The Destructive Adventures of the Lovers-Chapter 54: The Little Healer

The morning sun broke through the hospital windows, casting a pale light over the sterile white walls. Matt lay on the narrow bed, his chest slowly rising and falling, his face twisted with the lingering echoes of pain. Ella sat beside him, her hand hovering just above his, too afraid to touch, afraid she might feel the coldness of death creeping in. She stared at the bandaged wound on his side, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and guilt. If only she had caught the masked figure in time.

Suddenly, the heavy sound of hooves echoed from outside. The ground trembled as King Vesh rode up to the hospital, his black horse snorting steam into the morning air. The doors burst open, and the king stepped inside, his golden armor gleaming, the crest of the Holy Land etched across his chestplate. His eyes, sharp and cold as winter steel, fell upon Matt and Ella.

"What happened? Who did this?" his voice cut through the quiet hum of the hospital, each word sharp and precise.

Ella hesitated, feeling the weight of his gaze. She looked down, her fingers curling into the thin fabric of her dress. "It... it was a masked man. He came in the night. He stabbed Matt and fled. I tried to catch him, but..." her voice faltered, her throat tightening.

King Vesh's jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing. He turned to the knight standing behind him, his voice a low growl. "Stark, I want the city guarded day and night. No one enters or leaves without my permission. Do you understand?"

The knight, a tall, muscular figure with a scar running down his cheek, slammed his fist to his chest, his voice firm. "I promise, my king. We will not fail you."

The king gave a final glance at Matt, then turned sharply, his cloak swishing behind him as he marched out, his footsteps echoing down the stone corridor. The clatter of hooves soon followed as he rode off, his figure shrinking into the distance.

Inside the hospital, the air grew still once more. Matt's breaths were shallow, each one a painful whisper in the quiet room. Margo, standing at the doorway, her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of her Death Blade, called out suddenly.

"Lila! Lila!" Margo's voice rang out, cutting through the tension.

From the back of the hospital, a small figure stumbled forward, rubbing her eyes. Lila, a tiny girl with a round, childlike face despite her age of over a hundred years, yawned as she approached the bed. Her long, silver hair trailed behind her like a ghostly veil.

"Ah... sorry, I fell asleep," Lila muttered, her voice surprisingly soft. She clapped her small hands together, and a crackle of blue electricity sparked between her palms. She leaned over Matt, her eyes narrowing in concentration.

She placed her small hands over the wound, the sparks dancing across his skin. Matt winced, his body tensing, but the wound slowly knitted itself together, the bleeding ceasing as the torn flesh sealed beneath her touch.

"Drink the potion," Lila said, her voice firm but kind. "It will help with the pain."

Matt exhaled, his eyes fluttering open. He looked at Lila, his expression one of awe and gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice weak but sincere.

Lila simply nodded, already turning to shuffle back to her corner, her tiny frame almost disappearing into the shadows.

Outside, King Vesh's command echoed through the city, knights clattering into position, their swords drawn and eyes sharp, ready for the next threat.

As they left the hospital, the sun hung low, casting long shadows over the cobbled streets. Matt turned to Lila, his eyes still heavy with exhaustion. "Thank you... for saving me."

Lila smiled, a faint, mysterious curve to her lips, before slipping back into the shadows, her tiny figure vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Back at the house, Margo sharpened her Death Blade, the steel whispering with each stroke, her eyes hard with determination. Gabriel, his face set in a grim line, made his way to the castle, his footsteps heavy with the weight of what was to come.

The morning mist clung to the cobblestone streets, curling around the wooden beams of the blacksmith shop like the breath of a slumbering beast. Inside, the air was thick with the metallic tang of iron and the sharp, crackling heat of the forge. Margo stood beside a heavy grindstone, her Death Blade in hand, its dark steel gleaming in the firelight. She pressed the blade against the spinning stone, sending a spray of sparks into the smoky air. Her eyes were sharp, focused, each stroke of the blade a silent promise of vengeance.

Meanwhile, Gabriel stood in the towering halls of the castle, his steps echoing off the polished stone. He approached the throne, where King Vesh sat, his armored form imposing against the carved marble. Gabriel dropped to one knee, his head bowed.

"Your Majesty," Gabriel began, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. "I have a request."

King Vesh's eyes narrowed. "Speak."

"I must leave the castle," Gabriel said, lifting his head to meet the king's gaze. "I have someone to find. I will bring Margo, Matt, Ella, and Lila with me."

The king's fingers tightened around the armrests of his throne, the metal creaking under the pressure. He studied Gabriel for a moment, the firelight flickering in his steely eyes.

"You wish to leave?" King Vesh's voice rumbled, deep and measured. "To seek this... someone?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Gabriel replied, his jaw set. "We need to find Owen. The brother of Carl. He may hold the key to our next move."

King Vesh leaned back, his gauntleted hand tapping against the throne, the sound a slow, steady drumbeat. Finally, he gave a small, sharp nod. "Very well. Go. But do not fail me, Gabriel."

Gabriel rose, a slight smile breaking through his otherwise stoic expression. "I will not."

Moments later, he returned to the house, the soft murmur of conversation already drifting through the open door. Matt sat on the edge of the couch, his face still pale but his eyes sharper now, strength returning to his limbs. Ella stood by the window, her fingers tracing the frost that crept along the glass. Margo leaned against the wall, her blade now sharper than ever, her eyes cold and calculating.

Gabriel stepped into the center of the room, his presence commanding the immediate attention of everyone. "We're leaving," he announced, his voice cutting through the quiet. "We're going to find Owen. The brother of Carl."

Lila, curled up in the corner, her tiny figure wrapped in a thick, fur-lined cloak, perked up. "I heard of a place," she said, her voice small but clear. "Far from here. A kingdom known as Lavera. Perhaps he is there."

Gabriel nodded, his eyes fierce. "Then that's our destination."

He extended his hand into the center of the group, his fingers tense, waiting. One by one, the others moved closer, their hands joining his. Matt, still weak but determined. Ella, her eyes glowing with a dangerous spark. Margo, her grip strong and unyielding. Lila, her tiny hand a surprising warmth against the others.

"Are you guys in?" Gabriel's voice rang out, a challenge, a promise.

They tightened their hands together, a circle of flesh and steel, strength and purpose.

"Let's find Owen!"