On the outskirts of Arlecia, a lone horse raced through the relentless rain. Aiden's face was lined with exhaustion, weariness etched into his features after the grueling journey. Clark was strapped securely to his body, and with every pounding hoofbeat, Aiden could feel the faint, weakening thrum of Clark's heartbeat. It was slowing, dangerously close to fading altogether.
Just a bit longer, Aiden urged silently, desperation clawing at his chest.
He leaned forward, spurring his horse on even faster. The rain lashed against him, soaking them both to the bone, but Aiden paid it no mind. Every second mattered now; he had to reach Arlecia Castle before it was too late.
"Hold on," Aiden said aloud, though Clark, locked in his comatose state, could not hear him. Even so, Aiden's voice cracked with the weight of his fear. He couldn't bear to fail—not when he was so close.
Aiden adjusted his hold on Clark, shielding his body as best he could from the jolts of the galloping horse. His heart pounded as the castle came into view through the sheets of rain. Gritting his teeth, he pressed onward, ignoring the aching fatigue in his limbs and the stinging cold that bit at his skin.
Finally, he reached the castle gates. The knights stationed there immediately recognized him and rushed to open the gates, their eyes widening at the sight of the drenched and frantic knight. Aiden didn't slow until he reached the main castle entrance, where he pulled his horse to a sudden stop.
Swinging down, he cradled Clark's limp form in his arms, his voice urgent as he shouted to the nearest guards, "Inform the lord immediately—I've arrived!"
Clark's body lay lifeless in Aiden's arms, but his shallow breaths were still detectable. Servants hurried over, bringing warm towels, but as they approached, they recoiled from the horrific stench emanating from Clark.
The odor was thick and pungent, like decay itself—a smell no one could ignore. Seeing their reactions, Aiden clenched his jaw and instructed, "Just throw me the towels."
The servants complied, tossing the towels to Aiden, who worked quickly to dry Clark as best as he could, though the foul odor lingered.
It was Royfield who arrived first, his usual composure breaking as his eyes widened in shock at the sight before him. He had never seen anything like this—Clark's skin marred with dark, spreading marks and the stench of death clinging to him. Though he had heard rumors of the Black Death disease, witnessing its effects firsthand was another matter entirely.
Aiden, still drenched and desperate, turned to Royfield. "Head butler, please inform Lord Arlecia immediately. I've brought Miss Claire's brother, but his condition is deteriorating fast."
Royfield nodded, the urgency clear in his expression. Without a moment's hesitation, he turned and rushed toward the lord's office.
-----------
In the office, Seth sat by the window, his gaze lost in the rain as it tapped rhythmically against the glass. Across the room, Claire was hunched over her desk, focused on her estate paperwork, her brow furrowed in concentration.
The door burst open without warning, startling Claire. Royfield entered, his face pale with worry. "My lord," he said, his voice tight with concern, "Sir Aiden has arrived at the castle—with Miss Claire's brother."
Claire's head shot up, her eyes widening. "My brother—he's here?" she said, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and anxiety.
Royfield nodded, but the grim look on his face made Claire's heart drop. Fear crept into her expression, and she asked, her voice wavering, "What's wrong? Did something happen on their way here?"
Before Royfield could answer, Seth rose from his chair, his movements swift. His voice was cold. "Lead the way, Royfield."
Royfield inclined his head, turning to guide the lord. Claire's heart raced, and the chill in Seth's tone made her uneasy. She quickly followed, her mind spinning with worry and anticipation as they hurried to the main hall.
-----------
Seth arrived in the main hall, with Royfield and Claire close behind. Claire's eyes widened in shock, and she immediately rushed to her brother's side, her heart pounding with fear and desperation. Her voice trembled, tinged with anger and disbelief, as she demanded of Aiden, "What happened? Why is my brother drenched like this?"
Her hands shook as she grabbed a towel from Aiden, quickly trying to dry Clark's body. The dark marks had spread completely over Clark's skin, and the foul stench of decay clung to him like a death shroud. Tears streamed down Claire's face, but she forced herself to push through the nauseating odor, desperately tending to her brother.
