Male Lead Is Obsessed With My Health - Chapter 44

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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 44

Splat—scarlet fluid sprayed wide across the ground.
The endless tide of foreign monsters faltered as their numbers dwindled sharply.
Whoooooo—
A sharp horn blast sounded from behind the invaders.
At the sound signaling the enemy’s retreat, the garrison finally released a collective sigh of relief from those who had held the line flawlessly for four days straight.
Leaning against the castle walls, knights and soldiers who had sustained the battle across those four grueling days lowered their guard and watched the enemy withdraw.
“Ah, it’s over.”
“Stay away, you damned beasts.”
Soldiers and knights collapsed like marionettes with cut strings, gasping for breath.
There was no time to celebrate survival. This had become routine, after all.
So ended yet another fierce battle, the count of which no one could keep.
At the very front lines, a single man who had felled the most monsters and erected mountains of corpses.
A man of dazzling beauty ill-suited to the battlefield removed his gloves, soaked with blood and bodily fluids.
His violet eyes, unusually crimson tonight, were lost in deep contemplation.

“Would it not be well for you to return, at least once?”

What troubled his mind was neither the endless tide of monsters nor the scattered crises piling up at the Northern Castle daily, threatening to burst forth.

“This is not a suggestion, nor mere counsel—it is the final plea of a friend.”
“Should the lady truly collapse and never rise again…….”
“Will you not regret it?”

A thought he would normally have dismissed lingered heavily today.
A voice that would not fade even after slaughtering tens of thousands of monsters.
“What are you doing, standing there vacant?”
The Grand Duke of Halbern, Valere, turned to face the one who had drawn him from his reverie.
The knight, like him drenched in blood and fluids, bore the exhaustion of prolonged combat.
“Jaren.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Do you also think I should return?”
An abrupt question.
It was difficult to grasp the context, but Jaren swiftly read between the lines. Though that was hardly to say he found it easy to answer.
“Well, that would be Your Grace’s choice, wouldn’t it?”
“Just as it was yours to follow me for a dragon sighting.”
“……Yes.”
Jaren, struck by the unexpected retort, pouted slightly before glancing sidelong at the Grand Duke lost in thought once more.
The Grand Duke of Halbern had been in low spirits lately. Because of that, the Northern Castle’s already somber atmosphere had grown all the more suffocating.
‘Was this the reason?’
“Well, even the Saren Knights don’t breathe a word, but they’re curious all the same. Your sudden departure north was quite without warning, wasn’t it?”
His eyes, deepening from violet to purple, held Jaren’s gaze.
“Our lord vanishes for days and suddenly reappears, then suddenly there’s a child, then off to the Imperial Palace without a word, and just like that—to the Northern Castle we go. We’ve all been driven stakes through here along with you.”
Yet not a shred of complaint had surfaced, which spoke volumes about the faith his knights held in the Grand Duke.
“I see.”
The Grand Duke removed his uniform as though bored.
Though the Coat was layered with protective magic, four days of rolling across the front lines had left it soaked with monster fluids.
“Jaren, do you also despise this land?”
“Well, who could like such a place?”
Jaren weighed his words before deciding, having started, to continue unfiltered.
“In truth, many are anxious they’ll be forced to spend their whole lives here.”
Still no response came.
No answer at all.
His eyes, gleaming with violet radiance, turned upward to the sky. A pale blue moon gazed down upon them in silence.
“What occupy your thoughts?”
“The castle keeper’s words—how monsters grew more violent from the moment we arrived?”
“Ah, yes. That was just something people say, wasn’t it? From what I recall, the northern monsters were always terrible.”
“And that condition is accelerating.”
“Sir?”
It seemed he sought no answer, for the Grand Duke turned his gaze toward distant horizons.
The Northern Castle stood as the sole passage between the calamitous land called the Abyss and the territory of men.
Every other approach was sealed by natural fortifications and barriers no monster, however powerful or tenacious of life, could breach.
“How many years have we been stuck here?”
“Six years, more or less, wouldn’t you say?”
Six years.
Long by some measure, brief by others.
“Perhaps it’s time…”
…to return.
“??”
The Grand Duke seized the hilt of the sword he had thrown bare-handed and issued a command.
“Make ready, Jaren.”
“Sir? For what?”
“To fulfill your wish.”
“……?”
The Grand Duke’s eyes lowered.
“Let’s go see the dragon.”
“???”
Jaren’s eyes rolled in confusion.
‘What did that man just say?’
When he looked at his lord again, for the first time in ages, he was smiling—faintly.

