded with the sound of her footsteps moving farther down the hallway.

Erik looked at the closed door, his brows creasing slightly.

He remembered Meira saying that morning in the carriage that the hidden magic within Saraya and Felyn was strangely alike.

He said nothing, only quietly tucked that suspicion away in a corner of his mind.

"How interesting."

Laviana had somehow appeared against the window frame without anyone noticing. Her tight black dress traced every curve, its slit rising to mid-thigh. Red heels clicked against the floor, and her crimson hair fell over her bare shoulder.

She walked forward slowly, her hips swaying with each step, then sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her long legs, completely ignoring Meira’s warning glare.

The sweet scent of wine spread through the room, overwhelming even the smell of antiseptic.

"I once pushed my own daughter to compete with that girl for you." She smiled. "Now she is making soup for you. This world truly has a sense of humor."

She leaned closer.

Red hair spilled across Erik’s chest, soft and fragrant. Her slender fingertip traced the bandages slowly as though reading braille, then stopped precisely above the four-petaled flower concealed beneath them.

The mark remained silent. Only his heart skipped a beat.

"Your heart is racing," she whispered, her warm breath brushing his neck. "Is it because of me, or because of the girl who just left?"

Before he could answer, her long, slender, snake-like tongue slipped from her red lips and slowly traced the rim of his ear.

Wet. Warm. Ticklish enough to make Erik’s entire back stiffen.

He wanted to pull away, but his braced arms and three cracked ribs gave him nowhere to go.

"LAVIANA!"

A chair crashed backward.

Meira lunged forward, knocking Laviana aside with her hip, then used both arms to pull Erik’s entire head against her chest. She held him tight like a puppy clutching a bone while the whole world tried to steal it away.

For the second time that day, Erik was buried between two enormous breasts.

Meira’s green eyes glared at Laviana. She was only a step away from baring her teeth and growling.

"Master is injured! No licking! No blowing on him! No breathing near him!" Meira enunciated every word. "He is my patient!"

"Meira..." Erik’s voice came out muffled from somewhere between her breasts. "My ribs..."

Meira froze and loosened her hold a little.

Only a little.

Her arms still surrounded his head like a fence, her chin resting atop his hair, her eyes never leaving Laviana for even a second. Elowen sighed and silently pulled the blanket all the way up to Erik’s chin with more force than necessary.

Runi pulled out her small notebook and seriously added another line.

Do not allow Lady Laviana near the bed.

Felyn had laughed so hard that she needed to hold Runi’s arm just to remain standing.

Laviana laughed, rose to her feet, and lightly ran her tongue across her lips as though she had just finished tasting dessert.

"Calm down, Meira. I was only helping you check his temperature. He is very hot." Her voice deepened. "The entire city watched his lightning wings. My Serpent Eye cut the footage when he collapsed, but by then it was already too late. And the Council has been silent. Not a word. A snake that does not hiss is a snake preparing to bite."

At the door, she looked back, red lips curling.

"Oh. How many more women are you planning to take in? I need to know how many extra chairs to order for the dining table."

The sound of her heels gradually faded.

Elowen looked toward the door, her pointed ears drooping.

"You do not have to answer that," she muttered.

Ting!

[Current Faith: 2.6%]

[Accumulated Emotional Energy: Threshold exceeded.]

[Realm: Bronze Rank 1 → Bronze Rank 3]

[Note: The host is recovering. Energy is being used to strengthen the body.]

Warmth spread throughout Erik’s body, seeping into every joint. The pain in his ribs eased, as though someone had loosened a rope cinched tightly around his chest.

He lay in a hospital bed without channeling even a thread of magic, yet his realm had risen by two ranks.

Those who had watched him fall and rise again had sent a portion of their emotions back to his Heavenly Gate.

He looked at his braced arms and remembered the feeling of Lightning elemental energy tearing through his blood vessels at the guard station.

This body was still not enough.

Once his arms healed, he would need someone to teach him how to train properly.

He did not tell anyone.

No one needed to know yet why he always wanted to grow stronger.

Late at night, Elowen and Erik accomplished something no one else in the hospital had dared to do.

They sent Meira to sleep.

Elowen pointed at the dark circles beneath her mother’s eyes. Erik pointed at the chair Meira had sat in for two full days. Meira looked at the two of them, opened her mouth to argue, then closed it.

In the end, she gave a quiet huff, bent down to kiss Erik’s forehead, then Elowen’s, quickly and decisively, as though stamping a seal.

"At the end of the hallway. Call me immediately if anything happens."

Runi folded the patient care guide into quarters, tucked it into her chest pocket, then patted it twice.

"Tomorrow morning, I will bring clean clothes for you. I can go by myself."

"Watch the road."

"I will check it three times."

Felyn laughed and took Runi’s hand to lead her to the door. Before leaving, she turned her face toward the bed and gave a small wave.

"Good night, Erik."

