[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke novel Chapter 188

Chapter 188: Xion Has a Crush on His Grace

The door to the lab creaked open.

Xion stepped out carrying the weight of a large bag hanging at his shoulders. It was packed with potions, scrolls, and tools he carefully selected.

The cool morning breeze brushed past him like a greeting, tugging lightly at the hem of his new white shirt.

For a moment, he could only stand there, taking in the sight quietly.

The valley stretching before him was the same battleground where orcs and humans had fought to the death just hours ago. And now, it was bathed in a soft golden hue as if the previous destruction was just an illusion.

The sun had barely risen, still nestled low on the horizon like a shy guest peeking through the curtains of the world. Light spilled over the treetops in warm, gentle waves, brushing the sky with hues of lavender, peach, and blush-pink.

It was beautiful. No, it was breathtaking.

The kind of beauty that made you forget any nuisance, even just for a second. That made you pause mid-thought, mid-step, mid-exhaustion, just to feel.

He hadn’t realized just how long he’d been inside.

In the lab, time passed differently. Ten hours in the lab equalled one in the real world. And yet, even with that advantage, it had felt like he’d been away for a long time.

And now out here... everything felt new to him.

He instinctively let out a slow breath. His nostrils were filled with the intoxicating scent of earth freshly wet with the dew.

A few breaths in such a peaceful sight and his mind felt clearer than it had been in days.

"Alright," he murmured, shifting the strap of the bag to a more comfortable position. "Let’s give it a shot."

The path ahead was long, maybe even suicidal. If he failed, it wouldn’t just be Darius who suffered. His own life would be on the line too.

But even considering that, one thing was clear to him. There was no more time to waste.

Xion was soon back in the camp. His boots crunched over broken twigs and damp leaves, each step echoing faintly in the still air.

Morning had only just begun, but the camp was already stirring with movement.

The aftermath of the previous night’s chaos still lingered. People were bustling between tents, carrying herbs and bandages.

Knights patrolled with tense vigilance, double-checking barricades. Without a doubt, they all were wary of another attack.

The soft murmur of voices mixed with the occasional clang of armor and the low groans of the wounded filled the air.

As he walked through the camp, he could feel the weight of countless eyes on him. Among them were members of Joy.

Xion silently bowed his head slightly, his fingers curled over the straps of his bag as he quickened his pace.

Yet, the longer he walked, the heavier those gazes became.

But it wasn’t the kind of heaviness he had braced himself for. It wasn’t judgment, nor suspicion. In fact, it wasn’t negative at all.

The people around him were actually grateful. If not for him, many of them would have been digging graves this morning instead of tending to the living.

And then there was the healing. Xion had treated injuries without hesitation, charging only a single copper.

Truthfully, even if he had demanded silver, they would’ve paid without complaint.

Aside from their gratitude, there was something else flickering behind the many glances sent his way... curiosity.

Xion’s clothes, though the simplest he could find, still looked nothing like what anyone around here wore. A white shirt paired with fitted black pants.

Just one look and they could tell that the fabric was far too refined, the cut too sharp. It was subtle, but it still stood out all the same.

Who dressed Lord Xion like that? More importantly, where did one even get clothes like that?

But of course, no one dared to ask. They could not afford the ire if they accidentally made Lord Xion angry.

Xion, unaware of the hushed conversations and curious glances trailing behind him, headed straight for the central tent surrounded by many knights.

"You’re finally back!"

Ray was the first to notice him. But the little purple-haired shadow darted forward before anyone else could move.

Noxian was already at his side in the next heartbeat.

"Brother! Let me carry your bag. It must be heavy, right?"

Xion just smiled while skillfully sidestepping the boy’s outstretched hands. Those dim eyes tugged at something deep in his chest, but even so, he couldn’t let Noxian touch the contents.

A vampire. That was the first word that floated through Xion’s mind. Regal, dangerous, beautiful. Even in his weakest state, the archduke radiated that same unsettling grace.