The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 46: “Ugh…”

"Ugh... hngh!"

Lyric groaned sharply with his body tensing as pain tore through his shoulder again.

Even with Arctelle and Irlian working together, their mana could only do so much. The bleeding had stopped and the torn flesh was partially mended but the injury was far too severe to be completely healed.

"Please hold still, my lord," Irlian said carefully, his voice steady but respectful. "The wound has been stabilized. We cannot push the healing further without causing more harm."

Arctelle nodded, keeping his grip gentle yet firm. "We have done what we can for now, my lord. The deeper damage lies beyond our ability."

Then, Lyric let out a harsh breath through clenched teeth.

Lyric let out a harsh breath through clenched teeth, his chest rising and falling too quickly. "That’s it?" he snapped. "That’s all you can do?"

The pain hadn’t eased but it burned and numbed at the same time, sending sharp pulses through his arm. "Then why does it still hurt so much?" he demanded, frustration and fear slipping into his voice.

"Because it is only partially healed," Arctelle replied, lowering his gaze. "The mana closed the surface wounds, but the injury reached deeper structures, my lord."

Irlian slowed the flow of mana, careful and precise. "Forcing more healing would risk worsening the damage. Time and proper treatment will be needed."

"Time," Lyric scoffed weakly, turning his head away. "You say that like it doesn’t feel like my arm is being torn off every second."

Sylas stepped forward then, raising his hands slightly to calm him. "Brother," he said gently, "you are not in danger. You’re going to be okay so calm down, alright?"

Lyric shot him a sharp glance. "Easy for you to say," he muttered, his jaw tightening as another wave of pain hit.

His temper flared not out of malice, but because the pain and fear were grinding him down, stripping away what little patience he had left. "I can barely feel my arm anymore."

Arctelle bowed his head. "That numbness suggests deeper injury, my lord. With rest and the aid of a higher-tier healer, there is still hope for recovery. It is shameless of me but I can only do so much."

Lyric let out a shaky breath, exhaustion seeping into his expression. The wound hadn’t taken his life but it had left him weak, frightened, and on edge along with his emotions as raw as the injury itself.

Meanwhile, as dawn finally broke, the entourage from the northern temple arrived. Upon seeing them, Sylas and several knights stepped forward to receive them but without sparing a moment for formality, Sylas abruptly reached out and grabbed Soren by the wrist.

"You, come with me."

He didn’t slow down or offer any explanation as he pulled Soren along, with his grip firm and impatient while Cael, Caelius, and Alaric exchanged brief looks before following closely behind.

"Where is he?" Alaric asked with unease creeping into his chest.

Of all people, Lyric being injured was something he had never imagined.

"What were the other knights even doing for him to end up like that?" Cael muttered, irritation clear in his voice. Lyric was like a brother to him though his pride would never allow him to say it out loud.

Sylas didn’t stop walking. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but we must go to him immediately," he said tersely. "He’s... agitated and irritable that even after receiving treatment from the healers of the baron family, he wouldn’t really calm down."

His grip on Soren tightened unconsciously, so firm it would have gone numb though Soren himself showed no reaction.

And Caelius noticed.

He stared at Sylas’s hand around Soren’s wrist, his brows knitting slightly.

’That must hurt... so why isn’t he saying anything?’ he wondered silently.

"Fine," Cael said at last, glancing back at the newly arrived entourage. "See to Lyric first but you must inform me once things have settled."

He then turned to the others and issued orders for the entourage to rest, reminding them they would be back on duty by morning, before following after Sylas and the rest.

"Here we are..." Sylas muttered, flinging open the tent flap and entering it without letting go of Soren’s wrist.

No one really bothered to stop Sylas because they were all focused on how Lyric was doing. But when they fully turned inside, everything was a mess.

On the bed, Lyric was panting, sweating, and holding his pained shoulder.

He was glaring at them, clearly agitated.

"H-hey, are you going to keep staring? Gods, can you do your job now?" Sylas exclaimed, shoving Soren in Lyric’s direction.

"W-what? Are you really going to let a commoner heal me?" Lyric scoffed, trying to keep his expression calm despite the pain but when Soren still walked toward him, following Sylas’ order, Lyric’s anger flared up again.

"Please excuse me, my lord. It won’t take lo—"

"Go away! Don’t you dare touch me, you wretch!"

Lyric threw a knife at Soren, grazing his shoulder and blood ran down Soren’s left hand but he couldn’t feel if it was severe or minor, so he didn’t know whether to shout or stay still.

