Chapter 141 Scars

They emerged from the confined space, their gaze filled with countless dark, interconnected passages. A chilling wind blew from an unknown distance, carrying the scent of earth and decay, evoking death. The highest floor of the underground chamber was barely half a head taller than the Savior himself, while the lowest levels required stooping, making it seem exceedingly oppressive.

"...This is probably a huge and ancient underground cemetery." The professor stared at the densely packed broken human bones exposed on the mud wall beside him and couldn't help but whispered - except for the believers of the fire god Farr, most of the indigenous people on the continent of Ambrose did not have the custom of cremation, so the living lived on the ground and the dead slept underground.

The surface of the cemetery tunnel was also strewn with countless shredded, white bone fragments, which crunched softly under the heels of boots. Scavenging insects burrowed in and out of the mud walls, but the dimness and the lack of glasses made it difficult for the professor to discern them. He tugged at someone's collar, once again trying to get them to be put down—but the person ignored him and simply pinched the back of his neck menacingly.

...Okay, now is definitely not the time to study hobbies. The most urgent thing is to change into a set of wearable clothes.

Several Sons of Life suddenly appeared at the corner of the tunnel—a group of red-robed, white-faced figures appearing in the silent, dim tomb tunnel. Honestly, the scene was quite terrifying. But those people seemed not to see them, and the two of them easily passed by these Sons of Life and entered another, more spacious, uninhabited cave.

The savior directly took out a set of spare clothes from the multi-function communicator. The professor looked at him approvingly and without hesitation took off the white robe that always reminded him of bad memories. His movements were so fast that someone who wanted to go out to avoid suspicion did not have time to avoid his sight.

The young man's gaunt, bony form, completely exposed to the cold air, instantly triggered a slight, instinctive shudder. His skin was a pale, bloodless color, the color of sunlight, so pale that even the slightest trace of blood would be glaring. The bones beneath his skin were cold, sharp, and thin, bearing the obvious signs of fatigue from a heavy daily workload and unhealthy lifestyle. Though still quite young, he hardly evoked the warmth and softness of "life." Instead, he resembled a combination of mist, ruins, deathly silence, and a dilapidated, crumbling statue.

Just as the professor frowned and carefully judged the traces on the white robe that he had just taken off and smelled of disinfectant, wondering whether it was residual blood or some chemical agent, a hand suddenly pressed on his bare shoulder.

He was stunned for a moment, then realized belatedly that his shoulders, neck, and back were covered with scratches caused by anxiety, which probably didn't look very good.

"...It's just a minor injury, nothing serious." Nova frowned and tried to shake off the impolite hand. But the other person held on tightly, and an unfamiliar warmth seeped down his shoulder. An inexplicable premonition of danger gave him a sudden, illogical urge to run out the door.

——He couldn’t see his companion’s face now, and had no idea of ​​his emotions.

"Please stand up."

He heard the male protagonist command in an unusually calm tone.

“…”

The warm palm slowly grasped the scrape on the elbow, and the cold skin had the illusion of being burned by fire, arousing a subtle pain: "How did this happen?"

Not knowing what this guy was going to do next, the professor cautiously stared at the smiling mask on his face and said, "He fell."

The dull pain in his back suddenly intensified, and he hissed subconsciously. The man paused, and the strength of his hand probing the wound became much gentler: "Here?"

"It hurts."

The Savior didn't seem to mind his concise and defiant words, and continued to slowly and methodically question him with a nerve-wracking patience about every scar that hadn't appeared before they parted ways.

Strictly speaking, being naked in front of his own kind wasn't enough to embarrass Nova, but he didn't have such a strange habit. He wanted to use the excuse of "feeling cold" and at least put on some clothes, but the magic tool was radiating heat from his chest. After struggling for a while, the black-haired young man was forced to sit down, his calf held lightly by another person's hand.

Someone's obsession with cleanliness seemed to have completely vanished, and blood and mud stained the savior's usually spotless fingers. His burning fingertips brushed against the purple, damaged marks on his ankle, causing pain, itching, and an inexplicable numbness. Before the other person could speak, Nova replied directly, "It was rubbed by the handcuffs. It's just a superficial injury."

He decided to make a joke: "Do you know that you look like you are sexually harassing someone right now?"

“…”

Someone who was half-kneeling on the ground was holding his calf. Hearing this, he slowly raised his head and stared at him with his eyes behind the mask without saying a word.

Nova realized it belatedly: "...Wait, did I make another inappropriate joke?"

Seeing that the person still didn't speak, he kept his face expressionless but quickly admitted his mistake and apologized: "I'm sorry, I was wrong."

