Chapter 342: Emerald Spring

Naturally, when the door opened, every gaze swung toward the newcomers. Azriel’s did too. He watched them enter and banked the surprise that flashed through his mind.

Clothed in finery only noble ladies could afford, two beautiful women stepped in—women Azriel knew. The one with long silver hair: Celestina. The one with long blonde hair: Liliane.

’I forgot Lumine had a harem that included them in the book...’

Not Veronica or Ranni—Liliane and Celestina. Hell, the two of them—along with Yelena—were main characters.

They were even more beautiful than when he’d last seen them. Azriel wasn’t blind; objectively, they were stunning. Now, their beauty seemed sharpened.

’Both are advanced.’

It made sense. Undergoing [Soul Rebirth] had refined them, just as Lumine himself had become objectively handsome. The higher one climbed, the more inhumanly perfect the face became.

A few maids and butlers followed them inside.

Azriel gathered himself quickly. The two women, however, froze the instant their eyes met his. He offered a small, kind smile.

"I’m glad to see you both."

They composed themselves almost at once and nodded in unison.

"You’re here..." Celestina said, trying to keep the surprise from her voice.

"...What—what happened to your face?" Liliane asked, pale, narrowing her eyes as she studied him.

Azriel kept the smile.

"I’ve been in this scenario the entire time. As for what happened—where I was—and the story of my makeup, I’ll explain later. First, there’s something more urgent."

He looked to Yelena, and their gazes followed.

Truthfully, there shouldn’t have been such a rush—unless Azriel cared that much for Yelena. But he had two reasons for haste.

First: they were at the endgame of this scenario. He could feel it; he knew it. Maxime Rossweth’s death had been the turn, and letting Corven escape alive had only shortened the time they had left in this world. Waking Yelena—whose [Unique Skill] could matter in a place like this—could change everything. If she could rise quickly, if her strength and her [Instinct] sharpened fast, it would help him. It would help all of them.

The other reason was simpler, uglier.

...Azriel was sick.

He felt it: the fever. He was keeping it hidden by cooling his body with his ice affinity, but the trick bled his mana. He didn’t want anyone to see it—least of all here, in the Count’s estate. Despite having two skills that should have healed him, they were already working overtime against the side effects of the poison and had put the fever on low priority. His limbs felt heavy. His thoughts dragged, thick with fog. Weakness pressed at the hinges of his will.

He wanted this done—now—so their attention would stay on Yelena, not drift to him while he recovered.

Azriel simply didn’t want to look weak.

Ranni had already explained the plan. They grasped it quickly, raised no objections, and asked few questions—their attention kept drifting back to Azriel.

Lumine stepped toward him. Azriel glanced at Lumine, then at Lia, then at the Count and Countess.

"Maybe prepare rooms for those who don’t want to be here," he said.

"It’s getting crowded."

The Count studied him for a beat, then nodded and signalled a butler. Before long, Lia was escorted out to a guest room, Veronica departed without further interest, and Marco and Ella followed. Nol and Ranni remained.

"Are you... alright?" Lumine asked.

Azriel looked back at him—the concern in Lumine’s face plain as daylight—then sighed inwardly and offered a small smile.

"I’m fine. You don’t need to worry."

"But..." Lumine still didn’t look convinced.

"These scars... they seem new—and you look too pale. We don’t need to do this now. You don’t have to be here. You could rest. Maybe it’s fine if you even take one of the health potions?"

Azriel shook his head.

"We don’t know how much it’ll take to wake her. No point wasting any on me. My wounds will heal. I’ll rest when she wakes."

For some reason, those words made Lumine stare wide-eyed. Then, suddenly, he bowed—startling Azriel—and spoke in a small, fragile voice.

"...Thank you. Really... thank you, Azriel."

Before Azriel could answer, two dull thuds hit the floor behind him. He turned; everyone else did too.

Azriel’s eyes widened. The Count and Countess were on their knees, foreheads to the carpet. Servants cried out in alarm, but the two ignored them.

"To think the Sun and Moon shine so brightly on my daughter," the Count said, voice shaking, head still bowed.

"For the gods to send the Saintess of the Moon and the Saintess of the Sun—and now even such a noble, kind young man... Truly we are blessed after so much misfortune. Please—if you need anything, no matter what, even my life—tell me."

Azriel watched them in silence, uncertain how to answer. At length, he found the only words that would come.

"You love your daughter that much?"

"Naturally," the Count said.

"What parent wouldn’t love their child unconditionally?"

Azriel pressed his lips together, then asked more quietly,

"Then you shouldn’t have left her alone—away from both of you. Not with the Revolutionary Army, not with the target they put on your backs. I heard how she fell into a coma. You’re more to blame than anyone for her condition—without even the proper men guarding her when she was fighting for her life."

Both parents flinched.

"We... we regret it every day," the Countess whispered.

"Not a night passes. If we could go back, I would never have permitted her to go alone. I would have kept my daughter with us."

Azriel regarded them for a moment and said nothing.

"Should we start?" Liliane called from the far side, tense and pale. The feeling bled through the room like a fever.

Azriel hesitated, looked from face to face, then down at the sleeping Yelena—then back to the Count.

"Do you have a doctor?"

The Count nodded at once.

"Get him."

The Count and Countess glanced up, confused. Azriel sighed.

"Would you rather I be the one poking holes in your daughter—or a doctor?"

At that, the Count sprang to his feet and signalled one of the remaining servants. As they went to fetch the Horvix family physician, Celestina and Liliane crossed to Azriel.

"Celestina, Liliane—can’t you heal Azriel’s scars quickly, please?" Lumine asked, eyes flicking between them and Azriel.

Azriel watched the three of them.

’They’ve grown close—all three of them.’

Both women nodded.

