The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 48: “I m-must go back…

At a long wooden table inside the barracks’ dining tent, Kent, Louie, and Justin sat stiffly with their meals barely touched. The usual noise that filled their leisure hours was noticeably absent.

Instead, an uncomfortable silence hung over them, broken only by the faint clink of utensils and the muted hum of other knights nearby.

Every few seconds, one of them would sneak a glance toward Soren and Caelius sitting side by side. Then, just as quickly, they’d snap their eyes back to their food as if they’d been caught staring at a wound they weren’t supposed to examine.

Soren, at least, looked normal enough.

He ate quietly while still wearing the usual poker face he has, ignoring the tension around him while sneaking a glance to the noble who decided to eat with them.

Kent stabbed his food a little too hard while Louie chewed far longer than necessary. Justin, on the other hand, nodded to absolutely nothing while staring at his bowl like it might start talking back.

This tent was meant for rest and where knights lounged, joked, and unwound after drills. But ever since Caelius had appeared earlier, casually stating that he was looking for Soren, the entire mood had been awkward.

No one knew whether to talk or whisper.

Or apologize for existing.

The knights sat there, stiff-backed and painfully aware while pretending to eat while silently wondering how a simple lunch break had turned into the most uncomfortable shift they’d ever had.

"Is the food... alright, my lord?" Kent asked, his voice coming out a touch too formal as he glanced sideways at Louie, as if silently begging him to take over.

"R-right," Louie quickly added, nodding a bit too eagerly. "The meals here are usually cooked with our palate in mind, so we were worried it might be too bland for your taste, my lord." His words tumbled out in an awkward rush, followed by a tight, nervous smile.

Justin let out a soft, strained chuckle while trying to lighten the mood. "That’s right. I mean, it’s nothing special," he said, before pausing, then continuing as if realizing he hadn’t said enough. "So, um... may we ask why you decided to eat with us today, my lord?"

As he spoke, both Kent and Louie instinctively turned their gazes toward Soren, then back to Caelius, as if silently checking whether they had just crossed some invisible line.

The moment stretched uncomfortably, their smiles frozen in place with their hands hovering awkwardly over their utensils, waiting for an answer that might either reassure them or make the situation even worse.

"Oh," Caelius said mildly, brows lifting just a fraction. "Did I make you all uncomfortable?"

The three of them froze.

Kent, Louie, and Justin exchanged quick, alarmed looks with the realization dawning far too late. Almost immediately, panic set in. In perfect, unplanned unison, they flailed their hands in front of them and shook their heads far too vigorously.

"Oh, no! Not at all, my lord," Kent blurted out, forcing out a laugh that sounded a bit too loud for the tent. "Haha... not like that at all."

"R-right," Louie chimed in at once, nodding so hard his chair creaked. "We’re not uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable at all."

"Yes, my lord," Justin added quickly, straightening his posture as if that might help. "It’s just, well, it was a little sudden, that’s all. Nothing strange. Perfectly normal. Very normal."

The silence that followed was thick and unforgiving.

All three of them kept their smiles fixed with their hands slowly lowering back to the table, each painfully aware that their frantic denial had probably made things worse rather than better.

With each sentence spoken, Caelius’s gaze drifted briefly to Soren, who continued eating as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Unbothered and composed, Soren soon cleared his bowl, then reached for the plain goblet set between them and drank the water inside in a few steady swallows.

After setting it down, he rose from his seat and gave a polite bow.

"Well, it was good to have lunch with you again, good sirs," Soren said calmly. "Please don’t mind me and do continue. I shall take my leave."

As if on cue, Caelius stood as well despite having barely touched his own portion. Without another word, the two of them turned and walked away together.

Left behind, Kent, Louie, and Justin could only stare.

They exchanged slow, questioning looks with brows knitting together before their attention drifted back to the retreating figures. Justin leaned back in his chair, stretching his neck as he continued to follow Soren and Caelius with his eyes until they were nearly out of sight.

"...Wow," he muttered. "Soren’s a bit special, don’t you think?"

"Right?" Kent replied, doing the same, craning his neck. "First he caught His Highness’s attention, then the young Lord Davenmore, and now even the young lord of House Rennovar."

Louie hummed thoughtfully, still staring after them. "Well... Lord Rennovar is a healer too, so I suppose it’s to be expected."

"Yes, yes," Justin said, frowning slightly. "But from what I’ve heard, Lord Rennovar’s a man of very few words. So how did Soren get him talking like that?"

Kent nodded. "Exactly. That’s not like him at all. I also heard Lord Rennovar’s been keeping his distance from the other noble healers who came with him."

