Male Lead Is Obsessed With My Health - Chapter 142

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 142

A sharp, keen pain blossomed suddenly from deep within her chest, spreading like wildfire through her entire body.
‘It hurts.’
So pain could indeed rob you of even the ability to scream.
The days before seemed a lie now—her entire body ached as though beaten, and a terrible heaviness weighed upon every limb.
Breathing had never been this difficult.
She tried to open her mouth to breathe properly, but her vision blurred instead.
‘Am I losing consciousness?’
Even in this moment, one thought cut through the fog.
‘The Combat Injury Recovery Artifact for Mages is utterly useless…….’
The artifact she’d gone to such lengths to acquire for a moment like this had become nothing but garbage.
Perhaps because this wasn’t combat trauma?
My money…….

* * *

Locke Castle, always so quiet, erupted into chaos.
That the master of Locke Castle had abandoned his duties to focus entirely on something else was shocking enough—but Arelin had collapsed!
The angel, the fairy who had appeared suddenly and stolen the hearts of every servant and retainer in the castle—their beloved Arelin!
Naturally, the castle declared an emergency.
They brought in the Healing Arts practitioners from the Southern Empire’s Magic Tower, even the High Priest of the Holy Temple and the royal physician of the Phythal court, and still the situation worsened not a whit.
No one could diagnose Arelin’s condition precisely, let alone effect a full recovery or even ease her symptoms.
“The Blessing Prayer isn’t working.”
“We’ve been trying Vitality Magic and everything else, but nothing takes. The Vitality Magic works best, but even that—the efficiency…….”
“First we need to identify what’s wrong with her. But whether she can endure until then…….”
The darkness radiating from Ruthvigi, who sat beside Arelin, only deepened their despair.
“Why isn’t she improving?”
“Well…….”
“Are you certain you treated her properly?”
“I, I did my very best! Really!”
The mage, not yet two years into her practice as a certified Healing Arts practitioner, trembled through her tears.
Ruthvigi clicked his tongue as the practitioner collapsed into mana exhaustion while casting Vitality Magic again. His next barb was aimed at the royal physician.
“Physician, why are you offering no treatment whatsoever?”
“We’ve yet to identify the illness, and we lack sufficient understanding of the young lady’s condition. Prescribing medication recklessly risks worsening her state.”
“So you simply stand idle and watch?”
“No, we are doing everything in our power.”
The royal physician, veteran of long dealings with Ruthvigi, spoke his piece despite the tremor in his voice.
His piercing gaze finally turned to the High Priest—but this time, the High Priest was quicker.
“Your Grace, are you aware of the young lady of Halbern’s long-standing chronic illness?”
“A chronic illness?”
“It is quite renowned in the realm of Lemuren. She has suffered from an unknown ailment since earliest childhood, and even under the direct care of Rihart, the High Priest most honored in our kingdom, the sickness would not abate. Some whispered it was a curse.”
At the word “curse,” Ruthvigi’s brow twitched.
“Thankfully, investigation revealed it to be no curse, yet the condition persists. Arelin’s illness is managed entirely under Halbern’s authority.”
“In other words…….”
“Yes, Your Grace. Petitioning Halbern will be your swiftest course.”
Ruthvigi’s expression crumpled in displeasure. Beyond mere offense, his thoughts veered in an entirely different direction.
Could this man be a Halbern spy?
A High Priest of Lemuren, no less?
“I understand your displeasure, but if matters continue thus, the young lady will not endure much longer. Lemuren has observed this case for many years, and I overstepped in speaking at all. Yet I beseech you—make a wise decision before it is too late…….”
The elderly priest, knowing his bounds, offered only counsel before returning to Arelin’s side to continue his useless Blessing Prayer.
Soft golden light poured from his hands, but Arelin’s small frame absorbed none of it—all of it drained away uselessly.
Yet the high fever continued, the coughing persisted, and sporadic convulsions and cries of pain broke the silence.
Fever-reducing draughts brought only temporary relief before the heat surged back. Nothing worked.
“I cannot determine which medicine might help. Her body is far too frail—stronger drugs would turn remedy into poison…….”
“Do whatever you can, then.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
With each passing moment, anxiety gnawed at Ruthvigi like a living thing, eating away his nerve.
Duties piled high elsewhere, but he couldn’t spare them a thought.
The pressure from the Phythal court, the threat of Halbern’s massed troops at the border, the strange demands from the Magic Tower—all of it paled beside his current dread. Ruthvigi’s expression had become grave and immovable.
Watching a child not even reaching his own waist suffer in pain was a torment of a different order altogether.
He would gladly bear her suffering himself if he could.
Was it because he’d only seen her these past days laughing brightly, talking ceaselessly, heedlessly running about and causing trouble?
This withered, bedridden form felt utterly alien to him.
‘This makes it seem like she could die at any moment.’
Ruthvigi had assumed Arelin was healthy. He’d heard she had an ailment, but never truly accepted her as an ill child.
But now…….
A distant, vertiginous feeling seized him, as though time had reversed itself.
As though he’d been returned to that moment when Sione had turned away because of his own folly.
Then, in his arrogance, Ruthvigi had believed he could undo everything and win back Sione’s heart.
But now Ruthvigi was simply afraid.
Afraid of losing Arelin as well.
“Mo… ther…….”
Parched lips cracked as they reached for someone.
“……Mother.”
Tears traced the corners of her eyes, and his heart shattered.
Anxiety and dread still coursed through him, but they had transformed—from fear of losing Arelin to fear of letting her slip away thoughtlessly, then and there.
‘The only trace Sione left behind.’
Ruthvigi clenched his teeth.
Sione said this wasn’t love, but Ruthvigi could not fathom what love could be if not this.
“Mehren…….”
“……?”
Ruthvigi’s body went rigid at the familiar name that escaped from Arelin. A name she’d spoken while still calling for her mother.
‘Come to think of it, she kept saying she missed her mother.’
His jealousy-clouded mind suddenly sharpened and turned quick.
The Grand Duke of Halbern had been entrenched in the Northern Fortress for six years without returning. Even if some bond had formed, it couldn’t run so deep.
Then who had raised Arelin during all the time the Grand Duke was away?
“Ha.”line>
His tangled emotions settled in an instant.

