A Tale of Strategies For the Throne

Chapter 19

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"what!!!"

Garlan, who had just relaxed his tense nerves, was grabbed so coldly, and he let out a loud roar in fright.

If it wasn't for his wrist being grabbed by the opponent and unable to stand up, I'm afraid he would have jumped up.

Looking closely, and meeting those golden-red eyes, Garlan suddenly breathed a sigh of relief.

Really scary and scary.

Just thinking about it, Garlan was about to breathe a sigh of relief, but after a second thought, he felt that something was wrong, and he brought it up again in one breath.

He was holding the dagger just now and seemed to be indecisive... This person must have seen all of them, right? He can't guess what he's going to do, can he? !

"…What are you doing?"

The boy's voice was originally hoarse during the voice-changing period, and at this moment it was even more hoarse. It was like a frosted voice, which made it uncomfortable to listen to.

Garlan, who was already guilty, was heartbroken by the sound.

"No... didn't do anything... I, I'll help you pick up things... "

Garlan stammered halfway through his words when Heimos rudely interrupted him.

"I ask you, what are you beating yourself for?"

The boy asked, breathing heavily.

He was in a daze just now, when he suddenly heard two consecutive sounds, first the crisp sound of metal utensils falling, and then the snapping sound.

When he woke up, he opened his eyes just to see Garlan slap him in the face like a convulsion.

He stared at the bright red fingerprints on the child's face, feeling inexplicably uncomfortable.

"This... that... "

Garlan choked for a moment, suddenly blessed.

"I-I'm here to apologize, um, didn't I accidentally hit you yesterday?" he whispered, "Look, I slapped myself too... Don't be mad at me, okay?"

While speaking, Garlan reached out and touched Heimos' face, where he had beaten him last time.

Heimos pursed his lips and said nothing.

The child kneeling beside him had bright golden eyes and watery eyes, just looking at him like this, his shadow reflected in the bottom of his eyes, and red finger prints were printed on his snow-white cheeks, and his soft little hands touched him. his face.

The small appearance that looked at him and coaxed him, even the stone-hearted man couldn't help but soften his heart.

The young man rolled his eyes.

"I know what you're thinking."

"Ah... ah?"

Garland panicked.

I was really just stunned for a while and just had that thought in my mind, I really didn’t plan to do anything to you—

Just when Garlan panicked, Heimos continued to speak.

He turned his face away without looking at Garlan, and said in a stiff tone.

"If you go out with this face, everyone will think that I did something to you - don't you just have this idea?"

Garland: "..."

Panting.

"No, don't worry, I'll explain it clearly." He said quickly, "And when everyone sees that you're so ill, it's impossible for everyone to be rough with me, right? Ah—that's right."

He was so nervous that he almost forgot that the guy in front of him was still ill, so he had to call someone quickly.

"Wait, I'll call someone now."

Garlan said, and was about to get up. But he still couldn't stand up in the end. Heimos didn't let go, but instead tightened his fingers suddenly and clenched his wrist even tighter. The pain was so intense that Garland almost shouted.

"No..." A young man with a flushed face couldn't even utter a complete sentence. He took a few sharp breaths before saying the last two words, "...Need!"

The first rule of survival in the slums is to never let others see you as weak. That is equivalent to showing your fragile throat to others, and then being bitten off by others when they seize the opportunity.

The weak will not receive the slightest mercy, and will only make people more contemptuous.

This has become Heimos's survival criterion, and even if he later returned to his family, even in front of his biological parents, he never showed any signs of weakness.

Now, when he thought of his weak appearance being seen by this child, he felt a little irritable inexplicably.

"Why? You're sick."

"Hey... windy!" His mind was dizzy, and his vision began to blur. Heimos pursed his lips, and with a stubborn expression, he tightly clasped Garlan's wrist.

"No need... just... No need!"

He was in a trance, and he didn't know how to control his strength, so he squeezed Garlan's fingers tightly.

"I got it! Got it—let it go!"

Garlan, whose mouth was twitching in pain, desperately wanted to break Heimos's fingers, and he felt that his wrist was about to break.

"I don't call anyone, just let go!"

Hearing that Garlan said not to call anyone, Heimos let go of Garlan's hand in a daze.

Garlan took a look, good guy, his wrist has turned blue and purple in a circle, like a bracelet is there. If Heimos didn't know the importance and added more strength, I'm afraid his wrist would really be broken.

He moved his body back a little cautiously in case Heimos suddenly grabbed him again, and whispered.

"If you don't call someone, I can't put you on the bed alone."

"You don't need to… you don't care," Huymos said, intermittently. "You… go back to your room…"

He gasped as he spoke.

Even lying on the ground, he was dizzy, the scenery in front of him seemed to be distorted, and there seemed to be fire burning in his body, as if the blood in his whole body would be dried up.

"… You go back!"

He managed to squeeze a few words out of his throat.

The child he chased seemed to be stunned for a while, then got up and ran out quickly.

Seeing the child's back disappearing at the door, it was clear that he drove the people away by himself, but Heimos didn't know why, and his heart was inexplicably empty.

