Chapter 92: The Substitute

When I saw Rodd again, it was within the familiar confines of his carriage. The dim light filtering into the cabin cast shadows upon his weary face, his brows deeply furrowed, and his expression a complex tapestry of emotions.

“I managed to rescue them, but… something might not be quite right,” he began.

His gaze flickered uncertainly, and without completing his sentence, he shifted, revealing a small figure lying behind him.

It was a tiny girl, her loosely curled brown hair fanned out around her delicate, serene face. She appeared to be merely sleeping peacefully.

“Her breath was as light as a feather, giving her the appearance of a sleeping sprite.”

“NANA!”

My heart clenched violently. Forgetting my own exhaustion, I rushed forward, dropping to my knees beside her, and tremblingly reached out to shake her shoulder.

“Nana… Nana?”

My voice was thick with anxiety, yet no matter how I called out, the child remained utterly unresponsive.

Her body was frigid, exactly as it had been on the ship. Aside from her faint breathing, everything about her made me question if she was truly alive.

“How could this be…?”

The fear in my heart grew, seeping into every nerve. Previously, I had attributed her state to weakness, but why was she still unresponsive now?

Suddenly, a horrifying thought flashed through my mind like lightning.

‘A vegetative state!’

Those who, due to severe brain damage, lose all consciousness save for breathing. Could Lulona… be in such a condition?

I frantically checked her body, my heart pounding like a drum, until I confirmed she had no external injuries. Only then did I exhale a sigh of relief.

Yet, that comfort lasted only a fleeting moment, as new questions immediately assailed me.

“Why…?”

“Why is she completely unresponsive? What exactly happened to her?”

“That’s why I said, something isn’t quite right,” Rodd’s voice echoed from behind me, tinged with a subtle weariness and a hint of breathlessness.

He gazed at Lulona, a complex emotion swirling in his eyes.

“There’s… no scent of the living about her.”

“You’re talking nonsense!”

My anger erupted instantly, and I violently pushed Rodd away as he tried to approach.

In that brief instant, he let out a muffled groan, instinctively clutching his abdomen.

I stopped in astonishment, my gaze involuntarily falling upon him.

Beneath his outer garment, white bandages were faintly visible, already saturated with fresh, crimson blood.

He was injured?

This man, with his exceptional skills, usually sensed even a thief’s ambush with ease. He had calmly diffused the situation when two beggars surrounded him last time. How could he have been so easily wounded now?

He must have been stabbed by those bastards while rescuing Nana.

He was injured because he was helping me.

If not for me, he would be completely unharmed right now.

All my emotions receded like a tide, leaving behind only a heavy sense of guilt.

“I’m sorry…” I whispered, my voice almost imperceptible beneath the weight of my remorse.

“It’s just a minor injury, barely feel a thing,” Rodd chuckled softly, his tone nonchalant.

“Don’t believe me? Feel it.”

No sooner had the words left his lips than he seized my wrist, applying a gentle pressure. My fingertips involuntarily pressed against his lower abdomen.

Through the thin fabric, I felt the firm, taut lines of muscle, yet it was cool and damp, as if he had just emerged from the sea.

My hand was guided by his, slowly sliding down the contours. The muscles there reacted beneath my palm like a sensitive mimosa plant, contracting slightly.

“See? I’m fine.” His lips still held a relaxed smile, as if to reassure me, or perhaps to tease me.

“I’m sorry…”

I didn’t feel any better. Seeing him try so hard to put me at ease only made me feel even more guilty.

He had absolutely no obligation to help me, but…

“Alright, alright, don’t make such a face.” His finger gently pushed against my chin, tilting my face upward.

“Now, we should analyze the child’s condition thoroughly.”

“Analyze… but I… I don’t know anything…” I looked at Rodd helplessly, my eyes betraying a deep sense of powerlessness and despair.

‘In this moment, I hated my incompetence, hated that I ‘couldn’t do anything.’ If only, if only I could…’

“I might have a way.”

“!?”

Rodd’s sudden voice interrupted my thoughts. My spirits instantly lifted, and my hands instinctively reached for his firm chest, clinging to him like a lifeline, like a little girl relying on her older brother.

“Ugh—”

“Eh—”

Perhaps due to his injury, Rodd’s strength was considerably less than before. My sudden movement caused him to lose his balance and fall backward onto the carriage floor.

I, too, tumbled forward, landing squarely on his chest.

After a second, as the situation abruptly dawned on me, I realized I was straddling him, perched on his waist, my slender, tender thighs tightly clamping his rigid hip bones.

My upper body, pulled by gravity, was bent forward, my face nearly touching the tip of Rodd’s firm nose. Our breaths mingled like two swirling currents of air.

This position felt rather precarious, not just because it was often associated with intimate moments, but also because, even through thick clothing, my sensitive self distinctly felt that one particular spot on his cool body was strangely hot.

“Ugh…” A look of utter bewilderment crossed my face.

Before, I might have immediately moved away from him. Even earlier, I might have shamelessly lingered to entice him. However, now, ever since I confessed to him, I no longer knew how I should face him.

After all, Rodd was now, in a sense, my benefactor.

Regardless of the outcome, he had taken such immense risks to help me rescue Lulona and then sent people to reclaim me from Governor Sherlock. This was a debt I could never fully repay.

So, I no longer knew how to face this man. Although I felt that, in his eyes, I must be a rather disgusting monster.

But, if he wanted to continue using my abilities, to reminisce about his former wife, I might be quite willing to remain on his waist. However…

“While I don’t mind you staying on my waist, however…” Rodd offered me a helpless smile. “Shouldn’t we perhaps examine the child now?”

“I’m sorry.” This was not the first time I had uttered these words.

“I’m sorry” seemed to have become my catchphrase. Becoming confident, for me, appeared to be an impossibility.

After standing up again, Rodd took a moment to compose himself, then asked me, “Do you still have that dagger?”

‘It’s still here.’ I fumbled around my body for a moment, finally locating the dagger a few centimeters below my breast. ‘No wonder it felt a bit uncomfortable when I was swimming.’

“Good. Now, try to lightly scratch the child’s skin.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Just do as I say for now. Don’t worry, I won’t lie to you.” Rodd gave me a reassuring look.

‘…Indeed, this man would definitely not harm Lulona. There must be a reason for him to do this.’

So, holding the dagger, I gently drew a thin, short scratch on Lulona’s tiny arm. I truly couldn’t bear to hurt her, and even this small wound made me frown as I completed the task.

But then, something unexpected happened. The wound, which had just been bleeding, visibly healed before my eyes. Slowly, not even a trace remained.

“Just as I thought…”

The next moment, Rodd suddenly snatched the dagger from me and plunged it violently into the body before him!

I gasped in alarm, but immediately, Lulona’s body before me began to melt like a candle, its soft contours slowly sinking.

The delicate, lovely face gradually twisted, its once serene expression vanishing, replaced by a lifeless indifference. Her skin turned ashen, as if drained of all blood, stretched taut over a tiny skeletal frame.

Her curly hair was no longer soft; it became stiff as withered grass, scattered around her. Her small fingers were rigid and cold, and her limbs were contorted in unnatural positions.

Her lips were slightly parted, revealing the stiff grimace characteristic of the deceased. Her eyes, though closed, exuded an undeniable aura of death.

This once warm figure had now transformed into a cold corpse of a child, emitting an unbearable stench of decay. The entire carriage seemed to be permeated by the silence of death, oppressing me until I could barely breathe.

Just then, Rodd silently withdrew the dagger and said coldly, “This child is a substitute.”

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