"What happened?" she asked again, her voice breaking as panic overwhelmed her. "Why my brother like this? Didn't you come with a carriage?"
Aiden could have explained, but he remained silent, guilt weighing heavily on him. It had been his decision to ride through the rain, risking Clark's condition in hopes of saving him faster as Clark's condition worsened. If Clark succumbed to his illness now, Aiden would bear the blame.
Claire's eyes filled with disbelief as she turned to Aiden, searching for answers, but he simply looked back at her, sadness etched into his features, unable to speak.
Seth observed the scene from a distance, his gaze fixed on Clark's broken body. Even through his blindfold, he could see the miasma swirling around Clark, thick and dark, a clear sign that the Black Death had consumed nearly all of his life force.
"The state of his body…" Seth murmured to himself. "Clark is on the brink of death. The Black Death has crippled his ability to heal himself, and his mana circuits are almost completely devoured."
The sight reminded Seth of something from his past life: mages whose overuse of mana led to a state of necrosis, where their bodies rotted from the inside out as their mana reserves were drained. It was a slow, agonizing death.
Suddenly, Clark's body convulsed, and black blood spilled from his mouth, his body wracked with violent coughs. Claire's panic flared, and she cradled Clark's head against her chest, her voice breaking as she pleaded, "Clark… hold on. I'm here, I'm right here."
Tears blurred her vision as she turned her desperate gaze toward Seth, who still stood apart from them. "My lord," she begged, her voice raw with desperation, "please… please help my brother. You promised. You said you could save him."
Claire's tearful plea echoed in the hall, and both Royfield and Aiden turned their eyes to Lord Arlecia, their faces filled with hope and worry. But Seth's response came cold and steady, shattering the fragile sense of hope.
"I can't save him," he said.
Claire's face fell, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What… what do you mean, my lord?"
Seth's voice remained composed but firm. "I can't save him in this state," he explained. "The Black Death has spread through his entire body. It's feeding on the last remnants of his life force."
He paused, his words slicing through Claire's heart. "What's left of your brother… is little more than a living corpse."
Claire's breath caught in her throat, and her voice grew quiet and cold. "How dare you…?" she whispered. "My brother is not a corpse. He's still alive. He's… he's still here."
Her gaze fell to Clark's face, now so disfigured and darkened that he was almost unrecognizable. Her tears dripped onto his cheeks, and she clung to the hope that he was still with her. "You're still alive, Clark," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You're still here."
Aiden, too, felt a surge of disappointment and anger. The lord's cold demeanor made it seem as though he had reverted to his old ways.
But then Seth's voice softened, and there was a genuine note in his tone. "I can't save him with the method I had originally planned," he admitted. "The Black Death feeds on mana. The disease only affects those born with high mana sensitivity."
He looked at Claire, his expression grave. "Your brother was born with a rare gift, and that gift is killing him."
Claire listened, but her mind struggled to grasp the meaning behind his words. Seth's thoughts were conflicted. If he allowed Clark to die, the events of the original novel would likely play out. Claire would rise as the matriarch of House Robert, fulfilling her destiny. But if he chose to save Clark, the future would change in unpredictable ways.
Clark had the potential to bring in a new age of magic once again to this world. Saving Clark would mean tying Claire's loyalty to him forever, a heavy price indeed.
Seth took a step forward, his voice steady. "Claire, if I could completely cure your brother… what price would you be willing to pay in exchange?"
Claire's eyes widened, her breath catching. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Seth's tone grew more serious. "The cure will come at a great cost—something that will take a part of me. Are you willing to accept that price?"
Royfield and Aiden were equally stunned. The idea that curing Clark would cost Seth something of himself was beyond anything they had expected. Royfield started to speak, concern etched across his face. "My lord, please reconsider. This—"
Seth cut him off, his voice resolute. "This is my decision, Royfield."
Royfield fell silent, bowing his head in reluctant acceptance, though worry clouded his features. Seth stepped closer to Claire, extending his hand. "What is your answer, Claire?" he asked, his voice softer, yet filled with an underlying intensity.
Claire's hands shook as she looked at Seth, torn between the desire to save her brother and the fear of what such a price might mean for the lord.