[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke
Chapter 316: The Sun Burning The Night.

Chapter 316: The Sun Burning The Night.

The air had a suffocating weight. The more he breathed in it the more it corroded his lungs.

This land—his land—felt suddenly strange, like a memory distorted by time. Everything felt slightly warped, like glass bending under pressure.

His heart, too, seemed to beat somewhere far from his chest.

Darius felt inhumane.

Then he saw it with his own eyes.

"The sun burns the night, scorching the broken vows of divinity. That’s where you’ll find him. But you must hurry."

Serena had said those words before retreating into being mute. No matter how they asked her, she didn’t say another word.

Serena must have her hand tied too. They all understood it, but that didn’t mean he could bear it.

Without her help, it took them long hours to realize that ’the broken vows of divinity’ could only point to the desecrated church where the forbidden purple light was being secretly cultivated.

But... hadn’t he already burned that place down?

Darius gritted his teeth and urged his horse faster, pushing it through the mist-soaked dark. He hadn’t even stopped to grab his outer robe in his haste.

His dark tunic flapped wildly in the wind, nonetheless, it offered no protection.

The cold gnawed through his clothes, biting into skin and bone, but it did nothing to quench the flaming agony blazing in his chest.

Even after all his promises to protect him, even after swearing he’d never let another soul get close, he had let Xion be hurt again.

He had failed.

The church... he had destroyed the home of goddess Myrthia, the one he had barely started to believe in now.

Is this your punishment, then? he thought bitterly to himself. For everything I’ve done? For the blood I’ve spilled? Then take it out on me. Why him? Why Xion?

A vague suspicion stirred in the back of his mind, like a forgotten dream clawing to be remembered. However, before he could capture it, it slipped away.

Because it was right in front of his eyes. The sun burning the night.

An explosion shattered the horizon, brilliant and brutal, as if the sky itself had fractured. The earth shook beneath his horse’s hooves in a silent protest.

Animals howled before falling silent in fear. His terrified horse reared and neighed, refusing to move another inch. The poor creature was trembling. And so, truthfully, was its master.

Darius watched numbly as the heavens lit up in orange flame. Ash rained down like cursed snow, catching in his hair and lashes. Embers floated through the air like ghostly stars.

Xion is there. Xion... I need to save him.

Without another delay, he leapt from the saddle. Neither did he care about the mud that soaked his boots nor the dirt staining his trousers.

The wind whipped at his face, slicing his cheeks and freezing the silver tips of his lashes as he broke into a run.

The guards he’d left behind were finally catching up. They shouted at him to stop, to wait. For it was dangerous to rush in like this. They couldn’t be sure what heinous creature it was that had caused the earth to shake like this.

Regardless of the pleading shouts, he didn’t stop. He simply couldn’t.

He forced his legs to move desperately, relentlessly, like a mad dog scurrying for its owner. Again.

Why again? Perhaps Darius himself couldn’t comprehend why the ache in his chest felt so familiar. He didn’t understand where the dread was coming from, but he let it in any way. He permitted the anguish to drill into his heart and burn into his veins.

He needed to etch this into his memory, to jot it down on his skin. Never let Xion hurt.

Xion... Xion... Xion... Where are you?!

He chanted the name like a sacred prayer. Over and over as if that would ward against the fear crawling through his spine.

And then, at last, he saw him. The thin figure was heaving for breath. The young man couldn’t stop his body from swaying before he bent over and vomited blood.

Darius didn’t remember crossing the field to reach the broken tree. Before his mind could register, his body moved on instinct to catch the swaying figure in his arms.

His knees hit the soil with a heavy thud as he cradled Xion into his chest. Xion’s body was limp. His heartbeat was faint but it was still there.

Alive, Xion was alive!

"Hey, Xion?" His ragged voice cracked. "Don’t sleep, okay? Stay with me. Just... stay."

Something cracked inside his mind. A strange rush of sentiments thrummed in his heart.

The blood staining his fingers was warm.