Since he couldn't see the other person's facial expression, Nova hesitated and added, "I don't mean to blame you, don't be angry."

“…”

Azuka sighed deeply and finally removed his mask, revealing a face that glowed softly in the dim light. His nemesis visibly relaxed, even becoming more interested in competing with him. "Let go. I need to get dressed."

The hand on the calf remained motionless.

Nova frowned. The other person's beautiful face was half-hidden in shadow, making it hard to discern his emotions. But this whole ordeal was exhausting, both physically and mentally. Suddenly relaxed, he even felt a little sleepy, and an urge to just give up and let it go—let this bastard do whatever he wanted. After all, he couldn't do anything to him.

His shoulders felt slightly heavy, and just when he was distracted, the other person let go of him at some point and helped him put on his shirt.

The man bent down and helped him button his collar, and said slowly: "If I say I won't heal your wound, it's because I want you to learn a lesson..."

The Savior raised her head slightly, a gloomy storm in her beautiful blue eyes: "Will you feel angry and sad about this?"

“……?”

Nova was a little stunned. For a moment he didn't know how to answer.

Lessons, what lessons? He didn't think he was wrong - he had even instinctively concealed the fact that he had threatened the Arbiter with suicide, but his companions still seemed very angry, perhaps because he didn't protect himself "better" - although he could do it, but if he could get significant benefits and achieve his goals at some not-so-serious cost, why not do it?

"...You don't seem to understand what I'm angry about."

His old enemy rarely showed a confused look, even a little aggrieved, with a hint of helplessness and unconscious grievance, which made the organs deep in his chest soften a little bit.

The other person gently lifted his cheek and carefully observed his expression. Too close, the professor's breath was warm and felt the professor frown uncomfortably. He subconsciously wanted to look away—but he couldn't move.

Since they met, the coldness, strength and subtle madness hidden under this person's usual gentle appearance made his anxiety reach its peak at this moment.

But in the end, the other person just sighed softly and gently pressed him into his arms. A faint light shone in his palm, and all the dark aches in his body gradually dissipated like snow melted by the sun.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blamed you or frightened you." The Savior's voice softened. "In your opinion, I've done everything to the best of my ability, right?"

The person in his arms nodded silently.

Even though he already knew this man didn't care about his health and life, Azuka still had the urge to grit his teeth and beat him up. But he didn't show his anger at all, so as not to scare his enemy, who was already slightly furious in his arms.

There is no point in arguing with others. If you argue with this guy in a tough manner, the end result will only make him angry to death, and he will be confused and think that you are being unreasonable.

"I've said before, I respect your personal wishes." Azuka's tone was unusually calm, almost eerie. "Although I don't agree with you putting yourself on the scales of comparison, I strongly disagree—but if this is the only outcome after careful consideration, I won't stop you."

"…even if the other side of the scale is your life."

He felt torn. Half of him clamored to swallow the star burning with brilliant strange fire whole, hiding it in the hollow of his chest, somewhere no one could find it. The other half rationally and coldly understood that the cruel star he was loyal to would die completely the moment it stopped burning, leaving only a cold, black corpse.

"...But you cannot, and should not, show such indifference to the torture and pain you endure." The Savior slowly lowered his eyes, hugged the person in his arms tighter, and suppressed an urge. His voice trembled slightly. "This gives me a bad feeling. As if one day you will so calmly, peacefully, and rationally choose to embrace death alone, even refusing to ask me for help."

He felt his nemesis, whom he held tightly in his arms, hesitate for a moment, then tentatively reach out his hand and pat his back awkwardly. It was obvious that the other party was not good at comforting people, and his movements were extremely stiff.

...so gentle.

Someone delivered the final blow without hesitation: "I'm scared."

After a long while, Azuka finally heard with satisfaction the person in his arms express his inner thoughts to him in a somewhat awkward and halting manner: "...I won't do that. You are my most trusted companion."

His voice was stiff and hesitant. "I'm just not used to showing my most vulnerable side in front of people, because it doesn't help solve the problem itself."

"But if this makes you feel at ease..." The other party was silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke a long string of words in a low and rapid voice: "I'm cold and painful, everything I see is disgusting, and it puts me under a lot of mental pressure. I have to keep dealing with disgusting idiots..."

The Savior's eyes curved silently. He kissed the man's hair gently and calmly, like a gust of mist blowing across a statue.

He heard the person in his arms hesitate for a moment, then suddenly whispered, "One more thing."

"——Actually, I'm very happy to see you again. Your presence makes me feel at ease."