Cael, Caelius, and Alaric were surprised but did nothing to check Soren’s wound.

Instead, they stepped forward to help Lyric calm down, who was clearly hysterical except Caelius, who remained more reserved.

"Lyric... calm down. This commoner’s ability will surely help ease the pain, so bear with him, alright?" Alaric said, gently patting Lyric’s back while Sylas only glanced briefly at the droplets of blood on the ground and Soren’s shoulder before walking past him toward Lyric.

"So, how about you heal him now that he’s calming down? Or can’t you do it? I had high hopes for you. Come on, get moving!" Sylas muttered, then looked at Caelius, thinking he might also help.

"O-oh, you’re here?"

Caelius bowed and stepped closer, while Soren glanced back and forth between them, waiting for the final order while tending to his own wound.

"Well, how about this. Can you try attending to my brother now? He was telling me just days or weeks ago that he wanted to feel this commoner’s healing because he was curious, but now he says he doesn’t want it. Why don’t you try it instead? Come..."

"That’s right. You should try, Lord Rennovar..." Cael said, smirking as he glanced at Alaric and Lyric, who were holding back his curses to avoid appearing rude especially in front of Cael, the prince.

They were clearly drawing Soren out of the picture, making him feel unnecessary while focusing instead on Caelius’ presence. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"Oh, I can try and will do my best, my lord. Then, please excuse me..." Caelius said.

Before moving, he glanced at Soren who was stepping back, then turned back and approached Lyric. He lifted his hands, letting the golden light flow toward Lyric’s shoulders.

Cael, Alaric, and Sylas watched them quietly, completely ignoring Soren even though he had been the one they had asked to do it just a short while ago.

"How about it, my lord?" Caelius asked, watching how Lyric was reacting.

Lyric tried to rotate his shoulder, testing it, but groaned sharply as the pain flared again.

"Ugh..." he grimaced, glaring at Caelius.

"How is this possible? Why are you even here if you’re useless? Why can I still feel the pain? What the heck did you do that the pain won’t go away?"

He fired so many questions that Cael frowned, looking first at Caelius then turning his gaze to Soren, who was now standing by the tent flap while Sylas and Alaric exchanged confused glances.

"Wait, did the beast that attacked you, blooded?" Alaric asked, catching everyone’s attention especially Cael, who quickly averted his gaze from Soren.

"Yes, brother. It was covered in blood and severely wounded. I thought it was already dead, but it suddenly attacked me. That damn beast..." Lyric said while still clutching his shoulder.

"How can this be? Do you think some of its blood splashed into the wound?" Sylas asked while scowling with a hint of panic in his voice.

"That’s a probability," Cael muttered, holding his chin thoughtfully while Lyric stared at Alaric, clearly exhausted.

"I’m so tired... please, brother... do something..."

After a moment, Cael looked at Soren and flicked his finger, signaling him to come closer.

"Now, let him try to do his end of the bargain, okay? He’s paid, so don’t worry about it." Cael’s expression was serious as he glanced back and forth between Soren and Lyric.

Lyric remained quiet, too tired to argue.

"Then, please excuse me, my lord," Soren said.

After the commotion, Sylas remained by Lyric’s side with knights guarding the outside while Cael and Alaric went their separate ways to rest, since they hadn’t had a chance after arriving because Lyric had needed attention first.

Caelius, on the other hand, walked alongside Soren while constantly glancing at him.

"Do you have something to tell or ask me, my lord?" Soren asked, stopping just by the flap of his tent. It was the tent given to him by Alaric as a replacement for his smaller one.

"Oh, nothing. I don’t have anything to say..."

"It’s just... you’ve been looking at me ever since we stepped out of Lord Davenmore’s tent," he said, referring to Lyric’s tent.

"Was I too obvious?" Caelius asked, giving a faint, awkward smile as he shrugged his shoulders.

"Yes..." Soren replied plainly, staring at Caelius. Caelius, feeling slightly uncomfortable, simply shrugged it off.

"Well then... let’s both take a rest. I’m sure you’re tired, too. Have a good day... I’ll get going now..."

Awkward as ever, Caelius continued on his way. When he noticed that Soren had also entered his tent, he paused, watching the flap dance in the breeze as a thought crept into his mind.

’Soren... hmm, he’s surely a peculiar one. With his ability, he could easily secure a position in the palace if only His Grace Davenmore would back him but why stay here? Seeing how quickly he healed Lord Davenmore’s shoulder... he’s truly capable. What a shame...’