The Black-Haired Handsome Boy
I imagined this handsome boy collapsing into my arms, breathing his last in a grand manner. For exactly one second.
But the boy seemed to topple toward me for a moment, then rose again. He looked down at me.
He’s tall.
His face was so pretty yet he was so tall. He stared at me intently, then turned his gaze to Pythia.
“Saintess.”
“Ah, let us go.”
The boy removed his robe in front of me. His fingers, pale and straight, were so elegant they bordered on sensual.
Watching those fingers undo the buttons felt like viewing a bedroom scene from a movie.
Of course, there should have been clothes underneath a man’s robe……
It was unexpected. No, not that there were no clothes. But the clothes were soaked in blood, not rainwater.
This person is injured, right?
“Arian.”
Pythia urged me, and I snapped out of my daze, taking the robe from the boy’s hands.
I was worried about the blood dripping from my robe outside the door, so I quickly brought a wooden barrel and placed it there to collect it.
Watching Pythia support him, I went to the kitchen and boiled water. Clean water was the first thing a wounded person needed.
Fortunately, this shabby house, unlike its appearance, had quite a few useful items. I should be able to nurse him decently.
Before I gathered everything, I wanted to take a quick look at how he was lying. That way I could figure out what to bring…… Why is there nothing?
This house only has three rooms: my room, Pythia’s room, and the guest room.
If it’s not in the guest room, then it isn’t here, but there’s only one door in this house.
So the fact that I didn’t see it near the door means……
No way?
I walked over quickly, and there, praying with his palm-sized hands while blood dripped, was the handsome boy.
I was stunned and clasped my hands behind him. Immediately, a voice rang out in my mind.
{Pick him up right now and don’t let him get away! If Pythia is in that state, you should pull yourself together! You received the Status Window, so pay for it! Hurry! Damn, he’s bleeding!}
Hmm, so that’s Gerka’s personality? Even the gods have personalities.
‘I’ll be right there.’
Ah, only days ago I was the precious daughter of a steward, and now my life has turned into this.
I quickly grabbed the boy and lifted him.
Wow, his body reeked of rain, blood, and other strange smells.
That I could even smell this from his face means he’s really handsome.
“Oh no, Arian!”
“If someone dies from praying, who will Gerka get instead?”
At my words, Pythia nodded, as if to say it made sense.
Then she quickly offered the boy the empty bowl.
Is he a psychopath……
I was left speechless, but the boy, as if he had expected it, reached into his pocket and poured the entire pouch of coins into Pythia’s empty bowl.
Whoa, even in fairy tales this is a lot.
Pythia smiled brightly.
“Oh my, Damien, so many gold coins? The gods will surely bless you.”
What, gold coins?!
Oh, oh. Such a pretty face, and he’s even my type? Wow, guest, I’ll serve you quickly.
“Let us go, guest.”
You get the service you paid for.
Armed with a thorough service mindset, I guided the visitor to the guest room.
Damien Hamilcar had not woken for two days.
And I was starting to want to pass out too. My type, even with a perfect face, my potential partner had a fatal flaw.
[Damien Hamilcar, 12 years old.]
The Hamilcar duchy of Hamilcar territory would only have one family. Honestly, I didn’t even think there could be another Hamilcar in this country.
I had only seen him at three years old, and the impact of his father was too great, so I didn’t notice him at all……
Digging through memories, I recalled. There was a child with an appearance so impactful that it didn’t lose. Walking sculptures had been made, but I thought it would change. But the switch seems to have turned on.
The eldest son of the Hamilcar count……
I could just brush aside the count and marry him, but my heart didn’t want it.
Marrying someone who is covered in blood and throws a fistful of gold coins into the empty bowl? That sounds like a shortcut to ruining one’s life.
With looks this perfect, if he had no economic sense, even if he were the king, it wouldn’t solve anything.
Moreover, there’s no guarantee his looks will stay that way. How many foreign celebrities have I raised like pets online?
Of those, not a single one has kept their appearance.
Furthermore, this guy’s stats are terribly bad.
[Assassination S / Swordsmanship A / Gambling S / Accounting C]
Assassination and gambling? Weren’t we the same age? Why is a twelve-year-old S in both?
He should be the ripe fruit of a tree that hasn’t sprouted yet, but the leaves are already yellowing.
Online life seniors told me. It’s not possible to change a person.
You’re rotten. I’m giving up on you.
Quickly stamping ‘rejected’ on Damien’s face in my mind…… I hesitated.
