RODH Chapter 94

94.

The skies had cleared, but the storm raged on.

Lucius jerked his chin toward the hut.

At once, his men moved as if on cue, surrounding it.

“So the dark magic is inside here.”

“That’s right.”

Alvis, like Ian, was tense with unease.

Dark magic was different from the ominous mana that the Demon Lord had once exuded.

Alvis hated dark magic itself—because it could consume the caster’s very life.

“Be careful. Lord Michael’s dark magic can make imagination into reality.”

“Whoa, such a thing is possible?”

Lucius’s eyes widened.

“Yes.”

“How fascinating. Still, against our brave southern soldiers—”

“Arghhh!”

Before Lucius could finish, a black form hurled men out the door.

Ian felt the hair on his body stand and quickly asked Alvis,

“Lord Alvis, can’t you restrain Lord Alex like before?”

“If I can’t see the caster, it’s difficult.”

“Then we’ll just have to go in.”

“Lucius!”

Lucian chased after Lucius, who charged in recklessly.

“Those damn fools!”

Seor cursed and ran after them as well.

Ian too tried to follow, though he knew he was running into danger, but Nevan’s hand seized him.

“Ian, stay here.”

“I want to help as well. If life magic is needed—”

Nevan’s expression darkened.

He shook his head firmly, refusing.

“No. Ian, you must never use that magic again.”

He kissed the scar across Ian’s hand, shaking his head still.

“I promised Lord Michael.”

Ian tried to recall the promise he had made to Michael, but Nevan only turned to Lucius’s soldiers.

“See that the young heir is looked after.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Nevan!”

Ian sighed, watching him turn his back so coldly.

Inside, the hut was chaos.

Alex’s magic had begun to spiral out of control.

Curled up, Alex couldn’t rein in the rampaging mana.

Alvis came in late and cast Lock, but once magic ran wild, it burned like an uncontrollable blaze.

“It’s dangerous!”

At his warning, the others carried out the fallen.

The hut filled with black flames, and villagers watched from a distance in horror.

Lucius, seeing the uncontrollable state, barked to his men,

“Damn it! Protect the villagers! Get them all inside!”

“Yes, sir!”

As his men hurried to evacuate the villagers, Lucius asked Alvis,

“Hey, mage. Left as is, won’t it explode?”

“It will.”

“The damage?”

“An entire village could be gone easily.”

“No other way?”

“I’ll raise a mana shield. Buy me some time.”

As Alvis chanted, the ground shook faintly, and a great beam of light erupted upward.

Ian watched from afar.

Something was definitely going wrong.

“My apologies.”

With a brief whisper of regret, Ian stomped on the feet of Lucius’s men restraining him.

“Young heir! You mustn’t go in!”

But he had stepped so hard they yelped, and he slipped away like a rabbit.

His scalp prickled with irritation.

“Damn it, why did I ever make that promise…”

Michael must still be firmly believing—

believing that Ian would save Alex.

There was no reason at all to prove that himself.

He wasn’t close to Michael, and Peter—Peter had been the lunatic who once slit his throat in his past life.

And yet, he could not stop his feet.

Ian slipped inside the hut while Seor, Nevan, Lucian, and Lucius were all busy moving the wounded.

“Ian!”

Nevan’s voice reached him, but Ian felt mana dome over the entire hut.

Alvis’s spell had succeeded.

Ian slowly approached the writhing Alex.

As life magic opposed dark magic, so too did dark magic oppose life.

“Let’s see what happens when opposites meet.”

Ian grasped Alex’s wrist.

Immediately, searing pain like fire scorched him.

“Kh….”

But only for a moment—something began to flow into his body.

He understood instinctively.

It was mana.

He was draining away all of Alex’s rampaging mana.

The dark magic, like iron jaws gnashing open and shut, began to settle.

Ian’s head burned hotter and hotter.

But he held on, waiting until every trace of that ominous mana was gone.

Then—crash! Glass shattered.

Ian pulled Alex close, almost shielding him.

‘Young heir, I beg you. Shameless as it is, won’t you save my brother?’

Michael’s voice echoed in his head as he met Alex’s gaze.

“You are….”

“You took your damn time waking up, you bastard.”

“……”

“Ah, no strength.”

“Ian!”

As voices called him from every side, Ian let consciousness slip away.

* * *

Had I brushed the threshold of death again?

I cursed my body that still refused to rise even after so long.

Then Berkisto’s journal came to mind.

Those born with life magic may die and yet return—but the more death is repeated, the longer it takes to awaken again.

At my ear I heard Bain’s crying and voices speaking, but they were too small, and too many spoke at once, so I could not make out a single word.

I lingered in that haze for what felt like an age, until I finally opened my eyes in the middle of the night.

My vision was blurred, my jaw felt stiff.

My body was so rigid I had to wait a while before it loosened.

I longed to wet my dry throat and managed to speak.

“Bain.”

At that small voice, the door flung wide open and Nevan entered.

I widened my eyes in surprise.

I couldn’t move my arms or legs and needed support.

“Ian.”

Nevan knelt before me and brushed my forehead.

“It’s not a dream…”

A faint voice, like a candle about to go out, reached me.

I asked him to call Bain.

But Nevan, with a face caught between crying and holding back tears, seemed not to hear.

“I thought you were leaving me.”

It felt like I had been struck hard in the chest.

I had hurt him again.

I was too busy throwing myself at what I thought I had to solve, never sparing a thought for those around me.

Nevan was part of that too.

How bitter he must have felt.

And how long had I been asleep?

“How many days…”

I tried to ask, but my throat tore with pain.

A fit of coughing began, and soon Bain rushed in, wailing.

“Young master, young master! Uhhhuuhh!”

“I’m… thirsty.”

“Yes, uhhuhuh, I’ll bring water right away!”

His face was both pale with shock and streaked with tears.

I drank the water and, with Bain’s help, sat my stiff body upright.

“How many days was I unconscious?”

“What do you mean, days? Don’t you remember? You’ve been lying there for two weeks….”

“What?”

I couldn’t believe it.

For me it had felt like a fleeting moment, yet it had been two weeks?

I knew each repeated death would take longer to wake from, but I hadn’t thought it would be this severe.

The last time, it had only been three days… if memory served.

“Ian.”

Nevan, still dazed, kissed the hand he held.

Dewlike tears clung to the ends of his long lashes.

I was too full of guilt to say anything.

The only words I managed were ones that didn’t fit the mood at all.

“Shall we just sleep on it? It seems to be night.”

“Ian.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you do something so reckless?”

Now that I thought of it—what had become of Alex? And of Sir Hubert the elder?

But before I could ask, Nevan scolded me.

“I heard from Lord Alvis that life magic is not all-powerful. Never—never again should you do something so reckless.”

“I was wrong.”

Nevan let out a short sigh.

Watching his face, I finally asked what weighed most on me.

“What of House Hubert? Lord Alex, and Sir Hubert the elder…?”

“Both are safe.”

“That’s a relief.”

“You were the only one who would not wake.”

“……”

“I thought you had fallen asleep forever. Like before.”

“Nevan.”

“Do not use magic again. I beg you.”

I hadn’t thought Nevan would ever use the word “beg.”

Northerners avoided that word, knowing how heavy a burden it placed on the other.

“Are you laying a debt on me now?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it is my fault, so I can’t argue.”

Nevan smiled faintly.

Without realizing how soaked in sweat I was, I tugged his jaw down and kissed him with a smack.

Bain had long since slipped away during our talk.

I whispered to Nevan,

“Who knows when I’ll collapse like that again. Should we do something wicked while we can?”