Male Lead Is Obsessed With My Health - Chapter 220

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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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220
Chapter

Lemuren City-State.
Ludwig, the Grand Duke still called the Regent Duke of the Southern Empire despite having stepped down from his regency, was organizing his room—the one he’d occupied for seven years.
He wanted nothing more than to abandon everything and rush straight to Albrecht, but…….
“Please, compose yourself, my lord. Consider our relationship with the Holy City-State.”
…….
He could not disrespect the Holy City-State, which had sheltered him for a full seven years and aided him in his Closed Prayer.
The Holy City-State operated under strict discipline and rules, with specific procedures a supplicant had to follow upon departure.
One could only leave after gathering one’s belongings, tidying the room thoroughly, performing a final prayer of gratitude, receiving a priest’s blessing, and paying one’s respects.
‘I just want to see Arelin already.’
Ludwig’s heart had already fled to Albrecht, and his worried attendants watched him closely, fearing he might cause some calamity in his impatience.
“You’re returning now, then?”
A high priest, Bertino, appeared at the open doorway and offered a warm smile in greeting.
“I’ve been an imposition on the Holy City-State for far too long.”
“Haha. The Holy City-State always welcomes its believers.”
The elderly priest laughed heartily, his weathered face crinkling with warmth.
When Ludwig had thought Arelin was dead, the world had gone pitch black.
He couldn’t explain that despair. It was different from when he’d lost Sione.
It was precisely because the anguish was so acute that he, unlike himself, had come to the Holy City-State and undertaken the Closed Prayer.
‘The Last God.’
The god who, when the prosperous realm of the gods collapsed and calamity threatened to destroy the world, surrendered his own divinity, descended from his throne, and came to care for his believers.
Lemuren City-State—the sacred ground where the god had manifested in mortal form and the ancient site of the Pantheon—had become a nation devoted to the worship of this sole deity.
The very existence of priests capable of wielding the Divine Power that only ancient holy men once possessed was said to be an act of grace bestowed by the Last God.
‘They say a man standing at the edge of despair eventually turns to a god for salvation.’
Ludwig, who had never once felt the limits of his own ability or acknowledged his own lack, laughed bitterly.
In the end, had he not come here to cling to a god as well?
“We thank you, brother, for the devotion you have shown us these past days.”
Priest Bertino expressed his gratitude, referencing the donations Ludwig had poured out during the Closed Prayer. For Ludwig, if fortune could be bought with gold, he would have gladly spent any sum.
“When I return, I will make larger donations.”
“You’ve already shown such great sincerity. It is more than sufficient.”
“No. There is joyful news, and I must do this.”
As if he would be robbed of this fortune if he didn’t make the donation, Ludwig spoke stubbornly. Bertino smiled and changed the subject.
“That is not the only reason I came myself to seek you out. I’m glad you haven’t yet departed.”
“You came looking for me? What for?”
“There is someone who wishes to see you.”
Ludwig’s expression hardened.
Though Bertino now held no official rank and served only as a high priest, he had once risen to the rank of Cardinal.
There was only one person in this land who could summon Bertino.
“The Holy Maiden wishes to meet with you.”
The symbol of the Holy City-State.
“She says she has words to convey concerning your goddaughter.”

