Chapter 38: The Healing Elixir

Glen slowly raised the hand gripping the sword, lifting Lady Sophia bodily off the ground along with it.

"Let go of my mother!" Lavelle screamed, charging at Glen**,** hitting and biting him wildly.

Observing the noblewoman dangling in the air**,** yet still stubbornly clutching the sword, Glen deliberately glanced at Cheneys. The man gave a slight tremble, his lips moving silently as if pleading, "...Don't."

But Glen showed no intention of stopping.

Just as Sophia was about to lose her grip from sheer exhaustion, he gave a violent wrench. The knight's sword was ripped from her hands. Simultaneously, he slammed the sword's pommel hard into Sophia's exposed abdomen while she was still airborne.

"No!" Cheneys let out a cry of profound grief and despair.

A pained grunt escaped Sophia as she was sent flying backwards, caught by Barbour and several men-at-arms.

She was unconscious and utterly unresponsive despite Cheneys's frantic cries.

"Fetch the finest healing elixir! Now!" Cheneys roared desperately towards the distant maids.

One immediately scrambled away.

"Father! Help me!"

Another cry tore at Cheneys's frayed nerves. He remembered his son was still in the grasp of this terrifying peasant.

His gaze snapped back to Glen.

Lavelle was now dangling, held aloft by Glen's hand clamped around his throat.

"No! Please! Don't!" Cheneys, all arrogance gone, was a portrait of pure fear and abject pleading. His mind screamed: I knew it! I knew it! Those from Bayekri are monsters! Why did I let myself hope?!

The surrounding men-at-arms held their weapons and exchanged uncertain glances. None dared to act.

Lavelle felt his breath growing agonizingly thin. His face darkened to a purplish hue. The suffocating wait for death was excruciating. Just as his eyes began to roll back, Glen abruptly released his grip. Lavelle crashed to the ground, coughing and gasping violently.

Relief washed over Cheneys for a split second. He instinctively took a step forward, only to freeze at Glen's next words.

"I advise you to stay put. His life," Glen stated impassively, "is still in my hands!"

No one present doubted the absolute truth in his flat tone.

"You... what do you want? I... I admit fault! Please, I beg you, do not harm my only son!"

Cheneys had shed the dignity of his nobility, facing Glen with abject humility.

Lord Kuro, who had remained a silent observer throughout, shot Cheneys a look of pure contempt, swiftly hidden.

Cheneys didn't notice his friend's expression, nor would he have cared if he had. Outsiders couldn't fathom how difficult it had been to conceive this heir. If Lavelle died, his bloodline likely ended.

"Can you take him?" Lord Kuro murmured under his breath, a question seemingly to the air.

An ethereal voice resonated solely within his mind in response: "I cannot read him. Yet, he seems aware of my presence."

Lord Kuro's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly. Disbelief tinged his whisper. "Aware? You are the finest shadow-stalker beneath the earth! Impossible!"

"I know not what betrayed me. But his guard is subtly raised towards my position."

After hearing the mental reply, Kuro could only fall back into silence.

"I am a reasonable man," Glen stated calmly. "You brought me here, costing me a day's business. My loss requires compensation."

Hearing this, Cheneys nodded frantically. "Yes! Of course! How much?"

"Hmm..." Glen appeared to think for a moment. "Ten gold coins will suffice."

Cheneys, and everyone else who heard the figure, stared wide-eyed. You earn that much in a day?! Cheneys choked the thought down, unable to voice it. He nodded, his face twisted with impotent fury. "Agreed."

"How refreshingly decisive of a noble lord," Glen remarked, his applause slow and mocking, his smile not reaching his eyes.

Cheneys found no comfort in the words. He pleaded urgently, "Now, can you return Lavelle? One must keep their word."

Glen glanced down at the curly-haired boy trembling uncontrollably on the ground. His voice remained flat. "I never said compensation meant his release."

"You cannot do this!!" Cheneys roared, teetering on the edge of madness, eyes bloodshot. Only Barbour's restraining arm prevented him from lunging at Glen.

"Compose yourself, esteemed noble lord," Glen said, utterly unmoved by Cheneys's hysteria. "Think of the peasants you've oppressed. Their feelings then were much like yours now. Does that bring you any comfort?"

Such a son could only come from such parents.

"You!..." Cheneys trembled violently, his rage collapsing into desperate supplication. "What... what must I do for my son's freedom?"

