Memoir of the Messenger (trash of count family fanfic)

Chapter 16

The lights in the banquet hall became erratic. The image in front of them was flickering now and then as if it would disappear the next moment.

Cale's complexion changed drastically, his originally pale skin became dismally white and his lips turned blue.

His body trembled vigorously, he felt his knees weakened. The wound throbbed with pain. It was too great for him, he couldn't hold on any longer and started to fall over.

But instead of landing on the ground, he was stopped midway and felt himself being held upright in the other's arms.

With his body bent over, his forehead which was suffused with a fine layer of sweat was pressed against Eruhaben's broad and even shoulders.

The scene was almost too harmonious if you ignore the continuous stream of blood from his chest that stained half of his clothes and the other being the reason for it.

The crowd's eyes were firmly fixed on them.

Cale tilted his head to look at him and found that the latter was looking in his direction as well, his eyebrows were bent slightly.

But it seem his attention was elsewhere, as his eyes remained unfocused and quite grim.

He must have been communicating with someone inside, Cale thought to himself.

He then noticed the other's face darkened and saw a flash of anxiousness, so fleeting that even he couldn't be sure.

He didn't have time to ponder over it, because, in the next moment, Eruhaben suddenly picked him up and carried him as he run towards the castle's entrance.

They all held their breaths, as he drew nearer the huge bolted doors.

But the next second, just right before reaching it, he teleported with Cale in his arms in front of them.

Eruhaben stumbled and both fell on the ground with a loud thud.

"Eruhaben-nim!"

"Cale!"

Eruhaben quickly propped himself up despite the terrible headache and the pain that shoots up and down through his body as Rosalyn rushes to his side.

His face slowly lost its color, he grunted in silence as fatigue overcame him, fast and exhausting.

His body was already at its peak but still, he has to use twice the amount of his power because of the restriction spell that was binding the castle.

Cale lay with his back facing the ground, he shut his eyes as he coughs out a mouthful of blood, with every breath taken, more blood seems to come out from his mouth.

His breathing was disordered as the blood from his wound kept flowing onto the floor-marbled tiles, staining the soles of their shoes.

Violan strode towards him, and Basen and Lily quickly followed suit. She then hurriedly knelt on the ground, reached out her hand, and gently cupped the other's hand.

Her brows knitted slightly, and tears prickled as she found his palm was as cold as snow, somehow akin to a corpse.

Her body trembled at her thoughts and was at loss for what to do.

Whilst Cale felt her touch and carefully opened his eyes, though it took a considerable amount of effort.

His eyes swept through the familiar faces in front of him.