Only the pulse monitor and the two of them remained in the room.

Elowen did not return to her own room.

She pulled a chair close to the bed, sat with her knees drawn up, rested her chin on them, and looked at him.

"This afternoon, I watched the recording again."

Erik said nothing.

He waited.

"I saw you crawl through the rubble to check whether I was still breathing." Her fingers worried at the edge of the blanket. "I saw you use your teeth to tie my hand to yourself."

Her voice was steady. She was not trembling.

But her pointed ears had lowered completely, and Erik knew that was worse than tears.

"I do not want to become stronger so I can stand in front of you anymore." Elowen looked up. "I want to become stronger so that next time, I am the one carrying you home."

Erik looked at her for a long time.

Then he smiled faintly.

"Alright. Next time, I will let you carry me."

Her pointed ears perked up slightly.

"And Saraya..." she hesitated.

"She is not a bad person," Erik said softly. "She simply has never understood what loving someone means. She thought love meant holding on, being indulged by someone."

He looked up at the ceiling. "Today’s soup was the first time I saw her do something for another person without demanding anything in return. I want to give her a chance to keep learning that. To learn how to love others, not only me."

Elowen fell silent.

Then she muttered, "That soup was awful."

"Very awful."

"If she makes you sad again, I will blow her away." She spoke with complete seriousness. "And if she makes soup again, I will teach her how to season it."

Erik laughed, then winced as his ribs protested.

Elowen immediately started to rise, but he shook his head and glanced at the narrow space to his left.

"I cannot hold you," he said. "So..."

Elowen blushed.

Her pointed ears turned pink beneath the bedside light. She glanced toward the door, slipped off her shoes, then climbed in slowly. Lying on her side to his left, she carefully avoided his cracked ribs.

The bed creaked.

Both of them held their breath and listened, but no footsteps came from the end of the hallway.

Elowen let out a quiet laugh and rested her cheek against his shoulder. Her silver hair spread over the pillow, cool and fragrant with the scent of wind. Her fingers found his left hand and laced through each of his fingers, gentle as though afraid of breaking him.

After a while, she pushed herself up and looked down at him, resting on one elbow. The yellow light fell over her face and her slightly swollen jade-green eyes.

"Next time," she whispered, "do not make me watch you nearly die through a screen again."

She bent down and kissed him.

It was neither hurried nor forceful.

Only a long, slow kiss, like someone returning home after a distant journey and laying a hand on the door to make sure everything was still there.

Erik could not raise his arms to pull her closer, so he could only return the kiss with his lips, his breath, and the slight tilt of his head toward her.

When she pulled away, their foreheads remained together.

"Promise me," she said.

"I promise."

Elowen lay down again, curling closer to him. Her cold foot lightly brushed against his beneath the blanket.

She told him about the rolled omelet that had burned at the edges three times before they left. He told her about the pot of rice he once burned in his hometown because he had been too absorbed in reading.

She demanded that he teach her how to make chicken soup once his hands recovered, so she could teach Saraya afterward.

He laughed until his ribs hurt.

She pinched his hand in retaliation.

Her voice gradually slowed, then fell silent.

Erik tilted his head, his lips lightly touching her silver hair.

Elowen had fallen asleep. Her steady breath brushed his neck, and her hand remained intertwined with his.

He lay still, listening to that breathing.

For the first time since arriving in this world, he did not want to think about tomorrow.

...

Across the street, on the roof of a building where the lights had gone out, a figure sat with her knees drawn up.

Very long silver-white hair fell around her, melting into the darkness like strands of mist. Her face had no eyes or nose, only a faint red cross directed toward the single window where the bedside lamp remained lit.

She had been sitting there since the afternoon.

She had seen the golden-haired girl enter and leave with a container in her arms, her shoulders trembling.

She had seen the red-haired woman lean against that very window frame, smiling toward the night as though she knew someone was watching.

She had seen the blind girl and the small girl leave hand in hand, the smaller one patting her pocket twice as though afraid of losing something precious.

But that eyeless face kept turning back toward the window.

Behind the thin curtain, two figures lay close together on a narrow bed. One bent down to kiss the other, then lay back and curled up like a small cat.

She tilted her head left, then right, like a child looking at a toy she had never seen before.

Ever since the window had lit up, she had counted.

That man had smiled seven times.

The silver-haired girl had cried once, smiled four times, and blushed three times.

The large golden-haired woman had dropped a cup, then hugged him so tightly that he could not breathe.

Twice.

None of them had done those things because they were ordered to.

None of them gained anything from it.

Then why did they do it?

She leaned over the edge of the roof, her hand gripping the stone railing. The black liquid beneath her palm seeped out, leaving a dark stain like ink. It slowly dripped down, then dried into a mark that could never be washed away.

She did not notice.

"How strange," she whispered.

The red cross on her face lit faintly.

"What do those things... feel like?"