Glen didn't answer immediately. The maid sent for the elixir had returned.

Glen watched with open curiosity as the maid carefully poured a vial of pale green liquid from a glass container into Sophia's mouth. Sophia wasn't seriously injured; Glen had merely used precise internal force to cause intense pain and knock her unconscious. He saw no need to mention this, partly to observe this so-called healing elixir.

As the last drop entered her mouth, Sophia's eyes fluttered open the very next instant. Immediate effect. Impressive. Though the extent of its healing is unclear... Glen assessed internally.

Sophia blinked in momentary confusion, glancing around. Memory flooded back. Her gaze snapped towards Glen. Seeing him still there, she shuddered violently, fear washing over her anew. Then she spotted Lavelle at Glen's feet. Fear forgotten, she let out a cry and tried to surge forward.

Cheneys managed to grab her just in time. "What are you doing? Lavelle is in danger! Save him!" Sophia writhed in his grasp.

Cheneys had no choice but to quickly explain the current, precarious situation. Only then did she cease struggling, though terror radiated from her.

"Please! I beg you! Release my son! What do you want? Anything! I'll give you anything!" Sophia, too, discarded her noble bearing, pleading desperately with Glen.

Nearby maids wiped away tears, caught up in the tense atmosphere, perhaps feeling a sliver of genuine concern for their masters.

Only Lord Kuro remained impassive, his silent gaze upon the Cheneys family growing increasingly scornful.

"That healing elixir you just used," Glen pointed casually at the empty vial. "Give me a hundred bottles."

A collective stumble ran through the onlookers. They nearly fell over. A hundred bottles?! Lord Kuro screamed internally. Does he plan to drink it for breakfast?!

"I... I only have five!" Cheneys stammered, his face the picture of misery, his tone utterly sincere. "It took my father's collection and my own efforts over decades to gather them! We used one just now... only four remain! A hundred is impossible!"

Glen studied his face intently, confirming the truthfulness. He then waved dismissively. "Fine. Four will do."

Cheneys opened his mouth, then closed it. He turned to a nearby maid. "Go. Bring all the remaining healing elixirs."

The maid wiped her tears, shot Glen a furious glare, and turned away once more.

Clean Version (ready to use):

Chapter 38: The Healing Elixir

Glen slowly raised the hand gripping the sword, lifting Lady Sophia bodily off the ground along with it.

"Let go of my mother!" Lavelle screamed, charging at Glen, hitting and biting him wildly.

Observing the noblewoman dangling in the air, yet still stubbornly clutching the sword, Glen deliberately glanced at Cheneys. The man gave a slight tremble, his lips moving silently as if pleading, "...Don't."

But Glen showed no intention of stopping.

Just as Sophia was about to lose her grip from sheer exhaustion, he gave a violent wrench. The knight's sword was ripped from her hands. Simultaneously, he slammed the sword's pommel hard into Sophia's exposed abdomen while she was still airborne.

"No!" Cheneys let out a cry of profound grief and despair.

A pained grunt escaped Sophia as she was sent flying backwards, caught by Barbour and several men-at-arms.

She was unconscious and utterly unresponsive despite Cheneys's frantic cries.

"Fetch the finest healing elixir! Now!" Cheneys roared desperately towards the distant maids.

One immediately scrambled away.

"Father! Help me!"

Another cry tore at Cheneys's frayed nerves. He remembered his son was still in the grasp of this terrifying peasant.

His gaze snapped back to Glen.

Lavelle was now dangling, held aloft by Glen's hand clamped around his throat.

"No! Please! Don't!" Cheneys, all arrogance gone, was a portrait of pure fear and abject pleading. His mind screamed: I knew it! I knew it! Those from Bayekri are monsters! Why did I let myself hope?!

The surrounding men-at-arms held their weapons and exchanged uncertain glances. None dared to act.

Lavelle felt his breath growing agonizingly thin. His face darkened to a purplish hue. The suffocating wait for death was excruciating. Just as his eyes began to roll back, Glen abruptly released his grip. Lavelle crashed to the ground, coughing and gasping violently.

Relief washed over Cheneys for a split second. He instinctively took a step forward, only to freeze at Glen's next words.

"I advise you to stay put. His life," Glen stated impassively, "is still in my hands!"

No one present doubted the absolute truth in his flat tone.

"You... what do you want? I... I admit fault! Please, I beg you, do not harm my only son!"