"We can," Celestina said, not meeting his eyes for long before looking away. Liliane, by contrast, fixed on Azriel with an intensity that could have cut glass.

Azriel shook his head. He could feel Ranni’s eyes narrowing at him too.

’They’re overreacting. Seriously...’

"We don’t know how much mana you’ll need—either of you, even together. Best to conserve what you can."

"But—" Liliane began, and then the door opened again as the doctor entered.

’Finally...’

They could finally begin.

*****

Perhaps Lumine was right—there was no need for Azriel to stay any longer.

...and yet he didn’t leave. Simply out of selfish curiosity—or because he had skinned himself so Yelena could wake—he had to be here. To see it through.

When Azriel handed over the health potions, even giving his own needle to inject them, they began at once. Far back against the wall, Lumine leaned there with Azriel at his side. Ranni watched over Celestina, Liliane, and the doctor, anxiety tight in her posture. Nol and Vergil stood behind her, waiting in a tense, curious hush. The Count and Countess sat on the couch, fingers intertwined, holding on as if they might drown.

"Do you think it will work...?" Lumine asked tentatively, watching as they turned Yelena onto her stomach. They drew her pyjamas up to expose the small of her back—three neat punctures, as if stabbed. They were. Lower right, exactly where the Plague had injected the poison.

"There’s no reason it shouldn’t," Azriel said, narrowing his eyes as the doctor slid the needle in at the wound site.

"It’s my fault she’s in a coma," Lumine murmured.

Azriel didn’t look at him. Didn’t react.

"I got greedy and played with her life—thinking I was strong enough. That I could protect her even after she warned me. I was... I am weak."

Celestina and Liliane pressed their hands to Yelena’s back and poured their light into her. Apparently Yelena also has a small passive skill—maybe it would help, a little. After a moment, Azriel spoke, his voice flat but not unkind, while Lumine stared at the floor and bit his lip.

"...You gambled and lost. It happens—especially in this line of work. You can’t win them all, no matter how much you want to."

Nothing changed. Azriel’s gaze sharpened.

...Yelena didn’t react.

Sweat gathered and slid from the doctor’s brow, from Celestina’s and Liliane’s temples. The rest of them watched and said nothing, breath held like a single shared thread.

Then Azriel felt Lumine’s eyes on him.

"Did you... ever lose?"

Azriel’s mouth hitched.

"Yes. I’ve lost many, many fights."

"So even someone from a great clan loses. Even if you’re prepared to kill, it isn’t enough, huh..."

Azriel finally turned.

"Are you thinking that if you’d fought to kill, you might have won? The Plague is an Expert. You were only Intermediate. Your chances weren’t much to begin with. I doubt it would have changed anything."

Lumine looked at him, sighed, and glanced away—ashamed of what came next.

"...Not just killing. Maybe if... if I’d let that maid die... this wouldn’t have happened to her."

The second injection... did nothing. Azriel clenched his teeth.

’Dammit.’

He looked back at Lumine and kept the sigh inside.

"I can’t tell you what the right thing was—or is. Actions have consequences; what you choose is what you get. Unless you can go back in time, you can only live with it. Letting a maid die—letting an innocent die—or killing, if it’s to protect someone you care about... I won’t say it’s right, but there will always be someone who says it’s wrong. It’s up to you to know your own morals, your beliefs, where you draw the line. You have to decide for yourself why you hold a sword."

Lumine pressed his lips together.

"What do you think I should’ve done?"

Azriel shook his head.

"I can’t tell you that."

"Then... what would you have done?"

"If I were you, I would have done everything I had to do to save the one I love."

"...I see."

He dropped his gaze to the floor—then snapped it up, frowning.

"I... I don’t love her."

Azriel smiled as they injected the health potion for the fourth time.

"Sure you do. There’s no point hiding it."

"Wha— I’m not joking. I don’t love her romantic—"

"Wait!"

Liliane’s voice cut through.

"Her finger—it just twitched."

Azriel would be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip.

Lumine moved to the bedside at once, the others with him—everyone except Azriel.

"Her hand is moving...!" Ranni cried.

Moments later, Yelena’s eyelids fluttered

"Mhm..." A small sound slipped from lips that hadn’t made a sound in months.

The Count, Countess, and Lumine crowded close as Celestina, Liliane, and the doctor stepped back. No one else spoke. No one else breathed.

And then, at last—emerald eyes, clear as spring, revealed themselves for the first time in months.

"Where... where am I? Lumine, is that you...?" Yelena asked, groggy and slow, clarity gathering in her gaze.

"Why is everyone he—"

"Oh, my daughter!"

Before she could finish, the Countess folded her into a fierce embrace.

"H-huh?" Yelena froze as the woman’s arms tightened around her.

"My sweet baby, you’re finally awake!" the Count shouted, wrapping her too.

Yelena blinked, confused, colour rising fast.

"U-um... what is happening...? Please... this is a bit embarrassing..." Her voice was hoarse and dry; the blush only deepened as they held her and the room watched.

"W... wait—Lumine, why are you crying!?"

"You... you have no idea h-how worried I was..." Tears streamed down Lumine’s face. He swiped at them with his sleeve, helpless.

Watching them—watching the sleeping beauty rise at last—Azriel felt, for the first time in hours, that he could breathe. He slipped out quietly, unnoticed by anyone. Closing the door behind him, he leaned against the wall and wiped the sweat from his face.

’The fever’s getting worse... I should find a room and sleep.’

He let out a long, exhausted breath—and froze as a cold, firm voice addressed him.

"It seems she’s finally awake, isn’t she, Azriel?"

Azriel swallowed. His heart began to hammer. He had expected him...

Even so, his next breath shook as he looked at the figure watching him with emotionless black eyes.

"...Lioren."