Chapter 57 Recovery
Nova was awakened by the sunlight hitting his face. He frowned and forced his eyes open. The curtains were carefully drawn, making the room slightly dim. Only a small amount of sunlight shone through the cracks, blinding him and causing him to squint instinctively. His head was still groggy, and his fingers had lost the strength to clench.
He forgot to wear gloves last night and didn't know when the other person left. Fortunately, there were no signs of scratching or biting on his fingertips, which clearly showed that the drug had a good calming effect.
A slight noise came from outside the bedroom. He pushed open the door in his pajamas and saw that the study's ceiling and floor had indeed been repaired and looked like new. Unfortunately, his study was overcrowded. The chaotic books alone almost covered the entire floor, leaving no room for a single step. The God's Chosen One stood in the center of the room, his golden hair levitating under an invisible force. Nearby, books and various small items seemed to be suspended in mid-air as if by magic—or rather, magic—and obeyed his command, bouncing and flying to their respective locations.
For a moment, he wondered if he was in a Disney or Miyabi cartoon.
The magician heard the noise and turned around in surprise, with a calm and gentle look between his brows.
"Are you awake? Why don't you sleep a little longer?"
The man landed beside him lightly like a weightless feather, first touching his forehead very naturally, then picking up the cloak hanging on the back of the chair and hugging him.
Nova was still a little dazed when he woke up, and then he was wrapped in a cloak that was stained with the scent of another person.
The man took his hand, and without knowing what he did, the professor suddenly felt his whole body lighten. He subconsciously grasped the man's arm, and in a flash, he was shoved into the only available chair, and naturally, a bowl of steaming medicine was stuffed into his hand.
Nova: “…”
Why does it give me such a weird sense of déjà vu?
The table was also scattered with a few pieces of crystal ores, loose bone specimens, glass bottles filled with unknown powders or liquids, hand-drawn map books, rolled-up maps, small scales, brass crucibles and several feathers of strange and eye-catching colors.
"There's still some finishing work left - I have to say, this is a big project." The God-favored One exclaimed with a hint of amazement.
Azuka couldn't help but think of his dragon. There was a time when the God's Chosen would wake up every day to find some... bizarre trophy on his pillow, perhaps a few pieces of raw gemstone still covered in dirt, or perhaps a scrap iron spoon polished to a smooth finish. But the greedy screaming chicken only admired any glittering "treasure," while his professor loved to fill his nest with all kinds of bizarre books and collections—he'd even spotted a few cookbooks just now.
It is not difficult to explain where the other party's ridiculously broad range of knowledge comes from.
Nova hummed slowly, calmly stuffed the medicine bowl into the pile of miscellaneous items on the table, and watched the other party return to his original place to continue his work.
It had to be said that the blond wizard standing in the morning light was a delight to behold, and the magic he performed was also quite entertaining. The professor had his own peculiar logic for storing and displaying his treasures, which would have been completely confusing to anyone else, leaving them looking disorganized. But perhaps due to his exceptional memory or a close understanding of his habits, the wizard had managed to perfectly place all his scattered pieces in their proper places.
In the final analysis, it comes down to one thing: the male lead is great.
"Sorry, the rest of these probably can't be restored to their original state."
The professor came back to his senses, snorted coldly, and simply tore off a piece of paper, wrote a list, and slapped it into the palm of the God-favored One's hand.
The other man held up the list, raising an eyebrow slightly. "A mutant Diplodocus spine, a red pine cone, an argonaut shell, dipterocarp seeds, a peregrine falcon wing, a specimen of an adult male Hercules beetle, a bag of magnesia ore, three bottles of kerosene, and a set of large, medium, and small beakers..."
He looked directly at the last line of words: "And three silver coins and fifteen copper coins?"
"The cheapest pair of glasses costs about half a month's salary for me. Please pass this list of debts to your friend, and he'll have two weeks to complete the task." The professor gave him a cold look. "I think this is for your sake, and I'm especially grateful that I've memorized those precious, out-of-print books that were destroyed. Otherwise..."
I will make his life a living hell, and I will do what I say - those smoky, cold and ruthless eyes said so.
But the threatened fellow merely paused, then chuckled in response, even boldly ruffling his messy morning hair. What the hell was wrong with this guy? The professor immediately raised his head and glared at him, but the other man's hand slid down dishonestly, gently pressing the back of his neck. The slightly cool touch made him subconsciously shrink back, like a cat being grabbed by the vitals.
"Your medicine will get cold if you don't take it now." The other party reminded gently.
"...I'm fine now." The villain replied indifferently.
"I don't think so." The male protagonist calmly leaned over, retrieved the medicine bowl hidden in the shadow of the pile of books, and moved it in front of the other person.