Cheneys had shed the dignity of his nobility, facing Glen with abject humility.

Lord Kuro, who had remained a silent observer throughout, shot Cheneys a look of pure contempt, swiftly hidden.

Cheneys didn't notice his friend's expression, nor would he have cared if he had. Outsiders couldn't fathom how difficult it had been to conceive this heir. If Lavelle died, his bloodline likely ended.

"Can you take him?" Lord Kuro murmured under his breath, a question seemingly to the air.

An ethereal voice resonated solely within his mind in response: "I cannot read him. Yet, he seems aware of my presence."

Lord Kuro's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly. Disbelief tinged his whisper. "Aware? You are the finest shadow-stalker beneath the earth! Impossible!"

"I know not what betrayed me. But his guard is subtly raised towards my position."

After hearing the mental reply, Kuro could only fall back into silence.

"I am a reasonable man," Glen stated calmly. "You brought me here, costing me a day's business. My loss requires compensation."

Hearing this, Cheneys nodded frantically. "Yes! Of course! How much?"

"Hmm..." Glen appeared to think for a moment. "Ten gold coins will suffice."

Cheneys, and everyone else who heard the figure, stared wide-eyed. You earn that much in a day?! Cheneys choked the thought down, unable to voice it. He nodded, his face twisted with impotent fury. "Agreed."

"How refreshingly decisive of a noble lord," Glen remarked, his applause slow and mocking, his smile not reaching his eyes.

Cheneys found no comfort in the words. He pleaded urgently, "Now, can you return Lavelle? One must keep their word."

Glen glanced down at the curly-haired boy trembling uncontrollably on the ground. His voice remained flat. "I never said compensation meant his release."

"You cannot do this!!" Cheneys roared, teetering on the edge of madness, eyes bloodshot. Only Barbour's restraining arm prevented him from lunging at Glen.

"Compose yourself, esteemed noble lord," Glen said, utterly unmoved by Cheneys's hysteria. "Think of the peasants you've oppressed. Their feelings then were much like yours now. Does that bring you any comfort?"

Such a son could only come from such parents.

"You!..." Cheneys trembled violently, his rage collapsing into desperate supplication. "What... what must I do for my son's freedom?"

Glen didn't answer immediately. The maid sent for the elixir had returned.

Glen watched with open curiosity as the maid carefully poured a vial of pale green liquid from a glass container into Sophia's mouth. Sophia wasn't seriously injured; Glen had merely used precise internal force to cause intense pain and knock her unconscious. He saw no need to mention this, partly to observe this so-called healing elixir.

As the last drop entered her mouth, Sophia's eyes fluttered open the very next instant. Immediate effect. Impressive. Though the extent of its healing is unclear... Glen assessed internally.

Sophia blinked in momentary confusion, glancing around. Memory flooded back. Her gaze snapped towards Glen. Seeing him still there, she shuddered violently, fear washing over her anew. Then she spotted Lavelle at Glen's feet. Fear forgotten, she let out a cry and tried to surge forward.

Cheneys managed to grab her just in time. "What are you doing? Lavelle is in danger! Save him!" Sophia writhed in his grasp.

Cheneys had no choice but to quickly explain the current, precarious situation. Only then did she cease struggling, though terror radiated from her.

"Please! I beg you! Release my son! What do you want? Anything! I'll give you anything!" Sophia, too, discarded her noble bearing, pleading desperately with Glen.

Nearby maids wiped away tears, caught up in the tense atmosphere, perhaps feeling a sliver of genuine concern for their masters.

Only Lord Kuro remained impassive, his silent gaze upon the Cheneys family growing increasingly scornful.

"That healing elixir you just used," Glen pointed casually at the empty vial. "Give me a hundred bottles."

A collective stumble ran through the onlookers. They nearly fell over. A hundred bottles?! Lord Kuro screamed internally. Does he plan to drink it for breakfast?!

"I... I only have five!" Cheneys stammered, his face the picture of misery, his tone utterly sincere. "It took my father's collection and my own efforts over decades to gather them! We used one just now... only four remain! A hundred is impossible!"

Glen studied his face intently, confirming the truthfulness. He then waved dismissively. "Fine. Four will do."

Cheneys opened his mouth, then closed it. He turned to a nearby maid. "Go. Bring all the remaining healing elixirs."

The maid wiped her tears, shot Glen a furious glare, and turned away once more.