[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke-Chapter 209: A Visitor From The North

The man who had been unconscious for an entire night finally stirred awake.

"You’re finally awake," Bard said with a relieved sigh, immediately fussing over the dazed man. "We found you by the river. You really took your tradition of not eating from strangers a bit too seriously, huh?"

There was light teasing in his voice, but the warmth behind his words was real.

Bard had met a few such people during his travels — tribesmen who claimed their gods forbade them from eating food prepared outside their homeland.

These people were so loyal to their ways that they wouldn’t flee their villages even when monsters came knocking on their doors.

And now, perhaps, he had another such man in front of him.

He gently helped the man sit upright, adjusting the pillows behind him.

"But first," Bard said, pulling out a small notebook, "I need your name and age. Standard protocol."

The man blinked at him with clear exhaustion and suspicion.

But then he was given a tray on which were a bowl of steaming soup and a thick slice of fresh bread.

The man’s gaze locked on the food like a starving wolf.

Without another glance at Bard, his cracked lips parted. "Ravik," he rasped out, "My name... is Ravik. I’m sixty-eight."

And then, without hesitation, he began devouring the food. Not politely. Not slowly. But with the desperation of someone who hadn’t tasted a proper meal in weeks, or maybe months.

Bard watched for a moment, then quietly stepped away to prepare the appropriate medicine based on his age and condition.

When Bard returned, Ravik had finished eating and was now hunched forward, breathing quietly.

"Here," Bard said, handing him the medicine. "Drink this. It’ll help with the fatigue."

Ravik took it without question. There was not a flicker of doubt in his gestures.

That, more than anything, struck Bard as strange.

Most people woke up confused, scared, babbling questions. But Ravik said nothing. No "where am I?" or "who are you?" or "how long have I been out?"

He just sat there, his sharp, sunken eyes slowly scanning the ward where beds were neatly aligned. Many people were sitting on them, patiently waiting for their turn.

From the way other healers moved about around the villagers to the herbal plants placed on the window sills, he was observing everything in the vicinity.

Perhaps he was still in shock. Maybe the fear hadn’t yet left his bones.

So, Bard didn’t press him for any information. They had seen many types of patients — some talked too much, some cried, and some... just stared.

Letting him be was often the best medicine of all.

What Bard didn’t know was that the man he pitied was no ordinary survivor.

Ravik was a special knight. One of four selected for a secret mission to retrieve a treasure said to be buried in the southwestern mountains.

They had found it. Just as they were preparing to leave, the cave entrance collapsed, trapping him inside and separating him from the others.

He survived on moss, dripping water, and the occasional bird that flew in through a crack in the rock.

For months, he dug with bare hands. And eventually, he escaped by crawling out through a narrow water tunnel, too exhausted to even scream when he finally saw sunlight again.

He thought he’d wake up in a grave.

Instead, he woke up in this strange village. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

The healers were reserved for nobles or rich merchants. Even among the elite, they were guarded like sacred artifacts.

When Ravik had been selected to serve as the Saintess’s guard, he had believed his life would finally change. That he could send money home. That his sick child might be healed.

But it had all been a lie.

The Saintess had healers, yes — but they never touched the commoners. Not even the guards.

Forget healing, he wasn’t even allowed to dine in the same hall as her. After all this time, his child was still sick.

And the Saintess?

Far from the divine image people worshipped, she was colder than the northern wind and greedier than the most ruthless merchant.

So when Ravik saw these healers who were treating villagers with care, charging them only what they could afford... he was beyond stunned.

"There is a child of the goddess in the hidden corner of the south."

He had heard such hushed whispers fleeting in the cathedral when the crowning ceremony for the saintess was halted.

Now it seemed that he had stumbled upon that same village. But... who is the child of the goddess?

He stared at Bard who was the one handling almost everything, ordering other healers when they were stuck on something.

Maybe... Just as the thought crossed his mind, the entire room fell silent.

Almost everyone was staring at the entrance with eager eyes. Among all of them, Bard’s eyes were literally shining.

Then he saw him.

"My Lord, you are here! We have a patient who is suffering from severe stomach ache. I gave him the antidote but nothing is working for him."

"I’ll see him right now."

It’s you... Even without any introduction, Ravik was sure that the person who was being targeted by Her Highness was this young master.

That aura alone... there’s no way it belonged to someone of humble birth.

So, Ravik became even more silent as he shifted from his bed and silently followed behind Bard and the young lord until he was able to see the person crying in pain.

Gradually, the screaming faded — drowned beneath the gentle surge of pure white mana wrapping around the entire body.

Xion turned around and couldn’t help but smile at the tattooed man staring at them.

"Hello? How are you feeling now? Is there any pain?" he asked while Bard being the attentive aide, showed Xion the paper with Ravik’s details written on it.

"I..." Ravik had to cough to clear his throat as he spoke again, "I’m fine. Thank you for your blessings, young lord." He bowed, but just as he was about to do the standard kneeling they did in front of the saintess, he was stopped.

"Hold on," Xion patted his shoulder, a smile still gracing his face, "Don’t do that. Just take a good rest, and don’t forget to pay the bill before you leave. Okay?"

Ravik nodded.

"Where did you come from, Ravik?" Xion asked, testing a different name on his tongue. "You don’t look local."

"I came from the North, my lord."

The smile on Xion’s face didn’t falter, but his eyes sharpened ever so slightly at the mention of the North.