The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 96: “He was our extra income, after all.”

After organizing the few things that didn’t originally belong to him, Soren slowly lifted his head and let his gaze wander around the interior of the tent one last time. The space was modest and at the same time luxurious with its every corner holding some memories he could no longer ignore.

Then, his eyes lingered on the bed as the place where he had spent countless nights awake while staring into the dark, replaying every decision that had led him to the North.

With regret settled heavily in his chest.

Whatever suffering he had endured, whatever humiliation and pain he had swallowed, he knew it all traced back to him.

No one really had forced him to stay.

No one had asked him to hope.

In the end, the fault was his alone, and there was no one else left to blame.

He then adjusted his black fur robe while smoothing the fabric as if steadying himself, then took slow steps toward the bed. When he reached it, he hesitated as his fingers brushed the edge of the mattress, lingering there as his eyes drifted back across the tent.

Thinking about it, it wasn’t merely a bed.

It had been his refuge during the loneliest moments, the one place where silence did not feel hostile.

Here, he had allowed himself to rest, breathe and to imagine a future that wasn’t filled with fear or obedience. It was where he had dared to daydream quietly and foolishly about a life where things might have turned out differently.

Realizing that it never happened, Soren let his hand remain there for a few seconds longer while committing the feeling to memory before finally withdrawing it. Some comforts, he realized, were never meant to be taken with you.

"A life back in the slums... might be better, yes," he murmured with voice barely louder than a breath.

A moment after, Soren tilted his head back while staring at the dim ceiling of the tent as if it might give him an answer. His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard while forcing the ache down, refusing to let the tears spill.

He had never been the type to cry openly, not where anyone could see because tears felt like another kind of weakness he couldn’t afford.

Yet this pain was different.

It wasn’t born from hunger or cold or fear, things he had long learned how to endure. It came from remembering how hard he had worked in the North, how much he had given and how often he had bent himself into something smaller just to fit.

Yet despite all of it, everything had still ended the wrong way and that realization hurt more than he wanted to admit.

He couldn’t even tell anymore if his efforts had mattered. Had he helped them enough? Had he ever truly been useful or had he simply convinced himself that he was doing something meaningful while clinging to the illusion of purpose?

All he knew was that he had done his best.

And yet, no matter how long he stayed and endured, he was never able to step fully inside their world. He remained an outsider, close enough to serve and used, but never close enough to belong.

That thought settled quietly in his chest, heavily.

Perhaps returning to the slums wouldn’t be a step backward after all.

Perhaps it was simply going back to the only place that had never pretended to accept him.

"Are you sure you won’t say your goodbyes to them?" Elias asked softly as he reached out, stretching his hand toward the small bundle Soren was carrying.

At the sound of his voice, Soren’s shoulders stiffened for a brief second. Then he slowly shook his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak, afraid that if he did, something inside him would finally give way. Without looking up, he loosened his grip and allowed Elias to take his things from him.

"I don’t even know what to say..." Soren muttered at last.

His feet felt rooted to the ground, as though moving forward would make everything real. He stared down at the dirt beneath them while watching the way his shadow trembled slightly, betraying the emotions he was trying so hard to contain.

And Elias noticed.

With a quiet sigh, he stepped closer while closing the distance without asking permission. Then he wrapped his arms around Soren gently and began patting his back in slow in a reassuring motion.

"It’s alright," Elias murmured. "It’s alright."

Soren didn’t respond, but he didn’t pull away either.

"We can go back to the way things were before," Elias continued as if he were stitching something torn back together. "The slums aren’t that bad, right? We survived there once and we can do it again."

He pulled back just enough to look at Soren’s face while searching for any sign that he was being heard.

"Or... if you want to go somewhere else, we can," Elias added gently. "Anywhere you want. You don’t have to decide now." His hand rested reassuringly on Soren’s shoulder. "You know I’m always here. I’ll stay with you. I can always accompany you, okay?"

With a small pause followed, it filled only by the wind passing through the camp.

"Just say the word," Elias said quietly.

And for the first time since deciding to leave, Soren didn’t feel completely alone.

Elias really was dependable and Soren had always known that, even when he tried to deny it. There was something steady about him, something that never wavered no matter how harsh their circumstances became.