He knew that no matter how much he washed, scorched, rubbed, or even peeled it off, Xion’s blood spilled on his hands would never go away.

He pressed Xion tighter against his chest not caring about his tunic.

This warm liquid quickly seeped into his flesh and left its silent mark all over his soul.

Darius decided then and there, that whoever had orchestrated this whole situation, he would gladly stain his hands with their blood.

He didn’t hear the vague whispers in the air, nor did he care when everyone knelt on the ground in respect.

But how could the people who had barely survived disrespect someone of this caliber?

This was the lord of the north, the benevolent ruler who had gone against Talia to help the poor people like them.

Perhaps that notion had given them some courage, and despite feeling the deadly coldness emitting from Darius, they still went ahead.

"The saint had consumed too much mana, Your Grace." Someone said, respecting Xion as a saint.

It took a long moment for Darius to decipher the meaning of the words.

"Mana..." The northern lord repeated slowly. A flicker of light flashed in his dull eyes.

"Ah, yes, mana. Xion needs mana," Mumbling to himself, he rested Xion’s head on his shoulder. "Then he will wake up. Xion will wake up."

He raised his hand and let the green light of his mana bloom through his palm. Carefully, he threaded it into Xion’s body through thin veins and trembling pulse points.

But Xion felt... empty. As if this wasn’t a living being but a hollow shell.

It wasn’t just his mana that was gone, his very life force was nearly extinguished.

How could anyone be this drained?

Darius couldn’t fathom it. As someone who brimmed with mana, the very idea of running out of it entirely felt incomprehensible to him.

I’m powerless, Darius thought bitterly. I’ve only ever learned how to kill, Xion... Not how to heal.

Talia Valaria.

The name pulsed behind his temples. His hatred for her coiled like a serpent, tighter and tighter. Until...

"We need to take him back." The knight commander suppressed his urge to check on Xion himself before reminding his lord. There was obvious urgency in his voice. "He looks... fragile."

Fragile?

Darius looked down again. Without that gentle smile, Xion’s small face was as pale as moonlight, almost translucent.

The Archduke desperately tried to catch onto colors, any shade, anything. However, all his eyes caught was brutal crimson.

Xion’s lips, his wounded forehead, his silver-white ceremonial shirt, his delicate fingers...

Darius only saw red.

His heavy panting sounded harsh in the otherwise silent night. Yes, Xion looked fragile.

"Where is Allen?" Darius reached out to wipe the blood from Xion’s lips. It smeared beneath his thumb, bright and vivid.

"At the rear," Ray responded, exchanging a glance with the others. "We fell behind... Your Grace rode ahead too quickly."

They hadn’t even had time to form proper formation when Darius had rushed out like a madman.

Running so wildly in the middle of the night, and that too on the freezing wet ground, was nothing short of suicide.

Yet they could only play catch-up with their reckless liege.

But Allen was the Alchemist after all. He wasn’t that adaptable to such a harsh style of horse riding.

Just as Ray hesitated to speak if he should carry Xion on Darius’ behalf, the Archduke stood up.

Despite his earlier frenzy, he bore the unconscious man as though he weighed nothing. His movements were steady now, full of a resolve that chilled the air even more than the night wind.

Helplessly, Ray watched the lonely back and couldn’t help the sigh that slipped past his nearly frozen lips.

There was a frantic call in his heart urging him to go and see Xion. To check how the young man was doing. For a brief second, he even wanted to snatch Xion away from Darius.

Xion had only been subjected to the threats since he had caught His Grace’s eyes. Xion had already suffered enough so why must he have to bear this? He didn’t think for a second that the enemy might be after Xion.

Xion was far too sweet, and gentle. Who would be stupid enough to hold grudge against him? Even if they wanted to use his healing abilities, they would never hurt the healer. That much was common sense.

So, Xion must be caught in this trap because he married His Grace.

But he couldn’t act on his urges at all.

"Is he alright?"

"I pray to the goddess to save the saint."

"Please protect him."

Various such praying voices forced him to turn around. He should deal with these people first.