Whoa, his face is really a gangster.
“Please…… please……”
The pretty face suffering from high fever was rambling nonsense.
Ah, it’s pitiful. I quickly recalled the healing potion I had hidden.
Thinking about the money I received, I probably should give him a potion or two.
But humans have natural healing power, right? With Assassination S and Swordsmanship A, his body is sturdy, so couldn’t the hole in his side be healed with natural recovery?
I waited a day, but the feeling was strong that it wouldn’t work. The bandages were still soaking with blood.
Pythia kept licking the bandages, saying it hurts, but that’s…… I haven’t been to medical school, but I’ve heard you shouldn’t lick bandages.
It’s like a crazy medieval world. Has he gone mad for real?
“Ah, damn. My body is like glass, it pisses me off.”
On the third day, at midnight, I had no choice but to bring the healing potion and pour it into Damien’s side.
It was a shame, but I couldn’t kill someone else, and I couldn’t kill the Hamilcar.
I still hadn’t decided whether to marry Damien’s father or marry him and brush aside his father.
Moreover, the bandages were gone. Bandages were more urgent than potions, so this is the end of the world.
Fortunately, this was a healing potion from the first visitor’s backpack.
Just in case, I opened the window. Who knows what curse or debuff there might be, so I opened the window.
Of course, that doesn’t mean I could avoid curses or debuffs, but when using healing potions, everyone would open windows, rub their nose, or call Bamilto’s name three times—— things like that.
Even living here, I’ve become quite used to it. What’s the point of all that?
But I had to do it.
According to the Status Window, it was a healing potion, but potions were expensive and rare, so there were quite a few rumors.
The most common story was that someone sold all their possessions to buy a potion to save their dying family, only to get sap from a tree leaf.
The next most common was that it was a cursed item that transferred to another person after the patient was cured.
I don’t know about other worlds, but this world where I fell is one where you can see your nose.
I have to stay sharp, so it’s best to test uncertain items on stupid people who run around with Assassination.
“If I die, it’s my own fault.”
Damien muttered “please” in his sleep. It seemed like he was calling Pythia faintly.
Ah, what a devil. A twelve-year-old already knows how to fall for Pythia.
The end of the world, the end of the world.
Anyway, Damien’s side wound slowly began to heal and finally became clean without a scar.
Healing was done. The problem was whether there was a debuff or not.
Well, that’s something to watch.
[Healing Potion / Grade C / Made by Jean Corche]
Alchemists have fame. It’s easy for the names of people who make things to close wounds to spread.
Thinking about how alchemist work is usually passed down as family business, it’s even more so.
But ‘Corche’? I’ve never heard of it.
Jean Corche was an alchemist?
I recalled the image of the man who was my type. He looked more like a scholar than an alchemist…… He even said he was a scholar.
Unlike the 21st century Korea, in this medieval world, clothing is very important. Clothing is a marker of status, and status is identity.
It wasn’t clothing worn by alchemists.
Perhaps he wasn’t a formal alchemist.
There were quite a few people who just touched alchemy. Since they say you can turn trash into gold, those who think their head is good will want to touch it.
But most healing potions made by such people have debuffs or don’t function properly at all.
Well, the results will be clear in time.
The gopher in front of me, no, guest, no, visitor, is of a status that makes princes look away in this territory.
The wound had healed, so I removed the dirty bandages from Damien’s body, roughly wiped the wound area, and left the room.
Service for the money received is done. That’s enough.
Looking out the window, a bright full moon was hanging.
Tonight I need to think carefully until just before sleeping.
How to approach the Hamilcar side as the ‘savior of the Hamilcar Count’s son’.
I had just plugged today’s last schedule into my mental calendar when something outside the window seemed to pass.
Was a mountain animal coming?
I stood by the window and looked out, and something caught my eye.
Because it was pouring so heavily that I couldn’t see clearly, but it looked like clothing.
‘It can’t be a ghost coming from the sacred ground……’
If I didn’t believe in gods, I might have been scared thinking of the possibility of ghosts.
But I was a theist with an incredibly strong faith in this ‘Grand Hall’ where temples are scattered everywhere.
Of course. I had felt gods, heard their voices, talked to them, and even received abilities. The existence of Gerka meant the other gods existed.
How could a ghost even enter a sacred place of those gods?
So either I was mistaken, or the person who owned that clothing was alive. One of the two.
If I had to choose, I’d rather have been mistaken.
Standing blankly staring into the window on a night like this with rain pouring like buckets, it’s not a good omen.