* * *

The Imperial Palace of the Albrecht Empire.
Since returning from the Sperom gathering, Fession had been radiating such an aura of darkness that the Crown Prince Palace had grown even colder—a sheet of ice beneath everyone’s feet.
His attendants trembled and withdrew at every turn, forcing Griam, who had only recently returned to the Crown Prince Palace after his long absence, to serve Fession with his own hands.
“Griam, His Highness has done it again—!”
As the attendants rushed to Griam with their reports, he pressed his palm to his forehead.
Where had his small, dear, docile Crown Prince gone?
Even after his return from the Northern Fortress, he hadn’t been particularly kind to the attendants, but he hadn’t torn the place apart like this.
From morning he’d been wrecking the Imperial Palace’s Royal Guard under the guise of sparring, and he’d vanish at dawn only to suddenly reappear after culling monsters in the forests near the Capital, only to disappear again.
‘What on earth is the matter with him?’
For the past three days, the Crown Prince’s eccentric behavior had been relentless—he’d even taken to drinking heavily, something he normally wouldn’t touch.
“Siru, do you perhaps know why His Highness is acting this way?”
“Me? I have no idea.”
…….
Griam fixed him with a suspicious look, but Siru deliberately played dumb.
“Hmm. Wonder why Fession’s like this. So curious. Ah, I’m dying of curiosity.”
Siru’s answer dripped with theatrical tone, and he quickly slipped away.
Griam watched the space where Siru had vanished and sighed.
Meanwhile, regardless of what was happening beside him, Fession had been in agony these past three days.
…….
Sleeplessness was familiar. The nightmares that came in his sleep too…….
The sensation of his breath being strangled moment by moment, the occasional breathlessness, his attempts to convince himself it was fine, only to crumble when fragments of fleeting memory brushed past him—
All of it was pain he’d grown accustomed to now.
But…….
With his brows drawn tight and his face twisted, Fession stared down at his own hands, which kept clenching and unclenching of their own accord.
It was only a brief touch, yet it burned as if he’d been scalded by fire.
Why did it keep coming back to him?
The moment he held still, that voice would cling to his ears unbidden.
Those beautifully curved eyes, those tender eyes brimming with affection, the way she had seemed to hold all of last night’s moonlight in them alone—when those images surfaced, a sharp pain suddenly pierced his chest.
Fession’s mood plummeted yet again.
Why couldn’t he forget?
Why…….
Why did Arelin keep returning to his mind?
She was a woman who’d clearly been showered with love, who seemed never to have been refused once in her life—so why had she reminded him of Arelin in that moment?
Displeasure and unease, longing and a heartbeat whose nature he couldn’t name—these emotions dominated Fession.
The fact that he’d ordered an investigation of ‘that woman’ yet received no decent information grated on his nerves.
Fession was no fool; he’d already realized someone else’s hand had touched this matter.
‘It must have been Mother’s doing.’
The irritation boiled over.
It would feel far better to return to the Northern Fortress and hurl himself endlessly against monsters.
Unable to bear this confusion and emptiness in a sober state, Fession was about to dash away.
“Hey, big brother? Where are you going in such a rush? At least stop for a moment, yeah?”
“……Siru.”
Even as uncontained bloodlust was seeping from his frame, Siru grinned.
“Got time to kill? Then help me out.”
And so Fession was dragged along by Siru without understanding a thing.
“Where are we going?”
“Black Market.”
Siru, wearing a black mask with ornate golden trim, fitted Fession’s face with a similar design.
The distinctive features of both were altered through Magic.
“That thing Grinia asked about—you still haven’t found it?”
Grinia was an Elder Druid whose name was known even in the United Druid Nations.
“Oh, that. Yeah. Still haven’t found it, but we’re not here for that today.”
“Then?”
“A Divine Beast is supposed to be sold at today’s Black Market auction.”
Siru’s eyes flashed with cold light.
“So I came to see it myself.”
The Divine Beast was both the guardian spirit of the Beast-folk and a treasure of the Albrecht Empire. Moreover, Siru, who received the Divine Beast’s special favor, had an acute hatred for such underground dealings.
Fession watched Siru burn with cold fury and glanced listlessly around.
Masked figures gathered together, their faces hidden so they couldn’t recognize one another.
‘Ciel.’
Yet there were people whose keen eyes could pick out in a crowd.
The moment his gaze met that of a man wearing a white mask that suited him well, Fession knew who he was.
Fession nodded with his eyes, then caught sight of the man standing beside Noel.
‘Who did Noel come with besides……?’
Fession observed the man with an impassive gaze, then quietly furrowed his brow.
“……Mehren?”
He wondered if he’d misread, but there was no way Fession would fail to recognize Mehren.
Why was Mehren here?
Tap, tap-tap-tap, tap.
The lighting in the hall where people had gathered changed as the Auctioneer, wearing a Rabbit Mask, stepped forward in greeting.
“Well then, welcome to all of you seeking something special. Come right in, to the Black Market where we have absolutely everything. Let us ensure your enjoyment today!”

* * *

“The auction’s begun, hasn’t it?”
At Silvi’s words, I nodded. The commotion from upstairs had intensified.
“Well. Finally time to make our move.”
We’d waited long enough.
“Then shall we……?”
“Escape.”
Silvi’s expression brightened.
After my relentless persuasion, she’d finally come to believe I was a mage, and now she looked at me with trust in her eyes.
“And cause some chaos at the auction while we’re at it.”
Master had taught me.
If you cannot have it, steal it.
The dream of a great phantom thief.
I’ll make it come true once and for all.

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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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