The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 77: “Unforgivable. Absolutely unforgivable.”

After suggesting that way to bring Soren’s temperature back to normal, Caelius went back to his tent with a lot on his mind. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Once inside, he sat down and just stared at the ground while thinking. He told himself he did it to help Soren and maybe to help Cael fix the mess he’d made but deep down, he knew there was more to it than that.

He just wanted Cael to finally face something he’d been avoiding for a long time.

Feelings he’d buried under pleasure and distractions. Cael was good at pretending nothing mattered, and Caelius hoped this would force him to realize that Soren actually did.

Caelius had known Cael long enough to understand what kind of person he really was.

That innocent smile of his fooled many people, but not him.

As a noble, Caelius had seen too many masks to fall for it. He knew how badly Cael treated people when no one was watching and how easily he played with others’ emotions just for his own amusement. That was why Caelius never fully trusted him, no matter how friendly or gentle Cael acted.

He stayed alert and was always careful.

As far as Caelius knew, there were only a few people Cael had ever been honest with.

Torin, their healer from the past, was one of them and Alaric was another.

Everyone else was kept at a distance, treated like entertainment. And now, somehow, Soren had ended up in that same dangerous space, close enough to matter.

Then, Caelius let out a quiet sigh and leaned back, rubbing his temples.

Whether Cael would finally understand his own feelings or return to his old habits wasn’t something he could control anymore. All Caelius could do now was watch from the sidelines and hope that, this time, Cael wouldn’t destroy the one person who managed to reach him.

Soren was a kind and gentle person.

Even though he was a noble who usually didn’t mix much with commoners or get close to people easily, Caelius still found himself opening up to Soren without really meaning to.

It was simply easy to be around him. Soren was quiet, never nosy, and never clingy. He knew when to speak and when to stay silent. He never crossed boundaries and always seemed to understand his place, which made people feel comfortable around him.

Because of that, Caelius eventually wanted to be friends with him.

And Caelius knew it wasn’t just him.

Even the knights who had once treated Soren coldly or outright rudely before slowly warmed up to him. Soren never snapped back, never held a grudge, and never gave up on them just because they treated him poorly at first.

He stayed the same, patient and polite, until their hostility faded on its own.

That was Soren’s quiet charm.

At first glance, he looked like a pushover, someone easy to overlook but there was something about him that naturally drew people in. And Caelius had seen it clearly when it came to Lyric, the young lord of Davenmore.

Lyric was known for his sharp temper and cruel behavior. He trampled commoners without hesitation, humiliating them with words and sometimes even violence. If cruelty alone could kill, many would have already died by Lyric’s hands.

And yet, even Lyric had softened around Soren.

So much so that it caused tension between Lyric and his twin brother, who couldn’t understand the change in him. The fact that Soren, of all people had managed to affect someone like Lyric was proof enough that there was more to him than his quiet demeanor suggested.

In truth, many things were happening around Soren without him ever realizing it.

Conversations, conflicts, and shifting loyalties all seemed to circle back to him. Unknowingly, Soren had become the center of it all, changing people simply by being himself.

"Haa... it really is hard being being a middleman," Caelius sighed while rubbing his temple.

Whether or not Soren truly saw him as a friend didn’t matter to Caelius anymore. Even if it was a one-sided decision, he had already made up his mind. He wanted to help Soren and if only to ease the weight Soren carried without ever complaining about it.

And Caelius knew one thing for certain. If Soren was to be protected, he needed someone powerful on his side.

Someone whose authority no one in the camp could challenge.

That person was Cael.

If Cael grew close to Soren, then no one would dare harm him or look down on him again. That was Caelius’s plan. Not born out of schemes or politics, but out of a quiet wish to see Soren safe. Even if it meant playing the role of a middleman and bearing the trouble alone, Caelius was willing to do it.

Meanwhile, back in the northern temple, Thalric and Aria were given a new task.

The order came directly from the High Priest, so there was no room to refuse. They were to travel to the capital’s main temple because of who the command came from, the journey felt strangely easy. There were no questions, delays, and no one were trying to interfere.

Officially, their mission was simple.

They were to visit the capital temple, go into the slums, and help treat common folk together with the Imperial Healers. It was meant to show unity between the Church and the Empire and to ease the people’s suffering.

