Chapter 341 - "What are you doing here?"

The infirmary stirred.

Luca’s cough broke the quiet again—rough, involuntary, tearing its way out of his chest. The sound drew movement immediately. Low murmurs rippled through the room as dwarven healers straightened, rune-lamps flaring a little brighter in response.

He forced his eyes open wider this time.

Stone walls. Heat-veins glowing softly. The clean, metallic scent of medicine.

And—standing beside his bed—

A broad, armored figure.

Durgan Blackvein.

Luca froze.

The dwarf wasn’t looming, but he filled the space anyway—arms folded, posture relaxed in a way that suggested absolute confidence. His eyes were fixed on Luca, not with hostility, not with concern, but with the same look one might give a weapon pulled from a forge to check whether it had cracked.

"...Awake," one of the healers muttered with relief.

A few dwarves exchanged looks, tension easing from their shoulders. Someone exhaled audibly. Another quietly adjusted a rune dial.

Durgan spoke.

"Two hundred and six bones broken," he said flatly.

"Severe blood loss."

"All major organs mashed to meat."

He tilted his head slightly.

"Ten days taken to recover."

Luca’s vision swam.

"...Huh?"

The words didn’t register properly. His head felt heavy, thoughts slipping like water through his fingers.

Wait.

Is he... talking about me?

He shook his head hard, immediately regretting it as a dull ache flared behind his eyes.

"No—wait," he muttered hoarsely, trying to orient himself. His gaze snapped back to Durgan, confusion mixing with wariness. "What are you doing here?"

Before Durgan could answer—

Something warm and solid collided with his chest.

Luca sucked in a sharp breath as a body fell into him, arms wrapping tight around his torso. The impact wasn’t violent—but it was desperate.

"Aurelia—?"

Her face was buried against him, fingers clutching his clothes as if letting go would make him disappear again.

"You’re finally awake..." her voice shook, muffled against his chest. Then it hardened, just a little. "...You bastard. Always getting into situations like that."

Luca blinked.

The tension in his chest eased—not all at once, but enough.

He hesitated, then lifted one hand and rested it against her back, patting gently despite the lingering soreness.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly. "For worrying you."

She answered with a small, stubborn sound.

"Hm."

And didn’t move.

Didn’t loosen her grip.

Didn’t pretend she wasn’t still clinging to him.

Luca didn’t make any effort of separating himself from her.

Only then did his attention return to the armored dwarf still standing at his bedside again. His eyes narrowed—not hostile, but guarded. Instinctive.

He looked at Durgan again.

Slowly.

Carefully.

"What," he said, enunciating each word, "are. You. Doing. Here?"

A pause.

Then—

"Ahem."

The voice came from the doorway, far too casual for the atmosphere.

"Wow," it drawled. "Looks like we came at the wrong time. Just book a room, you two?"

Luca’s head snapped toward the entrance.

Kyle stood there, hands in his pockets, expression infuriatingly smug. Behind him were Selena, Sylthara, and Lilliane—each watching with very different reactions.

Luca glared.

Not annoyed.

Not offended.

A pure, murderous glare—like he’d just identified his lifelong enemy.

Kyle grinned wider.

Before he could say anything else—

Smack.

Selena’s hand connected cleanly with the back of Kyle’s head.

"Can you stop?" she said coolly. "He just woke up."

Kyle rubbed the back of his head exaggeratedly. "Why do I care?"

Sylthara’s golden eyes slid toward him—slow, sharp, unimpressed.

"Really?" she said flatly. "Then who was the one who couldn’t eat, couldn’t drink, and couldn’t sleep—"

She took a step closer.

"—and practiced nonstop until his hands bled," she continued, voice even, "so that his brother-in-law wouldn’t have to face danger alone?"

Kyle stiffened.

"...Hey."

He shot her a look, half-annoyed, half-panicked.

"Don’t just say things like that."

Luca’s gaze shifted.

Down.

To Kyle’s hands.

Bandages.

Wrapped carefully—but thoroughly.

Something in Luca’s chest warmed.

The edge in his eyes softened as he looked back up at his friends—at the awkward silence, the bickering, the concern they were all pretending wasn’t there.

And for the first time since the Crucible—

He smiled.

The moment stretched.

Aurelia was still holding onto him, her forehead resting lightly against his chest now, breathing finally steady. Luca stayed still, letting the warmth anchor him, until movement around the bed drew his attention again.

Kyle was the first to speak.

"...So?" he asked, trying—and failing—to sound casual. He leaned against the foot of the bed, arms crossed, but his weight was shifted forward, like he was ready to move the second Luca swayed. "How do you feel? Don’t say ’fine.’ If you say ’fine,’ I’m punching you."

Luca let out a weak breath that might have been a laugh if his ribs didn’t protest.

"I..." he paused, searching honestly. "...feel heavy."

Kyle snorted. "Yeah, no kidding. You were a walking pile of broken bones."

Sylthara stepped closer, her golden eyes sweeping over him with sharp, predatory precision. She didn’t touch him, didn’t crowd him—just observed. Her ears flicked once, restrained.

