The Slave Is Too Handsome - Chapter 91
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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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The slave is far too handsome!
091.
Had he ever wanted anything so desperately?
Lucian had been wrestling with the wood for quite some time. He’d pushed through the terrifying rain and gathered as much Firewood and kindling as he could manage.
After splitting the wet wood to secure dry timber, he did everything he could to coax a flame to life.
“There!”
After a long struggle, when a small spark finally appeared, a bright smile bloomed across his face.
He hurried the Firewood into the flames to nurture the spark. The dark Cave grew luminous with the blaze now roaring brightly.
He set aside, for now, the worry that Camilo’s Assassin might find them by this light. Warming his body came first.
And so Lucian spent a brief respite in the warmth, waiting for his soaked clothes to dry.
***
Eloïse, examining an Arrow, glanced quickly at Frederick.
“Frederick, we have to run!”
“Go first! I’ll cover your retreat!”
Frederick understood the situation from her eyes alone and sent Eloïse ahead.
She kicked the horse’s flank and it lurched forward. She thought they’d escaped, but a relentless volley of Arrows continued.
Eloïse ran straight ahead without pause. Just when she thought she’d gained distance, more Arrows came flying.
Then an Arrow grazed the horse’s hindquarters, and the startled beast reared. The impact threw Eloïse from its back, and she tumbled down the Slope.
After rolling down for a long distance, her body finally came to rest on level ground.
“Hah…….”
The soft earth had cushioned her fall; there were no serious injuries. Eloïse lay there exhausted for a moment, then forced herself to sit up and survey her surroundings.
Unlike the horse that had abandoned her and vanished, her Backpack remained secured on her back.
After brushing the wet dirt from her clothes, Eloïse withdrew a Compass from her Backpack.
She had to reach the next Cliff no matter what. With her direction set, she moved through the Grassland, careful to make no sound.
After walking for some time—though she couldn’t gauge how long—a large Cave appeared in the distance.
“…….”
The next Cliff lay in a different direction entirely from the Cave. Yet Eloïse found herself drawn toward it as though enchanted.
Inside, the Cave was dark and damp, and empty. Exhausted, Eloïse sank down where she stood.
Despair crept back into her thoughts, but she shook her head firmly against it.
‘Lucian is alive, and we’ll win in the end.’
She repeated it to herself like an incantation.
Then she felt a chill at her back. Eloïse turned carefully and her expression froze.
A figure in a black Cloak and black mask stood at the Cave entrance, radiating death. It was the Assassin sent by Camilo.
The moment their eyes met, the man drove his sword at her without hesitation.
“……!!”
She threw herself backward and barely dodged the blade. But before she could recover, the man, smirking at how easily he was toying with her, drove his sword through the hem of her Cloak.
Her feet pinned, Eloïse urgently tore her Cloak free while the man hummed to himself and walked toward her slowly.
She’d just shed the Cloak and was struggling to her feet when the man yanked the sword free from the ground.
Eloïse stumbled backward, her feet slipping, and she fell.
In her panic, she grabbed the Dagger at her waist—but in that moment, an Arrow flew from behind her and struck the man directly in the heart.
He made no sound and fell backward.
Eloïse watched in shock, scarcely breathing, and went rigid.
The one who’d fired the Arrow was walking slowly toward her from behind.
Her heart raced wildly. A silent scream tore from her throat.
“……Eloïse?”
Eloïse forced herself to steady her breathing and tried to make sense of the moment. She couldn’t bring herself to turn around.
The man knelt to meet her gaze.
“How did you…….”
It was Lucian—the very man she’d sought desperately, willing to face death itself.
His face was tense as he looked at her.
“Are you hurt?”
Eloïse managed a nod at his gentle voice, but his tight expression didn’t soften.
“……Give me a moment. Just a moment. I need to make sure he’s really dead.”
After reassuring Eloïse, Lucian rose and checked the fallen man’s condition again.
Looking at the man whose life had clearly ended, he clicked his tongue in frustration.
