YED Chapter 147

Kaela fought desperately to stay conscious, though her mind was hazy, her head dizzy, and her stomach in agony. Her face, pale as a sheet, was beaded with cold sweat. The pain in her abdomen was so intense she couldn’t even straighten her body, yet she struggled. On the verge of collapse, she held on through sheer willpower. A primal instinct screamed at her that she couldn’t lose consciousness.

“Medicine. Drink it.”

Swallowing was difficult. Eating itself was already a struggle, and with unexpected poison coursing through her, she wanted nothing in her mouth. Nausea surged, and her stomach churned violently. It wasn’t the time to eat anything, but Kaela gripped the wrist offering the medicine, her small hand turning white with the force. She swallowed with difficulty, preparing to drink.

“Kaela, please.”

The only reason she was holding on pleaded with her. Peon was beside her.

His hand holding the medicine trembled, and his eyes had long been red-rimmed. She was only now seeing Peon’s expressions clearly, expressions she hadn’t known before because she had always been unconscious and bedridden. He begged.

“Just drink this. Okay?”

He begged, but she might not drink it. No, she probably wouldn’t. Kaela always jumped at the chance to die. Peon trembled and resolved himself. There was no other way. He’d have to force it down her throat. Force it down and kill everyone responsible.

Then Kaela lowered her head slightly and pulled his wrist closer. It was a sign of acquiescence. He quickly poured the medicine into her mouth.

Ever since the Ferenco incident, Peon had always kept an antidote prepared.

He had combined all sorts of medicinal herbs that grew in the hidden, untouched realm of the evil dragon, so even when Kaela had poisoned herself intentionally, he had been able to act quickly. But even with his swift action, Kaela hadn’t woken up for nearly a month.

So every time something like this happened, Peon was driven to the brink of madness.

The medicine wasn’t just made from a combination of herbs; it had reached the point where he even used his own blood in its creation. So that she wouldn’t die no matter what she ingested. So that she wouldn’t be harmed again. He would hold onto her, no matter the cost.

“Drink it all.”

The red blood that had flowed down her pale face had darkened, turning black. What could there be in this small body to produce so much blood? There was so much blood splattered on her dress, her white neck, and her hands.

Peon gritted his teeth. He would save her. If she died, he would follow her and wring death’s neck. He would save Kaela, and kill everyone else.

“Don’t lose consciousness. Look at me.”

Kaela, barely breathing, nodded repeatedly, unable to even open her eyes properly. She was so small. So heartbreakingly small.

“Are you listening to me? You have to open your eyes and look at me.”

If she lost consciousness here, it would be the end. He might have to watch Kaela, weakened and in a coma, cross the river of death.

Peon struggled to keep Kaela conscious. He would do anything, even the unthinkable, to save his wife.

Then, her blood-soaked lips parted.

“Don’t talk.”

Her voice was raspy. Though she was the one poisoned, it was her husband whose insides felt as if they were being torn apart.

The pain was so intense he wanted to give up. He wanted to give up, but in the end, what he clung to were his two hands, full of foolish longing and steeped in obsession. No, his whole body. Peon clung to her with his entire being.

“I know, don’t talk.”

But despite his pleas, her small lips formed ominous words.

“Sorry.”

What was there to be sorry about? He was the one who had sinned, so why was she, the one suffering from his sins, apologizing?

“Don’t say that.”

Please. Don’t say those words. Peon’s hands trembled as he pleaded.

In his memory, it was only a few months ago when he last saw Kaela as she was being dragged to the northern tower. Kaela had never admitted to her supposed crimes. Of course, she hadn’t committed any crimes, so there was nothing to confess.

When Kaela, always silently enduring, quiet but steadfast, finally said she was sorry, it sounded like her last words. It sounded like she was asking him to stop, to let her go.

This angel, too kind and gentle, unable to even utter a curse, was apologizing insincerely, trying to slip from his grasp.

“Don’t smile.”

The corners of her blood-crusted lips turned up slightly. Her face, drained of blood and now turning blue, pleaded with him.

“You never smiled at me before, so don’t smile now.”

It’s like you’re saying goodbye. Like you’re smiling out of kindness, happy because death is near. Do you know how terrifying and frightening it is for me to see you smile? Do you even know? You don’t, do you?