Elias didn’t need to be asked, didn’t need explanations.

He simply stayed.

Whenever Soren wasn’t feeling right, Elias was the first to notice and without making it obvious or embarrassing, he would quietly fall into step beside him while offering presence instead of questions.

He never pushed and ever demanded answers.

From the moment they had been together, Elias had accompanied Soren through every low point such as through exhaustion, disappointment, and moments when Soren felt like giving up altogether. Even when Soren himself couldn’t understand what he was feeling, Elias remained there, patient and unshaken.

And for that, Soren was deeply grateful.

Not in loud words or grand gestures, but in the way his shoulders eased when Elias was near, in the way he allowed himself to lean just a little closer.

In a world where belonging felt like a privilege he was never allowed to have, Elias was the one constant that never made him feel like he had to earn his place.

After making sure that Soren hadn’t left anything behind—nothing he could still call his—they finally stepped out of the tent.

Waiting for them was a small group gathered just beyond the entrance.

Alia stood at the front, her hands clasped tightly together, with Caelius beside her, his expression unreadable but heavy. Melissa and Hector were there as well, along with Bella and Becky, Kent, Justin, and Louie—faces Soren had grown used to seeing, faces that had once made this place feel almost like home.

All of them were people who had grown emotionally close to him, whether they realized it or not.

"So... you’re really leaving?" Melissa asked with her brows drawn together in worry while holding Hector’s hands while Alia stood quietly beside her, saying nothing, yet her eyes were fixed on Soren as if she were trying to memorize him.

"Where do you plan to go after returning to the capital?" Caelius followed up as though afraid of pushing too far.

Soren opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wanted to say something yet he thought that he hadn’t planned that far ahead.

Before he could respond, Kent stepped forward and for a moment it looked like he might hesitate to say something but he continued anyway.

"Soren, I won’t ask you to stay," Kent said with low voice and sincere. "I know I don’t really have the right to, especially after how I treated you before." He clenched his fists at his sides. "But... for your own sake, please be careful and always look after yourself."

The guilt in his eyes was unmistakable. Even though they had already made amends, the weight of his past behavior still clung to him, refusing to let go.

"That’s right," Justin chimed in quickly while stepping closer. "Please don’t get sick, okay? And make sure you eat on time. You’re already so skinny."

"And don’t forget to sleep more," Louie added while frowning as he pointed at Soren’s face. "Look at those eyebags. You look like you haven’t rested properly in ages."

Bella and Becky nodded in agreement while murmuring soft affirmations along with their plain and unfiltered concern.

Surrounded by their words and complaints mixed with advice as well as worry wrapped in familiarity, Soren felt his chest tighten again since he could only nod in response, unsure how to properly answer feelings this sincere.

Then his gaze drifted toward Elias.

Elias met his eyes and gave a small, reassuring nod, as if to say ’it’s okay, you don’t have to carry this alone.’

And in that moment, Soren realized something quietly painful and beautiful at the same time. Even as he was leaving, he had already left a part of himself behind with them.

A short distance away, far enough that their voices wouldn’t easily carry to Soren and the others, a small group of knights lingered together.

A moment after, one of them cast a sideways glance toward Soren and scoffed.

"Look at that slut," he muttered with a sneer. "Finally leaving, huh?"

Then another knight let out a low chuckle while crossing his arms. "Good riddance. That’s good news, right? The camp will be quieter without that bastard skulking around."

"Yeah," a third one added while clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. "Though it’s kind of a shame."

The others turned to look at him.

"Too bad we can’t earn more gold coins through the young Davenmore," he continued with his grin widening. "He was our extra income, after all."

After that, they laughed quietly among themselves.

"We were only told to bully him at first," one of them said while shrugging as if it were nothing. "But who would’ve thought we’d find another way to profit from it?"

"Guess luck doesn’t last forever," another replied. "Once he’s gone, that little stream of coins dries up too."

Their voices lowered further, filled with irritation rather than regret not for what they had done, but for what they were losing. To them, Soren wasn’t a person leaving behind memories and bonds.

He was just a resource that had finally slipped out of their hands.

"Guess I’ll have to request another job, eh?"