The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 71: “Ugh… my stomach!”

After the meal, Alaric busied himself with routine matters, observing the surroundings, speaking with the knights to receive their reports, then returning to his tent, only to repeat the cycle again.

Everything appeared to be proceeding smoothly, yet no matter how diligently he occupied his time, an unsettling unease lingered in his chest. He could not explain it, nor could he shake it off.

And the truth was, he was not the only one burdened by that feeling.

Cael carried his own share of worry, too.

Restlessness gnawed at him, and in an attempt to distract himself, he sought out Soren. He had intended nothing serious, just light conversation to pass the time, but the moment he saw the healer’s weary eyes, he stopped himself.

Soren looked exhausted, the kind of tiredness that settled deep into the bones.

Though Soren never voiced a complaint, it was obvious enough so Cael just kept their exchange brief, a few words at most, before leaving him to rest and turning instead to Lyric for conversation.

The two had barely settled into their discussion when a knight approached, his expression tense and hurried. He then leaned in and delivered the news in a hushed voice, speaking only to Cael and Lyric.

It took just a single word for everything to unravel.

Poisoned.

The rumor spread through the tents like wildfire.

Whispers passed from one group to another, growing louder, more distorted with every retelling.

By the time night fully settled over the encampment, the tension had become unbearable that no one could sleep, even if they tried.

Least of all Soren.

The moment the word reached his ears, any hope of rest vanished.

His body refused to relax, his thoughts racing despite the exhaustion weighing him down. Knowing that someone might need his abilities was enough to keep him awake, even though there were other healers present.

For Soren, that knowledge alone was reason enough to remain alert, waiting, listening and bracing himself for whatever might come next.

Inside Alaric’s tent, he lay pale and unmoving as Lyric took the initiative while carefully wiping away the blood that Alaric had been coughing up. His hands moved with controlled urgency and refusing to let panic take hold even as his chest twisted painfully at the sight.

Moments later, the tent flap was pulled open and the healers were ushered inside on Cael’s orders.

Among them was Soren, though he did not take charge of the treatment. He remained close, standing by in tense silence in case the situation worsened.

If anything went wrong, Caelius would be enough to handle it, but Soren could not bring himself to leave not when someone’s life was at stake.

Gwen and Gideon’s captain were present as well, the atmosphere inside the tent heavy with restrained anxiety and sharp focus.

After the initial chaos settled and the poison was successfully neutralized, it became clear that this was no beast’s curse blood, but a literal, deliberate poisoning. Alaric was given time to rest, and after nearly an hour, his eyes finally opened.

The first thing that returned was not relief, but fury.

Despite his weakened state, Alaric’s anger burned fiercely as he ordered his closest elite knights to begin an immediate investigation.

There was no hesitation in his voice, no softness in his command.

"What a foolish move," Alaric scoffed bitterly. "If they truly wanted to sabotage this mission, they should have gone after the healers, not me. So, why do you think they did this, Your Highness? Haa, I really can’t understand such idiots."

Cael listened closely as he spoke, arms crossed with expression dark with thought while Lyric just stood nearby, his worry easing only slightly now that his brother was awake and out of danger.

Even so, his mind refused to rest. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t even dared to close his eyes as his thoughts clinging stubbornly to Alaric’s condition.

He couldn’t afford to lose someone close to him,

Again.

He didn’t want to repeat that reality.

"Well," Cael began, letting out a slow breath, "haven’t you noticed something even stranger than the eerie silence around us?" He glanced around the tent as if the answer might be hanging in the air. "There haven’t been any beasts at all. Not a single one, despite us pushing forward and continuing the purification. And as for why someone would go as far as poisoning you..." He shook his head and sighed. "I don’t have an answer for that either."

Alaric scoffed with irritation flashing across his face. "Do you think those idiots were merely trying to distract us, Your Highness? Hah. I can’t even imagine for what purpose. And of all people, why did they choose to poison me?"