“Why do you always smile only when you’re about to die…?”

As if escaping from her wretched husband was a joy, as if she was relieved to finally be able to die, she smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling, her peach-like cheeks slightly puffed.

He hated it so much. He hated that smile so much, and because it was so rare, he stared at it, entranced. Kaela would never know how much it made his blood run cold.

Why did she have to be so beautiful? He, the inept man who couldn’t even comfort his crying younger sister and instead sought comfort from her, had only made his young wife cry, unable to treat her well.

Were there any beautiful memories in their time together? No matter how hard he searched, there were none. He had always turned his back on Kaela, his senses numb, and she, with no one to lean on, had cried silently until she could no longer cry.

It was always the same ending. Even if he clung to Kaela until his body was broken and torn apart, it was always too late, irreversible. That was his sin.

If it was always going to be too late, why did he even come back? To see this single, fleeting smile? To see her take even a single bite?

Ah, yes. Even if it was just to see that, he would gladly offer his life, sacrifice himself, and return.

Even if his bones were ground to dust and his head crushed, he would return. He would return and see her. See her, desire her, and with bloodshot eyes, make the meaningless vow to save her this time, and carry it out. Just like now.

“Live. Live and smile. Live and smile at me!”

He always struggled, clinging to the woman who wanted to die. Even then, he searched and destroyed the wicked poison coursing through Kaela’s veins.

He had reached that point. To save his frail wife, weak to the cold and countless times wounded in body and mind, he had walked a path no dragon had walked before and gained abilities he never thought possible.

“I, I was wrong. I was wrong, so you have to punish me. I should be the one in pain, why are you…!”

Why do you have to suffer like this?

Peon’s eyes widened at the drops of blood falling on her pale face. Ah, it wasn’t Kaela’s blood. It was flowing from his own eyes. Everything was red. Only his wife’s small face was white.

In the end, this was all their relationship amounted to. The greatest punishment for Peon was Kaela’s death, and the next greatest was her pain, so the only way she could retaliate was to harm herself.

If this was their relationship, it was a cursed one. He knew they shouldn’t be together. He knew Kaela was right to cut him off and leave, to speak of divorce, and if that failed, to try to die.

But did knowing what was right mean one always followed the righteous path? Foolish humans walked towards ruin even when they knew it awaited them. Peon, who had lived longer as a human than as a dragon, couldn’t let go.

How could he let go of the only good thing left, the single love remaining in his ruined life, salvaged from the ashes? He didn’t know how. Not knowing, he couldn’t do it.

The dragon, weeping tears of blood, desperately grasped the faint breath escaping her cooling body. He grasped it and breathed his own life into her. He knew only this way, the way of clinging and sharing what he had.

“Kaela.”

He called her name and pressed his ear to her blood-soaked chest. Her heart, which should be beating rapidly, was slow.

“Kaela?”

His breath warmed her small, cold body. She should wake up… why wouldn’t she wake up?

“Wake up, Kaela.”

Strange. Kaela kept getting covered in blood. Everywhere he looked, drops of blood were falling and spreading.

He wiped the blood from her cheek, smearing it. The mixture of blood and water spread, creating a flush. She looked a little more lively now. Shouldn’t she be waking up?

“Kaela. Open your eyes.”

Her closed eyes remained motionless. Why wouldn’t she open them? Ah, was this not enough? Peon lifted himself, holding Kaela in his arms. The dragon, large enough to swallow a mountain range, began to move.

“How can I make her wake up?”

He wrapped his life force around her slow-beating heart, sharing his own vitality. Tears of blood streaming down his face, Peon walked. With a single step, he arrived at the magic tool room in the Soleil Palace, heavily guarded by the Emperor’s orders.

The smoke-stained magic tools had been repaired again today, but they still couldn’t function properly.

The servants had only painstakingly polished them to a gleaming shine. Even polished, the giant, useless magic tools were nothing but cumbersome decorations taking up space.

“Are you scared of the Emperor?”

It’s alright. Peon soothed his wife, cradled in his arms.

“It’s alright. I haven’t touched him because you hate when I’m frightening. You don’t like this sort of thing. Wake up, quickly.”

Staring at his limp wife as if unable to understand, Peon tilted his head.

“Do you still not want to wake up? Was I too incompetent? I’m sorry.”

