TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 50

Sutánlái woke from a chaotic consciousness. He felt a strange, powerful, and fierce force surging within his body. This force was wild and difficult to control, similar to the flow of magic, racing through his limbs and bones, colliding everywhere, causing him sharp pain.

Yet a familiar magic gently soothed this rampaging power, giving him some comfort amidst the agony.

His body was still difficult to move, but his consciousness gradually cleared.

He felt warm raindrops falling on his arms. Only when he listened carefully to the sound beside him did he realize it was tears.

They were the tears of the little deity.

The child named Albin was crying over the death of that male lion.

He suddenly remembered the lion’s last request before dying and also recalled recent rumors in the arena.

It was said that the lion’s caretakers were frequently replaced. Whether they were slaves or hired from outside, they either fled in fear or were killed by the beasts and monsters—none lasted long.

But it was said that a recently recruited child had stayed for quite a while.

That child seemed to be Albin.

Compared to himself, whom the lion had only met once, the little deity clearly cared more for that lion.

And he himself was the one who had caused the lion’s death.

The little deity must hate him deeply now and would no longer care for him.

Sutánlái’s heart sank gradually.

He had thought that, having already been abandoned by everyone, there was nothing left to fear. But hearing that mournful crying made his heart ache in response.

He was destined to be a forsaken man.

Albin’s sobbing gradually subsided. He breathed deeply, wiped away his tears, and with reddened eyes, gave Jacques a slight smile and said, “…Thank you, Brother Jacques.”

Although he was still sad, after crying so hard, he felt the oppressive weight in his heart slowly lift and no longer felt as miserable.

He lowered his head and continued casting his healing magic.

He focused his mind but sensed something was off, murmuring in confusion: “…My magic feels so weak.”

“That’s to be expected.” Jacques relaxed when he saw Albin’s emotions had calmed. “Your magic went berserk yesterday; it hasn’t recovered that quickly.”

“Magic went berserk?” Albin heard the term for the first time.

“It refers to a phenomenon where magic goes out of control due to emotional or other disturbances,” Jacques explained.

He had never seen magic go berserk on such a scale, and judging from the circumstances, this child had many attributes and exceptional talent.

It reminded him of his own gifted friend, and he couldn’t help worrying.

If this child were noticed by the temple…

He fell into thought.

Albin nodded, remembering the new term.

“Wait, ‘yesterday’?!” He suddenly realized something was wrong and looked out the window sharply.

The weather in Thorn City made it difficult to distinguish the time, but the scenery outside clearly showed daytime, while he remembered that the duel had ended at dusk.

Was it already the next day?!

Oh no, Little Black!

Albin’s expression grew anxious. The previous duel had lasted an entire day and night, and he had sent someone to inform Little Black at the smithy that he wouldn’t return immediately. But after yesterday’s duel, he had fainted and couldn’t go home—Little Black must be worried.

Damn it! There are no phones or watches in this world—so troublesome!

“Worried about your family?” Jacques noticed his anxiety. “I can take you back.”

Albin thanked him again. Looking at Sutánlái in front of him, he said to Jacques, “Brother Jacques, can you inform my friend that I’m safe? Tell him I’m here and fine, and I’ll return home right after finishing here. He’s at the smithy in the central district…”

Jacques agreed immediately: “No problem~ I’ll just bring him over. This inn is also in the central district, not far.”

As he spoke, Sutánlái on the bed forced his eyes open and weakly tried to sit up.

Albin hurried to support him: “Ah, why are you getting up before your injuries have healed? You need proper rest!”

“I… I’m fine…” Sutánlái said hoarsely, looking at Albin’s worried expression, enduring the intense pain. “I won’t die. You can go back.”

“But your injuries seem worse than last time.” Albin couldn’t let go of his concern. His own magic wasn’t fully restored, and the healing wasn’t as effective as before.

Since Jacques said the doctor couldn’t help, only magic could heal him. Even if he had to leave, he needed to stabilize Sutánlái first.

“Go back,” Sutánlái repeated firmly, giving Jacques a deep, careful look to judge whether he could be trusted.

He noticed a subtle fleur-de-lis pattern under Jacques’ shirt collar.

“Gray hair, Jacques… You’re the second prince of the Iris Kingdom?”

“Huh? You recognized me?” Jacques scratched his head helplessly. “My brother has long ascended the throne, and I have no real connection to the royal family. Just call me by my name.”

Albin was stunned. Looking at Jacques’ simple attire and unruly aura, he questioned, “You’re a prince?”

Jacques shrugged. “Being a prince isn’t anything special. On this continent, there are 28 countries, and some have multiple princes. For example, the Kingdom of Azalea—the king has dozens of children.”

So many!

Albin was dazed, suddenly feeling that princes were as common as cabbages.