* * *

Master Quaien, Duke of Muybisk and tutor to the Crown Prince, marveled at Fession’s increasingly remarkable progress these days.
“Truly, you shine brighter with each passing day.”
“It’s hardly talent alone, Master.”
“Quite right. At this pace, I may need to revise the training regimen.”
Recent events seemed to have kindled new inspiration; a resolve unlike anything before gleamed in Fession’s swordwork.
Sir Jade straightened his shoulders with satisfaction.
“How does Harun fare?”
“Ah, as for Harun…”
Watching Harun deliberate over his sword, Sir Jade held his tongue. Master Quaien chuckled softly.
“He’s reached a plateau, it seems. Well, that one has always been timid.”
“Less timid than…”
“He fears his own strength—afraid he might harm others too easily. That’s what timidity is.”
Sir Jade wanted to protest but found himself unable to object.
“That’s why I had him admitted to the palace as a guardian knight.”
His temperament was too gentle for the battlefield. Yet perhaps it would serve him better to protect another.
“……Though he must still overcome this wall.”
“Is that so?”
“Well, if he can’t, it matters little.”
Quaien took it in stride.
“Should he lay down his sword, I would gladly support him. If times were turbulent with war sweeping the land, I would naturally insist he take up steel. But in this age of peace, there is no necessity to live reeking of blood.”
Though his house’s tradition held the sword, and his children had naturally followed, he was prepared to encourage them warmly should they choose another path.
“What does a sword bring but the stench of blood?”
“Ha. When Master Quaien speaks thus, it pricks my conscience.”
“Master!”
Fession, having completed his quota of training with impressive speed, rushed over.
“Are you finished?”
“Yes!”
Quaien, who had been chuckling, suddenly wore a mischievous smile.
“How fares your progress with building strength for that frail friend of yours?”
At first, he hadn’t known who this “frail friend” was, but he’d learned by chance recently.
That it was Arelin of Halbern.
‘It won’t be easy.’
She was quite the renowned Terminal Condition case, after all.
Indeed, Fession’s expression grew serious.
“I’m having her exercise diligently, but the muscles just won’t seem to form. She’s still soft.”
“Hmm, I see.”
Quaien recalled the discussion from the “Second Arelin Health Council” held just recently.
“It seems she’s not improving in health at all. What should I do?”
A statement that had shocked everyone who believed exercise alone would suffice.
Not improving despite exercising?!
While everyone sat stunned, it was Master Quaien alone who offered a solution.
“You need to have her undergo proper exercise.”
“But I’m already having her exercise?”
“What I mean is Systematic Exercise Training.”
“Systematic Exercise Training?”
One did not drill soldiers and knights haphazardly either.
For someone of her weakness—one needed to think not in terms of an ordinary person, but treat them as an infant. Quaien had proposed accordingly.
“First, you must build muscle.”
“Muscle!”
Fession achieved enlightenment.
“That’s right! How could I have overlooked it!”
And so they had all put their heads together to devise a “Systematic Exercise Training Plan”.
‘Exercise alone won’t suffice, is it.’
“Come to think of it.”
Quaien’s thoughts drifted elsewhere, and he began.
“Is her diet being managed properly?”
Fession, who had been hanging his head dejected, snapped it up.
“Diet?!”
Fession’s eyes widened.
“Yes. To build muscle, one must eat plenty of meat.”
“Meat!”
“One cannot simply eat any meat. I shall share with you a special Muscle-Building Diet Secret—do try it.”
“Oh oh oh, Master! Thank you!”
Watching the delighted Fession, Master Quaien smiled warmly.
There—he’d done good today.

* * *

“Fesssssion!”
What cursed spawn was it
who had taught this demon the forbidden knowledge of diet management?

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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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