The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 95: “Leave here and never come back.

When Lyric found out that Soren was leaving, he expected to feel relieved.

That should’ve been the end of it.

Soren leaving on his own should have felt like a problem solving itself.

But it didn’t.

Instead, there was this strange sense of disappointment sitting in his chest, heavy and annoying but Lyric didn’t understand it, and that only made it worse. He had wanted Soren gone so why did it feel wrong now that it was actually happening?

Why did the thought of Soren walking away leave him unsettled instead of satisfied?

Unfortunately, Lyric had no answer.

He only knew that Soren leaving didn’t give him the relief he expected and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

Alaric, on the other hand, didn’t bother hiding his hostility.

Anyone looking at him could see it in the way he gritted his teeth, the sharpness of his words and in how he refused to even entertain the topic without irritation. But buried under all that was something he refused to acknowledge.

Deep in his chest, there was a stubborn, unwanted desire for Soren to stay but he didn’t know how to say it, didn’t even know what words he could use and even if he did, his pride would never allow it. So, he chose anger instead since it was easier to wear hostility than to admit he wanted something he couldn’t ask for.

Though Cael was different as he didn’t react at all.

Soren leaving didn’t register as a loss, or even as something worth thinking about.

To him, people came and went and it was how things had always been.

If Soren was gone, someone else would take his place, maybe even someone more entertaining. Yes, they had slept together, and yes, something personal had passed between them, something that should have meant more but to Cael, it didn’t.

Whatever they shared was already finished the moment it happened, and Cael who didnt dwell on that was the proof.

"Hah... so you’re finally leaving?" Sylas scoffed. "What took you so long?"

Soren’s hands froze for a second before he forced them to move again. His fingers even trembled as he picked up the coins while clutching them like they were the only thing keeping him grounded. His chest felt tight, like he couldn’t breathe properly, and no matter how hard he tried to swallow it down, the tears kept coming.

They dropped onto the ground, one after another, embarrassing and uncontrollable.

Seeing how they looked at him, he hated it.

Hated that they could see him like this.

Hated that he couldn’t stand up, speak and couldn’t even really look at them in the eye.

To Soren, they felt unreachable like a wall he could never get past no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t matter what he did or how much effort he put in. They were just always out of reach. Even when they seemed close, it was only an illusion and something that disappeared the moment he reached for it.

He had stupidly hoped that they might see him, the real him.

But now he understood.

Their eyes were never on Soren himself.

They were only ever looking at where he came from, not who he was.

Above him, they just watched.

Cael’s face was unreadable while Lyric looked down at him without saying a word. Alaric stood rigid with his hard expression. Sylas, on the other hand didn’t bother hiding his satisfaction.

Soren stayed crouched there with his shaking shoulders while gathering the gold like it was proof of everything he had lost. Being looked down on hurt more than the mockery. Being silent hurt more than the laughter.

And leaving like this hurt most of all.

Cael, Lyric, Sylas, and Alaric stood over him, watching and no one helped.

No one said a word.

Soren just stayed crouched there by the scattered gold while painfully aware that all of them were looking down on him.

They really looked elegant.

For Soren, whether he wanted to admit it or not, the four of them were dazzling.

They carried themselves with an ease he could never imitate. They’re elegant, composed and almost unreal in how beautiful they were. And at their core, they were true nobles, born into a world that would always belong to them.

Standing beside them, Soren had always known he didn’t truly fit, no matter how close he stood.

He realized then that he had never truly hated them not even for a moment.

What hurt more was himself.

He hated how hopeful he had been, how easily he believed things could be fixed if he just endured a little more. If he stayed quiet and if he kept his head down.

If he didn’t cause trouble or get in the way.

He had convinced himself that patience and obedience would eventually be enough.

He tried.

He really did.

He tried to please everyone without asking for recognition, tried to blend in, tried to smile and speak when expected and disappear when he wasn’t. He stayed late, took on work meant for others, gave up pieces of himself so no one else would have to.

He sacrificed quietly, believing that if he gave enough, if he endured enough, things would finally settle.

But being there now, Soren understood that no amount of effort could make him belong to a place that had never been meant for him in the first place.

To them, Soren was always dispensable.

Someone who can be replaced by anyone.

Having made up his mind, Soren slowly stood up with the gold coins clutched tightly in his trembling hands. He didn’t look at any of them. Or he couldn’t. Instead, he bowed deeply with his head lowered as if that alone could shield him from their eyes.

"Thank you... for everything," Soren said quietly. His voice wavered despite his effort to keep it steady. "I was really grateful for everyth..."

"Yeah, yeah. Spare us," Sylas cut it with a mocking cold voice. "Now that you’re finally leaving, make sure you never show your disgusting face in front of any of us again. Because if you do, you won’t like what I’ll do."

Hearing such threat, Soren stiffened.

The words hit harder than he expected, and his fingers curled tighter around the coins as his shoulders tensed. He stayed bowed, unable to see their reactions and unable to tell if anyone else had spoken or even moved.

His chest burned as he swallowed hard while forcing the tears back with everything he had left.

He didn’t respond.

He only bowed a little deeper while silently accepting the threat, knowing that even now, dignity was something he had to protect on his own.

"Leave here and never come back. May our paths never cross again, commoner." Sylas spat the words, venomous his tone, as if every syllable was meant to erase Soren from existence.

Without even a backward glance, he turned to Alaric, acting as if Soren had never existed, as if the past moments of mockery and humiliation had been nothing.

"Anyway, His Holiness was on his way here, and it’s been reported that he’s been traveling for three days now, brother..." Sylas continued while moving closer to Alaric, completely ignoring Soren. Cael stayed silent beside them with his arms crossed, indifferent and never even sparing him a glance.

The world really did seem to move without him.

Lyric, however, couldn’t completely mask his curiosity.

He stole a quick, almost imperceptible glance at Soren, who was now stepping slowly out of the tent, every and careful silent movement, as if trying to make himself smaller and less noticeable.

Soren’s heart, as he was leaving pounded in his chest with a mix of shame and relief. He was leaving, and yet the sting of their rejection lingered, gnawing at him like acid.

When Soren’s silhouette finally disappeared from view, the tent fell silent for a moment before Cael’s voice broke through the tension, cool and detached.

"So, what have you guys ended up with the investigation for the beasts’ sudden disappearance?"

Their conversation shifted immediately to business, to plans and missions, as if they had never mocked him, never watched him crouch over coins with tears streaming down his face.

Time just passed this way, indifferent and merciless, while Soren returned to his small corner, quietly packing up his few remaining belongings. Every item he touched felt like a tiny tether to a life he was leaving behind, a life he had hoped could have been different.

"Are you sure you won’t take me with you?" Alia’s voice broke through the silence hesitantly, as she helped him fold and pack.

Soren then looked up at her with a mixture of gratitude and guilt twisting inside him. He wanted to say yes, wanted to escape with her, but the words caught in his throat. He didn’t belong anywhere here, not with them, and maybe, not even with her.

To him, he never belongs anywhere nor did he have someone belong to him.

"Please... understand. You’re free now, Alia. I’m not your master so you don’t have to follow me. Live your life the way you want."

He then took a deep breath while trying to steady his voice. "I’ll be fine. I have Elias with me... so really, just live on your own. Do what feels right for you. That’s all I want."