His nemesis sat there motionless, his eyelids drooping in indifference: "It tastes terrible, and the smell is disgusting."
Azuka pondered for a moment and said, "In exchange—after you recover from your illness, you can drink three cups of coffee a day."
"Four cups." The guy immediately bargained with him, looking like he was expecting this. "Sufficient caffeine allows me to maintain high work efficiency. Compared to before, I have cut my coffee intake in half."
The God-favored One remained unmoved: "Three cups, no more."
"Oh come on, coffee isn't going to kill me, I'm going to die without coffee—"
"Three cups, my sir, that's non-negotiable." The magician remained gentle and kind. "Or would you like me to use some unconventional methods every night to make you fall asleep at the appointed time?"
"Deal." The other party immediately took advantage of the situation, picked up the medicine bowl and drank it all, then grimaced in the bitterness.
Azuka peeled a candy with amusement and stuffed it into the man's mouth - he also kept the candy in the man's coat pocket to prevent the man from forgetting to eat when he was not around and causing... uh, "low blood sugar" and fainting.
His professor wasn't good at taking care of himself, having a strangely carefree attitude towards his body: "As long as I'm alive, I'm fine." Sometimes he'd become a workaholic, or when he came across a topic that interested him, pulling all-nighters was a common occurrence, often forgetting to eat.
It is so fragile and difficult to raise. After this disease, the little bit of flesh that was previously gained seems to have disappeared again.
You can't always be soft on people, he warned himself. When the other person gets better, maybe simple martial arts training should be put on the agenda, not for self-protection, but just to strengthen the body.
Nova suddenly felt a chill on his back. He looked up suspiciously, but saw another person in the study with gentle eyes and eyebrows, smiling at him beautifully.
He paused and looked away expressionlessly.
——I always feel that this person is... inexplicably terrifying.
…
That "debt list" was almost torn to pieces by Ole Assachi.
Someone sent him a message via crow, and when he arrived at the agreed location, full of anger and questions, he was severely beaten before he could even say a word.
That bastard was absolutely serious, his attacks were incredibly ruthless. As the fight progressed, Orel's fury grew, and he attempted a fatal blow, only to be mercilessly sent flying. Over time, his opponent's magical proficiency seemed even more profound and unfathomable. In the end, he even shuddered, as if he were facing a violent, humanoid catastrophe that would rip apart the sky and the earth—even time and space.
The other party was clearly in a bad mood, and Orel didn't want to completely anger him at this moment. So, this "morning greeting," a show of restraint on both sides, ultimately ended without any broken limbs. Orel lay on the ground, trying to calm his rapid breathing. After a few breaths, he suddenly said, "...I still have your sword."
The other person groaned faintly, his face and arms still covered in bloody scratches. Then, despite his obsessive-compulsive disorder, he lay down beside him, shoulder to shoulder, as if transported back to the past.
"When did you recover your memory?" his friend asked him calmly.
"Not long ago, probably a few days before you came to the Scarlet Bazaar. It's a pity that the magic hasn't recovered to its previous level." Orel looked sideways at him - wow, look at that pretty face that is exactly the same as the one deep in his memory. Who would have thought that when the two first met at the Scarlet Bazaar, the other party was wearing a little skirt, had long hair, and was covered in dust because of avoiding pursuit. He actually thought she was a gentle and timid pretty girl - so when the guy asked him for help, he just hesitated for a moment and agreed without any guard. As a result, he was cheated badly afterwards, and thus started a bad relationship.
Be careful in making friends. Be careful in making friends.
The man hummed noncommittally, pretending to be serious. Seeing this, Ole clenched his fists even more tightly. He couldn't help but punched the man hard on the shoulder: "Don't you want to explain anything?"
The man didn't dodge, taking the punch head-on. After a moment's silence, he suddenly spoke, "I'm sorry, Ole... for what happened earlier, for my unwarranted and unfair arrogance toward you."
"...Oh my god of the night, this scared me."
Ole sat up suddenly, picked up his two swords and held them in his arms, a vigilant look on his brown face: "Who are you? Where is Azuka? What did you do to him?"
Is this guy going to speak frankly someday?!
The other person raised his eyelids and glanced at him. The familiar expression of half-smile immediately made him feel a lot more at ease.
"Don't apologize. This evil look suits you better." Ole Asaqi snorted coldly. "After all, it's for our own good in the end, isn't it?"
——But he really deserves a beating.
"What on earth were you thinking?" He stared at his friend gloomily and suspiciously. "Choosing to hang out with that kind of person instead of killing him immediately—have you forgotten how crazy he is and how much harm he has done to us?"
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