He took a deep breath to drive away the feeling of loss in his heart, closed his eyes, and then gritted his teeth hard, trying to prop up his body from the ground. But he is too weak now, he just raised his head a little, and then fell again in the next second.

He was lying on the ground on his back, only to feel that his entire body was empty, he couldn't exert any strength, and his whole body was so hot that he was almost unconscious.

A beam of moonlight fell on his red-hot face, and he lay on the ground, staring at the snow-white crescent moon in the dark night sky.

He seemed to have returned to a long time ago. At that time, he was lying in a rubbish pit, all alone, surrounded by empty and dead silence, with only the crescent moon in the dark night sky accompanying him.

… He closed his eyes slowly.

pat pat pat.

What sound, from far to near.

The boy opened his eyes, the face of the child he thought had left appeared in his sight again, and a small hand stretched out to touch his forehead.

Something cold was covering his forehead, and a trace of coolness penetrated into the scalding skin, relieving the heat of his head.

Garlan put a damp cloth on his forehead and touched his cheek again. His fingers were soft and cool, giving him a very comfortable feeling. When the little hand left, there was a subtle sense of loss in Heimos' heart.

He looked up at Garland.

The child knelt beside him and looked at him with open eyes.

On that small face the size of a slap, the eyes were big and bright.

Those golden eyes, obviously in the dark night, were as bright as a pair of small golden suns. It glowed in the dark, and for some reason people couldn't take their eyes off it. Even the bright moon in the night sky became the background of the phantom.

Garlan lowered his head and took it out from his waist, and took out a small white medicine jar.

Fortunately, when he sneaked over, he thought that Heimos didn't know if there was any medicine, so he simply brought the ointment that the doctor had left for him and instructed the maid to rub him every day.

Now this guy Heimos doesn't know what's going on, he refuses to let him call people, and he can't really just leave it alone. .

He doesn't take the blame.

Garlan rubbed his hands. Just now, he ran out to find the stream outside to wash his hands. By the way, he tore a piece of cloth from his body and brought it back wet.

How can I help the patient wipe the medicine if I don't wash my hands? It would be bad if a germ got into the wound.

He thought as he smeared ointment on the wounds of Heimos.

Unexpectedly, in this life, he will actually help his mortal enemy apply medicine one day.

Hey, I hope that good intentions can be rewarded. For the sake of helping him today, Heimos can let him go in the future.

Thinking so much in his heart, Garland, who was dedicated to helping Heimos to apply the ointment, didn't realize that the young man lying on the ground opened his eyes at some point, and after watching him quietly for a while, did he I closed my eyes again.

When the medicine was finished, the half bottle of medicine was almost empty, and the Garland people were exhausted.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked up at Heimos. The boy lay quietly on the ground with his eyes closed, as if he had fallen asleep.

He reached for the damp cloth that was resting on Heimos's forehead. He covered Heimos's forehead with his hand for a while, and felt that Heimos's forehead seemed to be no longer as hot as it was at the beginning, and his face was not so red.

The boy closed his eyes, his slender eyelashes fell, and a light shadow fell on his honey-colored cheeks. Garlan looked at this familiar but somewhat unfamiliar face, without the coldness and evil in his memory, with a little childish childishness. At this moment, he seemed very peaceful.

Garland thought, he was really stunned just now.

The boy in front of him at the moment was only twelve or thirteen years old, and he was just a child.

Even Heimos, who will be called the 'Evil Ghost' in the future, never used any despicable means to take advantage of others' dangers when he competed with him for the throne. Even if Heimos killed him, but every time, after defeating him dignifiedly.

And he actually wanted to kill a sick child just now...

If he really did that, wouldn't he be even more vicious than the so-called 'evil ghost'

Forget it, stop thinking about it.

Anyway, it has been decided not to grab the throne in this life.

Shaking his head vigorously and throwing out the messy things in his mind, Garlan got up, ran to the side of the bed, took down the thin blanket on the bed, and put it on Heimos.

He knelt beside him, reached out and patted the covered blanket as if he was patting a child. After the patting, a satisfied look appeared on his face.

"I helped you so much, and you will repay me in the future."

The answer is very simple, just don't kill me.

After Garlan finished speaking to the sleeping boy in such a low voice, he looked at the sky, it was almost midnight. He got up quickly and ran quickly.

It's just that when Garlan ran away, he didn't notice that the eyes of the boy he thought were asleep opened slightly.

The shadow of the slender eyelashes fell into the slits of Heimos's opened eyes, making it impossible to see the eyes he was looking at the back of the child at the moment.

It was not until Garlan's back disappeared under the night sky that Heimos sat up slowly, and the blanket covering him slid down from him.

The body is still a little hot, but the places where the medicine has been rubbed are cool, and even the pain is relieved a little.

Heimos lowered his eyes, wondering what he was thinking.

After a while, he raised his hand and pressed his fingertips to his forehead.

There, there seemed to be a little residual warmth left by the little white hand.

The author has something to say: Garland: I saved you once, can you promise me a request

Huymos: …Tell me about it.

Garland: Don't kill me!

Heimos: ? ?