‘I should have captured him alive, not killed him.’
For a moment, regret washed over him for taking the man’s life without thought. Yet even if he could return to that same instant, he would strike him down again without hesitation.
Lucian hoisted the large man’s body.
He threw the corpse in a place unlikely to be easily spotted, in case the Assassin’s companions came looking.
Then he lingered at the Cave entrance, checking whether any other Assassins lurked nearby.
Once he was certain it was safe, he returned to Eloïse.
“Let’s move to a safer place.”
Lucian spoke calmly, trying to reassure her.
Yet he couldn’t control the hammering of his own heart. The terror he’d felt when Eloïse nearly died was squeezing his chest.
“?!!”
Before she could protest, Lucian swept his arm beneath her legs and lifted her effortlessly. Startled, Eloïse clung to his neck.
Despite her own cold skin, his warmth was unmistakable. Yet she still couldn’t quite believe that Lucian was alive, that they’d truly found each other again.
Holding Eloïse close, Lucian carried her deeper into the Cave.
He walked in silence for a long while. Eloïse, cradled in his arms, said nothing either.
Could it be that the end of this darkness led not to hell, but somewhere worse?
Just as Eloïse was thinking such things, the endless darkness began to brighten. A distant light grew visible.
‘Perhaps this is the path to heaven, not hell.’
As Eloïse drifted in a haze, her vision grew clearer.
A Firewood fire burned brightly, illuminating the interior, and beyond it lay another Cave entrance.
From the scattered belongings about, this appeared to be where Lucian had been staying.
As Lucian set Eloïse down near the fire, he fell silent.
“…….”
In the darkness and chaos before, he hadn’t truly seen her; now, looking at Eloïse properly, she was a sight.
Her hair was tangled, her face marked with scratches from the fall, her entire body caked with dirt. The sodden, bedraggled state of her was far beyond merely pitiful—it was heartbreaking.
But that wasn’t why Lucian looked so startled.
“Why are you crying, Eloïse?”
Eloïse was crying.
The moment he saw tears streaming down her cheeks, Lucian’s throat tightened.
“I’m not crying. It’s rainwater.”
“……Yes, I understand.”
Thinking what a very Eloïse thing that was to say, he carefully dried her eyes with his thumb.
He’d expected her to pull away from his touch, but instead she remained still.
“You’re not hurt?”
“What kind of question is that? I’m fine. More importantly, are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?”
Eloïse answered his question with a calm nod, then stifled her tears and spoke.
“If you’d died……I would never have let it rest.”
“……What?”
Lucian, who’d been gently arranging her damp, tangled hair, flinched at her words.
When he looked down, fierce eyes locked with his.
“I’d never let you go. I’d chase you to the very depths of hell itself.”
At Eloïse’s resolute declaration, Lucian found himself laughing despite everything.
“Eloïse, why would you drag such a virtuous man down to hell?”
An even fiercer gaze returned before he could finish his words—one that asked if he had the audacity to joke at a moment like this. Lucian flinched again.
“……You’re right. I think you really would follow me to hell’s end.”
He carefully picked a small twig from her hair. Her voice trembling as she sniffled, Eloïse added,
“You’re all I have…….”
Lucian set his jaw, fighting the urge to kiss her right then, and instead pulled her into a tight embrace.
The small body nestled against his shook slightly—she was trying hard not to cry, but couldn’t quite manage it.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
At his tender whisper, Eloïse bit her lip. Still, small sobs escaped her despite her best efforts.
After patting her back for a long time, Lucian carefully pulled her away from his chest.
Her face was even more disheveled than before.
“Eloïse, forgive me for a moment.”
“Hmm?”
Lucian reached out carefully and touched the nape of her neck. Her startled body trembled. Drenched by the rain, her skin was ice-cold.
Sighing deeply—a sigh that seemed to shake the very earth—he drew Eloïse closer to the Firewood blaze.
“Remove your clothes, Eloïse.”
“……What? What do you mean?”
“Your clothes. Take them off.”
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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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