The soot-blackened magic tools suddenly burst into flames. It was the dragon’s fire, a fire that would never extinguish itself until its target was completely consumed.

The plan he had put off until the very last moment was brought forward by Kaela, limp and drenched in blood. Amidst the flames that instantly spread to every magic tool, Peon held Kaela and whispered.

“I’m sorry, Kaela. Open your eyes. Just once. I set fire to this place. You have to scold me.”

She should be shouting, “No!” That single word would make Peon stop everything. But Kaela, buried in his arms, looked as if she were asleep, her hand dangling limply.

Crackling sparks flew. The dragon, suffering pain far greater than being burned, with tears of blood streaming down his face, left the raging flames to themselves and looked down at his wife.

“Kaela, hmm…? Wake up.”

The vast magic tool room was quickly engulfed in flames. Standing in the middle of it all, the nearly two-meter-tall man kept wiping his small wife’s face and pressing his ear against her chest.

“Fire!”

Outside, servants screamed as they spotted the black smoke escaping.

“Why won’t she open her eyes?”

On the bright summer day, black, low clouds suddenly filled the clear blue sky above Craine. Crash! Lightning and thunder struck mercilessly. Blinding bolts of lightning tore through the sky.

“H-Heeelp!”

A servant, barely managing to enter the magic tool room, screamed upon seeing Peon standing within the smoke. The flames were too intense to get any closer.

Peon didn’t take his eyes off Kaela, whether the servant was there or not. It was as if he was pouring his entire mind and soul into her.

“Fire! Fire! Fire!”

“The magic tools are on fire!”

The flames, greedily devouring the magic tools, never encroached upon their master. The acrid smoke also avoided him. Even the immense heat obeyed the dragon. Peon muttered to himself, constantly wiping the blood dripping onto Kaela’s face.

“Sorry, why won’t this come off? Kaela, open your eyes. Look at me. Do you… not want to see me…?”

Perhaps he, too, like his mother, was destined to lose everything, stumble, and set this magic tool room ablaze. Empress Evelyn had set the fire after losing her son and daughter-in-law, and now Peon was setting another fire, losing his wife.

“Kaela?”

As if responding to his gentle voice, oblivious to the chaos outside, her tightly closed, delicate eyelids fluttered.

Her long, thick eyelashes twitched, and her face, illuminated by the flames, moved slightly. Peon held his breath, not even blinking, as he watched Kaela.

She struggled to lift her heavy eyelids. She groaned with the effort.

Even as the heavy fatigue clinging to her body and the sleep clouding her consciousness tried to drag her down into a dark abyss, she fought with all her might. Finally, Kaela opened her eyes and met his gaze with a blurry vision.

“Ah. Kaela.”

My wife. Peon smiled brightly. The dragon, his face stained with dried, black tears of blood, his already black irises elongated vertically, smiled.

Kaela, barely able to hold her head up, was startled. Countless magic tools – a giant mirror, a model depicting celestial bodies, a music box – were ablaze.

“You opened your eyes? I was worried.”

Oh my god. Kaela, who had desperately tried to keep her eyes open, felt her strength drain away. If staying awake was impossible, she would at least try to remain conscious. She couldn’t let it happen again.

But as always, her inherently weak body wouldn’t cooperate.

She realized she had briefly lost consciousness, or at least had fallen asleep from exhaustion. And in the meantime, as always, the irreversible had happened.

Oh. She gasped, her face covered in tears of blood that she hadn’t shed. Her small, trembling hand reached out.

Peon quickly took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. Her weak hand wiped at his eyes. It didn’t wipe the blood away cleanly, but she kept wiping as she spoke.

“I’m not dying.”

It was a whisper so faint it was almost swallowed by the screams of “Fire! Fire! There’s a fire! Get water!” and the crackling of the burning magic tools. But at those words, barely formed by her lips, madness flickered in his vacant violet eyes.

“I’ll never die.”

Kaela, speaking with difficulty, sobbed, her chest heaving.

“Not dying?”

Peon asked, as if mimicking a foreign language.

“I’m not dying.”

No, that wasn’t it. That wasn’t what Peon needed to hear.

“I won’t leave you.”

She shook her head repeatedly.

“Never, never leave you.”

She would fight to survive, she would never leave him.

“Me?”

Yes. You.