Cael raised a brow. "Are you saying they should have chosen me instead?" he replied dryly. "Honestly, I wouldn’t completely disagree. We have healers on hand, after all. We could’ve managed." He then grew more serious, his tone sharpening. "That’s exactly why I think this has another motive. Something we’re not seeing yet. Let’s just wait for the investigation to finish."

He waved a hand dismissively. "Let me and this brat handle it."

Lyric immediately pouted at the remark while shooting Cael an indignant look and Cael merely glanced back at him, a teasing glint in his eyes that didn’t quite hide the tension beneath.

"You," Cael continued, turning back to Alaric, "need to rest. We resume tomorrow morning, and I want you fully recovered by then."

The tent fell into silence once more, heavy and strained. Though Alaric was alive and the immediate danger had passed, none of them felt at ease.

Because it was painfully clear to all of them now.

This poisoning was not an isolated incident.

It was only the beginning of something far more dangerous.

When morning finally came, Soren had barely slept at all.

Between what had happened to the Duke and the lingering unease that refused to leave his chest, rest never truly claimed him.

At best, he drifted in and out of shallow sleep, never allowing himself to fully relax. Every faint rustle of fabric and every distant footstep or muted voice was enough to pull him awake at once, making his senses immediately on edge.

He remained alert through the night, half-expecting something to go wrong at any moment. Even in exhaustion, his instincts as a healer would not allow him peace.

And so, when dawn arrived, Soren was already awake being tired, tense, and quietly bracing himself for whatever the day might bring.

Unbeknownst to them, while everyone’s attention remained fixed on Alaric’s poisoning, the true culprits were already setting their trap.

Blending seamlessly among the ranks, they moved quietly through the camp, indistinguishable from the other knights. Their expressions were carefully controlled and their reactions was practiced and professional, giving nothing away.

To anyone else, they appeared loyal, disciplined, and entirely unremarkable.

Because of that, they had yet to be exposed by Alaric’s people.

Only Caelius felt it.

There was something off about a few of them, something that pricked at his instincts every time his gaze lingered too long. As someone who was quite knowledgeable with such antics, Caelius realized that their presence carried a subtle wrongness with a faint disturbance he couldn’t quite put into words.

Yet suspicion alone was not enough.

Without evidence, he could do nothing but watch, memorize faces, and wait.

And as the trap continued to take shape in the shadows, the unit marched on while fully unaware that danger was already walking beside them.

And it did not end there.

The carriage had already been tampered with, its structure subtly altered in ways that would only reveal themselves once it was put under strain.

Even the horses were not spared since something had been deliberately applied to their hooves, a slow-acting irritant that would cause pain the longer they traveled, making the animals restless, agitated, and increasingly difficult to control.

Worse still, the drinking water prepared for the knights had been poisoned.

Not enough to kill, no, that would have been far too obvious.

The toxin was meant to only induce stomach pain, dizziness, and nausea, symptoms that would weaken the body and cloud the mind. Enough to disrupt coordination, dull reflexes, and fracture focus.

Enough to sabotage the mission from within.

All of it was carefully planned.

Soren, unaware of any of this, stayed close to Caelius while following him as he always did. Irlian and Gwen moved alongside Gaspar, while Cael remained with Lyric and Alaric, keeping watch as the unit prepared to move once more.

On the surface, everything appeared normal again. Orders were followed, formations held, and the camp moved with the practiced efficiency of seasoned knights.

No one noticed the misfortune already woven into every step they were about to take.

To most, it seemed the culprits’ goal was simple. To fracture teamwork and ensure the mission’s failure.

But that was only the illusion.

Because hidden beneath every careful act of sabotage, beneath every calculated move, there was a far more deliberate intention.

Their true target had never been the mission.

It was Soren himself.

"Blegh! Argh!" The sudden retching shattered the calm atmosphere as one of the knights vomited while still mounted on his horse.

"Ugh... my stomach!"

"Argh!"

Another voice, then another.

Groans spread through the unit, sharp and panicked with their bodies beginning to falter as pain twisted inside them.

It was starting.