[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke

The North wasn't perfect. Then again, no place ever was.

But with the way things were steadily turning for the better, the bordering nations had begun keeping a wary, watchful eye on the Archduke.

The security had become much stricter than when Xion had entered with his small group.

One of the most notable changes was the newly opened school, established under the guidance of the North's second lord, Darius Rael Darkhelm's beloved husband.

There was also a new healing house that treated even commoners, earning the two lords overwhelming adoration from the people.

That goodwill was strong enough to smother even the faint rumours that the divine healer had committed terrible deeds at the Archduke's command, and now he was being punished by the heavens.

The first time Darius had heard such nonsense, he'd laughed outright. Still, it made one thing perfectly clear to him.

Everyone saw Xion as an angel. Someone who could do no wrong.

And since the North was his domain, that made Darius nothing short of a god. An evil god who had snatched heaven's sweet darling.

As for himself, Darius couldn't care less about how others saw him. But when it came to his Xion?

No. That was something he would never allow anyone to tarnish.

The people were lucky their gossip painted him as nothing more than an "evil bastard." In truth… they weren't wrong.

He was evil enough to dress his darling with his own hands and bring him straight to the one man Xion despised most.

He was taking Xion to Father Anton's church.

"Let's go back. I don't want my eyes in this way."

Darius stilled. He was sure he hadn't said anything to Xion, nor had he let anything out, so how?

"Darius... You are hurting me."

The Archduke instantly loosened the grip he had on Xion's hand.

"Ah, I apologize. That...I..." Darius turned around but couldn't say a proper word.

"Let's go back."

"... Fine."

They returned in silence.

Even in the carriage, he tried to talk, but his lips parted and then stuck back together.

Does Xion hate me now? Does he know everything? Many such questions ran through his mind.

Darius was sitting on pins and needles when Xion didn't ask him anything.

Xion, on the other hand, was actually busy conversing with his system.

'Where have you been all this time?'

[I got infected with a serious virus. Even now, my motherboard zaps for a few seconds.]

'Is that why you are acting so...' Xion had to pause to find the polite words, 'So hyperactive?'

[Just say 'so loud', if you want. It's not like I can't feel your emotions. And yes, it is part of the reason.]

As for the second reason? It was more due to the impression he had been gathering from humans around it.

Well, it didn't want to act all broody like the Archduke; Allen was too silent, and the host, Xion, was far too nice.

In the end, it ended up learning more from Noxian and Raymond, and both knights were on the same wavelength when it came to causing a ruckus.

All of it was now integrated into its internal system.

'You said you would find a cure for me. Did you?'

Xion's question was so calm and quiet that it might have been mistaken for a soft sigh.

But inside, his heart was thumping until he could feel it beating inside his temples.

He kept his face angled toward the carriage window, not that he could see anything, but it gave the illusion of distance from the person sitting in front of him.

Due to his hurry to talk with his system, he didn't remember to push his hood away.

And to Darius, it was as if Xion was forbidding him from looking at him.

[Yes.]

Just one word from the system, and his heart lurched so hard it almost hurt.

'For the poison?'

[For everything, Host.]

'Everything?'

[The poison gnawing at your veins. The rot in your eyes. The frailty that has been chaining you down since birth. All of it will be gone.]

It didn't speak with its usual flippancy. This time, the answer was straightforward and equally sharp.

Xion's lips parted soundlessly. He leaned back against the cold leather. If Darius looked his way now, he would see nothing but fabric. Thank the heavens.

Because right now, his expression was breaking into something reckless — something bright and trembling.

There was a smile on his lips, and yet the moisture kept gathering in his eyes.

I will be able to walk without stumbling.

To breathe without tasting blood in my throat.

To look upon the face I love the most… with his own eyes.

A small, stupid sound — a breathless laugh — nearly escaped him, but he bit it back and pressed his lips together until they stung.

[You want it, don't you?]

'…Yes.' The word slipped out before he could leash it.

[Then it's simple.]

He felt his brows draw together. 'Simple?'

[All you have to do… is stop the Hunt.]

The smile that had been trembling at the edges of his mouth froze there, fragile as frost on glass.

'The hunt?'

[Yes, host. You need to call it off.]

Although Xion wasn't that aware of all the traditions of the north, he knew enough to guess that this Hunt was one of the most important ceremonies.

Influential enough for the enemies to cross the borders so they could also join in.

After all, it was not only a way to measure the warriors' strength, but also a subtle means of asserting dominance over the others.

The whole castle had been preparing for it for a long time.

[Cancel it. Make sure it doesn't happen. That alone would save hundreds of lives. More than enough to buy you the panacea.]

Xion turned the words over slowly.

The hunt.

The annual bloodletting that the North's nobility disguised as sport. It was one of the reasons why they called Northerners savages.

But there was no reason for hundreds to die. Unless…