To make it look proper, they were accompanied by twenty Holy Knights and several priests trained in healing magic.

To anyone watching, it looked like nothing more than a goodwill visit but that wasn’t the real reason Thalric and Aria were there.

Their true goal was the Solven family.

The High Priest had eyes and ears everywhere.

Through people working quietly under him, he already knew what was happening among the nobles. The Solven family, once respected, was now in a terrible position.

After the incident in the north caused by the heir, their reputation had taken a heavy blow. Things only became worse when the youngest prince of Elarion officially announced that the Solven family would no longer receive imperial support.

That single decision pushed them to the edge.

Without powerful allies, the Solvens were left almost like commoners.

They still lived in their mansion, but it was the only thing left that showed they were once a noble house. Everything else was gone.

Inside that mansion, the atmosphere was tense and heavy.

Arctelle, the heir, continued to suffer under his father’s anger because Azric, his father was still furious about how everything had turned out, blaming his son for dragging the family into chaos.

Even now, Arctelle was being punished with no sign that his father intended to ease up.

Still, the Solven family was not completely alone.

After arriving in the capital, Thalric had already taken action.

Acting quietly as a representative of the Church, he sent a letter to Azric. It was delivered discreetly, hidden from the Imperial Family and the other nobles who would surely object if they found out.

To Lord Azric Solven,

May the light of our gracious Goddess Mirath reach you in good health and steady spirit.

Though we have not been formally acquainted, the church has long been aware of your devotion, service and the burden that has lately fallen upon your noble house. It is said that when trials grow too heavy for one heart to bear, the Goddess opens another path, one guided by compassion and understanding.

It is in that spirit that I write to you.

I humbly ask that you lend your heart a moment of stillness when it comes to your beloved son. The Goddess sees effort even when the world sees only failure. By the grace of Mirath, I know that your heir possesses both diligence and sincerity, yet fate placed him against a rival blessed with greater fortune in healing arts.

Such imbalance is not always born of sin, but of circumstance.

Justice, as we mortals practice it, is often imperfect. Punishment may be necessary, yet wrath when placed upon one who has already suffered can wound more deeply than it heals. I ask you, as a father and as a servant of the Goddess, to reflect on whether continued severity truly aligns with Mirath’s will.

Should your house find itself in need of guidance, healing, or counsel, the doors of the church remain open to you. I shall wait in prayer, ready to extend aid when called upon.

May our beloved Goddess Mirath watch over you, grant you clarity and bless your household with restoration and peace.

In devotion and faith,

A humble servant of Mirath

After finishing the letter, Azric placed it neatly on the table. His expression was cold and sharp as his eyes shifted toward his aide standing nearby.

"Call my useless son," he said coldly. "Bring him here."

"Yes, my lord," the aide replied at once while bowing before leaving the room.

Azric then leaned back in his chair with his fingers slowly tapping against the table.

He had not been born into greatness. As the son of a mere baron, everything he had now was the result of ambition, calculation, and relentless effort. He had climbed as far as he could on his own, and he believed the rest of the path lay with his son.

That was why he had been so strict with Arctelle.

Perfection was not a choice but a requirement.

In Azric’s eyes, his son was never simply a child to be protected, but a tool, a bridge toward higher status, power, fame, and wealth. Every lesson, punishment and expectation had been for that single purpose.

When news came that Arctelle had been involved in the northern subjugation, Azric had celebrated. He had already imagined the recognition, praise and the doors that would finally open for their family.

But his triumph did not last.

The moment he learned that his son had been sent back or dismissed by the young prince himself, his hopes shattered but the humiliation burned deeper when he heard the reason.

It’s because of a commoner.

The thought alone made his blood boil. He had been so enraged that he nearly collapsed as fury rushed through him.

"To think a commoner dared to go against my son..." Azric muttered with his hand clenching into a fist. "Unforgivable. Absolutely unforgivable."

His eyes darkened as his thoughts twisted into something more dangerous.

"That brat should have died," he whispered coldly. "As long as he exists, my son will never stand at the center where he belongs."

Azric then straightened in his seat, resolve hardening within him.

"I will not remain a mere baron," he said under his breath. "Never. I will climb higher no matter the cost."