Ruthvigi conceded defeat.
“Send word to Halbern. Tell them Arelin is ill.”

* * *

When Valere and the Saren Knights infiltrated Locke Castle, they were struck by two startling facts.
First, there were far too few guards.
‘Has something happened at Locke Castle?’
Second, the castle’s atmosphere was deeply ominous. As though some disaster had truly befallen it.
Their plan was simple: abduct Arelin and depart.
They’d given no thought to failure. The Saren Knights boasted martial prowess second to none.
And yet.
“M, my lord?!”
Valere, who had been assessing the castle’s atmosphere, suddenly seemed to grasp something. His eyes widened and he bolted forward.
‘No, what is this madman doing! We came to infiltrate, not to draw attention!’
Jaren felt as though he might scream from the sheer absurdity of his lord’s behavior.
‘Follow or not?’
Before he could decide, Valere vanished from sight.
Valere, heedless of the knights falling behind, ran forward hoping his ‘instinct’ was wrong.
‘The dosage was supposed to last longer, as I recall.’
Perhaps because he’d only sent the medicine without ever seeing it administered—his knowledge didn’t match reality.
With urgent strides, Valere crossed the silent night of Locke Castle and found Arelin’s chamber in an instant.
He owed it entirely to the cooperation of Duke Idikels, whom he’d met upon entering.
‘Arel.’
His instinct hadn’t been wrong. Her hair was matted with sweat—she’d already suffered quite a bout.
Now her fever seemed broken; her shallow breathing sounded almost peaceful. Yet if left as she was, the sickness would return.
As Valere lifted Arelin’s form and moved toward the door, something happened.
Shing.
A blade caught the moonlight, casting cold light across his neck.
From the shadows emerged Ruthvigi, his sword raised as warning.
“Let her go.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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