Nurturing the Hero to Avoid Death

Ch 9.5.2

Somehow, I was able to hold out all day.

Since I had that dream this morning, my head’s been pounding and I feel like death. I’m so nauseous I can’t even stomach lunch. Usually, people give me food but today I refused them all. Otherwise, I might vomit it all out.

I have a shift at the bar today. Since the night wage is higher, I earn a lot more relatively for working a short amount of time. I can’t take a break.

The events of the day blur as I recall them, from the time that class ended to the point when I clocked out.

On my way to the carriages, I come across some drunk guys who are basking in the night life. 5 people in total. They tell me to hand over my money, like typical thugs. I refuse, and they move to beat me up.

This day sucks.

My vision shakes, unable to keep still. I probably have a fever. Fortunately, I can still move. I’m aware that my body is more robust than an average person’s.

I down each of them with a punch in the face. During the scuffle, I got hit with a bottle, so my left arm is a bit swollen, but that’s all.

It would be troublesome if someone notices the commotion, so I hurriedly leave

Ahh, this isn’t good. My vision is warping.

I slam into something. Judging by the angry yelling, I must have bumped into someone.

I fall to the ground, remaining there, unable to summon enough strength to stand up.

My condition is especially bad today.

When does the last carriage leave? If I don’t make it in time, then it can’t be helped. Granny might be angry, but in such an event I’ll have to spend the night somewhere in town.

Sighing, I close my eyes.

“Alfred?”

A familiar voice. I lift my heavy head slightly, turning to the direction of the sound.

A small distance away and standing in front of a prestigious restaurant, one that looked like it would turn away people who didn’t abide by their dress code, is Lian. Silver-haired, round-eyed Lian.

He’s wearing a light blue shirt without a wrinkle in sight, a brilliant white tie, and a dark blue velvet jacket paired with slacks. Silver strands are picked up by the breeze, flowing against milky white skin.

Although his eyes are a shade of ice blue, a cold color, there is a touch of warmth somewhere within.

Lian stands up straight, posture impeccable. He’s so beautiful that no one can possibly come up with a complaint about his appearance. He’s dignified and eye-catching. It’s certainly as the guys in class say: he looks like a prince from the country where the Queen of Spirits resides, far off in the west.

To Lian’s side is his family, his mother in a low-cut scarlet gown and his father and brother wearing black suits. They’re all dressed to the nines.

Next to Lian’s father are several sharply-dressed men. It’s clear from a glance they obviously have high social standing. Are they having a formal gathering?

Taking another glance at me, Lian turns and says something to his father. From the looks of their crinkled brows and frowns, they’re having a dispute of some sort. In the end, he bows his head to his father’s peers and his family.

And he runs towards me.

Hey, hey.

Why are you coming over here?