"Your mana flow is stable," she said slowly. "Slower than normal, but not chaotic. That’s... good."

Her gaze lingered on the faintly glowing runes still etched into Luca’s skin—remnants of healing and something deeper.

"You shouldn’t be alive," she added matter-of-factly.

Kyle nodded. "Yeah. That too."

Aurelia finally shifted, lifting her head just enough to look at him properly. Her eyes were red—not swollen, not dramatic—just tired, like she’d cried until there was nothing left to give.

"Does it hurt?" she asked quietly.

Luca hesitated.

"...Not like before," he admitted. "More like... echoes."

Her fingers tightened for a moment at the front of his clothes, then loosened again.

"That’s good," she murmured, as if afraid saying anything else might break him.

Lilliane stood a little apart from the others.

She hadn’t moved closer. Hadn’t spoken.

Her eyes were fixed on Luca, unblinking, posture straight but empty—as if she were watching something through glass. When Luca met her gaze, there was no spark of relief, no visible reaction.

But—

Her shoulders eased.

Just a fraction.

Enough that someone watching closely would notice.

Selena took a step forward.

She hadn’t interrupted earlier. Hadn’t crowded the moment. Her expression was calm, composed—but there was something carefully held behind it.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, voice level.

Luca nodded at her. "Better than expected, I think."

She studied him for a second longer—then said quietly,

"Mother waited five days for you to wake up."

The room stilled.

Luca blinked. "Five... days?"

Selena nodded once. "She remained here as long as she could. But her duties wouldn’t allow her to stay any longer." Her gaze lowered slightly. "Before she left, she asked me to pass something on to you."

She reached into her sleeve and withdrew a small, neatly wrapped item—simple cloth, no ornamentation.

She placed it gently on the bedside table.

Then, unexpectedly, she stepped back.

And bowed.

Not deeply.

Not formally.

But sincerely.

"Thank you," she said.

Luca stared at her, confused. "For... what?"

Selena straightened.

"This," she said calmly, meeting his eyes, "is from me."

She didn’t elaborate.

Didn’t explain the gesture.

She simply turned and stepped away, leaving the words—and whatever weight they carried—behind.

The infirmary was quiet again.

But this time, it felt warm.

Luca let the moment breathe.

The infirmary had changed while he wasn’t looking—no longer tense, no longer holding its breath. Kyle and Sylthara were arguing quietly about something trivial, Selena stood a little apart with her arms folded, and Lilliane listened without truly listening, gaze drifting somewhere between them all. Aurelia still hadn’t let go of him, her presence steady and warm, grounding in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

For a brief second, it felt... normal.

Too normal.

Eric isn’t here

, he thought suddenly.

And Big Bull too...

The realization barely finished forming when his awareness snapped sideways—sharp, instinctive.

The old dwarf.

Still there.

Still standing beside the bed like a carved pillar.

Luca’s brows knit together, confusion overtaking exhaustion as he looked at Durgan again. The hostility from before had dulled—burned away somewhere between blood, lava, and survival—but it left behind something far more unsettling.

"...Why are you here?" Luca asked again, slower this time.

Before Durgan could answer, Kyle tilted his head.

"Oh," he said, blinking. "Huh. Now that you mention it... yeah, he’s been there the whole time."

Everyone looked at him.

Kyle shrugged. "Like—literally. Ten days. Didn’t sleep. Didn’t sit. Didn’t move unless the healers told him to."

Luca’s eyes widened slightly.

"...Ten days?"

Durgan finally spoke.

"Did you forget our agreement?" he said, voice calm, heavy, utterly unapologetic. "You won the trial. I lost."

His gaze settled on Luca, direct and unwavering.

"You are my master now. I am your slave." He paused. "Guarding you is the bare minimum."

The room froze.

Kyle stared at him with the blank, dead look of someone whose brain had decided this was not worth processing.

Sylthara’s ears stiffened.

Selena’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

Aurelia lifted her head slowly, disbelief written plainly across her face.

"...What?" several of them said, almost in unison.

Durgan ignored all of them.

He turned fully toward Luca again, expression sharpening—not cruel, not mocking, but severe in the way of someone who believed deeply in what he was about to say.

"I will give you one suggestion, Master," he said.

His gaze flicked briefly—dismissively—toward Aurelia. Toward Kyle, Sylthara, Selena, Lilliane.

"Friends. Lovers. Attachments." His lip curled slightly. "All of that is worthless."

Kyle bristled instantly. "Hey—"

"They will drag you down," Durgan continued, voice firm, unshaken. "They are chains you do not yet see. You are worth far more than this—than them."

Silence.

Thick. Awkward. Dangerous.

Everyone blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Luca stared at Durgan.

Then slowly—very slowly—he felt his temples throb.

He glanced at Aurelia still clinging to him. At Kyle’s bandaged hands. At Selena’s composed posture that didn’t quite hide concern. At Sylthara’s watchful stillness. At Lilliane, quiet and broken, but here.

And then back at the ancient dwarf who had apparently decided to become his problem.

...What have I dragged myself into this time?