Louie finally tore his gaze away, blinking as if realizing they’d been staring far too long. "Wait... what were their names again?"

The question lingered, unanswered, as the empty space where Soren and Caelius had been seated felt oddly louder than before.

Meanwhile, as Soren and Caelius made their way toward the healer’s camp, the noise of the barracks slowly faded behind them. After a few steps, Soren abruptly stopped.

Caelius noticed at once and halted as well and the sudden mirroring only made Soren frown. He turned, lifting his gaze to meet Caelius’s eyes directly.

"My lord..." Soren began, his voice careful.

"Yes?" Caelius replied.

"Do you have something to say to me?"

For a brief moment, Caelius pressed his lips together, as though weighing his words. The pause stretched just long enough to feel deliberate.

"You’ve been looking for me since this morning," Soren continued quietly, breaking the silence. "So..."

"Hm," Caelius hummed, eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "Nothing really. I ju—" but he didn’t get to finish when a sudden voice cut in.

Lyric appeared out of nowhere, striding toward them with unmistakable urgency, effectively shattering the fragile moment before it could settle into anything more.

"Hey, you. Come with me."

"My l-lord?" Soren startled, instinctively stiffening. "Oh, but—"

"Shut up and just come with me," Lyric cut in.

His tone wasn’t angry, but it was loud enough to draw attention. Without waiting, he reached out and firmly grabbed Soren’s right wrist.

Caelius froze with confusion flickering across his face as he watched the sudden movement.

’Just yesterday, it was the other one who grabbed Soren... and now this?’

His gaze followed Lyric upward, tracing from the tight grip on Soren’s wrist to Lyric’s face. After a brief pause, Caelius inclined his head and bowed.

"Greetings, my lord."

"Yeah, well," Lyric replied curtly, barely sparing Caelius a glance. "Let me just borrow him for a while."

Only then did he look back at Caelius, his grip on Soren unrelenting. "Then, we’ll take our leave."

With that, Lyric tugged Soren forward, already turning as if the matter were settled, leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions and a healer caught between obedience and unease.

Meanwhile, back in Alaric’s tent, Cael sat at the head of the table with Sylas and Gaspar beside him, serving as vice captain of the Davenmore knights.

Captain Theron also stood nearby as well who was temporarily assigned to serve under the young prince during his station in the North. Though he acted under the Emperor’s direct order, for now, his loyalty and command fell squarely under Cael.

Spread across the table were detailed reports on the recent subjugation mission, alongside notes highlighting the peculiar and increasingly erratic movements of the beasts.

"So," Cael said at last, his gaze fixed on the documents Alaric was reviewing, "we did have casualties this time."

"Yes, Your Highness," Alaric replied, shaking his head as he lowered the papers. "Eight imperial knights... and three of my men." His expression tightened before his eyes shifted toward Sylas. "Where’s Lyric, anyway? How is he doing?"

Sylas let out a short breath. "He hurried out earlier. Said he was looking for the commoner."

Alaric frowned immediately at that.

Cael, on the other hand, merely lifted his eyes to Sylas, his unreadable expression, too calm and neutral to betray any clear emotion.

Across the table, Vice-Captain Gaspar and Captain Theron remained silent, exchanging no words as the weight of the room settled, heavy with both loss and unspoken questions.

Elsewhere, not far from the encampment, the cave that served as the beasts’ lair concealed a strange, liquid-like substance like one that moved as if alive.

It clung to the beasts like parasitic water, driving them into uncontrollable frenzy.

The beasts were about to stampede.

On the other hand, the ground shook as a lone scout ran back toward the camp, panting while feeling terrified as his friends were already dead.

Behind him, a hound-like beast chased him with its teeth bared and saliva dripping. From the cave, more creatures watched as their eyes glowed red. Some slithered like snakes, others were huge and jagged like rocks, all moving faster and more aggressively than anything the scout had ever seen.

"Grrr..."

"Psshh..."

"Cawgrr..."

"Chirr... chirr..."

The scout tripped over a root buried in the snow but scrambled back to his feet, heart racing. The cave erupted with movement as the beasts charged out in a chaotic wave, leaving tracks in the fresh, powdery snow.

Snowflakes also swirled around them, kicked up by the thrashing creatures, and the valley filled with the sounds of screeching, snapping, and growling.

He ran blindly through the icy terrain, teeth and claws snapping just behind him.

Every breath came out in white clouds, and the cold bit at his skin but there was no time to slow down. The camp needed to be warned or no one would survive.

"I m-must go back... I have t-to inform them..."