Sutánlái had no intention of exchanging pleasantries with Jacques. His muscles twitched painfully.

“Please take this child back to his family.”

Sutánlái had heard that this Prince Jacques had entered the Sun Temple as a youth and had now become a pledged knight of Saint Zeman, with extraordinary strength.

The title of prince wasn’t rare, but a pledged knight was a special status—once something he had envied.

Now, Sutánlái hated the temple people. But at this moment, compared to himself, the little deity would probably prefer to interact with Jacques.

Albin was kindhearted, and his kindness made Sutánlái unable to ignore him, even now, willing to heal him.

But the one who caused his heartbreak, Sutánlái, dared not harm that kindness again. He should stay away and not trouble him further.

Jacques accepted the request seriously: “Don’t worry, I’ll take him back. But aren’t you going with this child?”

“You go ahead. I’ll leave on my own.”

His gaze lingered on Albin, somber: “I’m sorry.”

Albin was confused: “Why are you apologizing to me?”

Sutánlái, like a guilty dog, couldn’t look into his eyes, lowering his head in shame: “I killed the lion that meant so much to you. You should hate me.”

Albin paused.

“No, the lion told me before that he wished to die in a duel. I couldn’t make it happen myself, so I should thank you instead. Thank you for fulfilling his wish and giving him a satisfying battle.”

This was the lion’s choice of death. Even if he was angry, it was anger at himself for not being able to prevent it, not at Sutánlái.

Even without Sutánlái, the lion would have chosen another strong opponent.

Albin, realizing late, leaned closer and asked: “Is that why you didn’t want to accept my healing?”

Sutánlái remained silent.

“I thought you disliked me.” Albin poked his cheek, fuming. “Dummy! If I hated you, I wouldn’t have helped heal you.”

Sutánlái asked tremblingly: “So… you’ll still care for me?”

“Of course! You need to live well! The lion admired you, and I don’t want you to die. Brother Jacques said you even protected me during the earthquake. Thank you.”

Albin put his hands on his hips: “If you had died too, I’d have regretted not stopping that duel even more.”

Sutánlái couldn’t tell if this was meant to comfort him, but undeniably, his aching heart eased.

He bent down, held Albin’s hand to his forehead, and said: “Thank you.”

“Now… are you willing to accept healing?” Albin asked.

Sutánlái shook his head: “It’s enough for me. I’ll recover slowly on my own. You should go home. I need to leave too.”

More than healing, he knew his biggest problem now was the foreign power in his body.

It was the power of a monster, uncontrollable and dangerous. He feared harming Albin and dared not get too close.

He was strong, and Albin couldn’t restrain him to heal him like he had with Little Black.

“I understand… but if anything happens, or if you get hurt again, you can come find me! I live in the Eastern District. By the way, I never asked—what’s your name? And why did your hair turn orange?”

“I’m Sutánlái. As for my hair…” He lifted a strand and, seeing the orange, was momentarily stunned, then said, “It’s probably the power the lion gave me.”

Albin’s eyes lit up.

“I knew Mr. Lion admired you so much!”

“Sutannlai…” he murmured the familiar name, and his mood brightened instantly.

That name made him realize that everything in the future wasn’t just a dream or his own delusion.

He couldn’t help but feel excited: “Will we meet again next time?”

“Yes,” Sutannlai said firmly, recalling the Lion’s instructions to him. “We will definitely meet again, and I will properly repay you.”

Once he finished his revenge and settled everything, he would take this child with him.

He would make sure his little deity received the treatment he deserved.

Albin laughed: “Then once you’ve healed, you’ll have to treat me to baked apples!”

Albin could hardly wait.

“All right.”

Sutannlai agreed, and as his mood shifted, his expression softened.

He urged Jacques to take the boy away.

Jacques grabbed Albin’s hand, and just before leaving, he hesitated, then whispered: “Uh… I have a question before we go. Do you have any money on you?”

Both slave Sutannlai and orphan Albin froze.

Jacques gave a dry laugh: “It’s like this—my money pouch was stolen by a thief, so I’m broke at the moment. This room was booked on credit; if we leave through the front door, the owner might demand payment. It’s better to exit through the window.”

After he spoke, the two broke men fell silent together.

Sutannlai twitched at the corner of his mouth and glanced at Jacques.

A Knight of Oath having his money pouch stolen up close?!

He began to doubt if he had mistaken the person.

Albin, who had never done anything like going into debt, immediately panicked: “But how can we leave if we owe money…”

Jacques flashed a wide grin and laughed heartily.

“No worries, I pawned my sword to the boss. That sword’s quite valuable, so technically I’m not in debt.”

Sutannlai went silent again.

The knight had pawned his weapon?

Could this guy really be trusted?

Was this the type of person he had once envied and resented?

Sutannlai examined him carefully. As a warrior, he could tell that Jacques still carried some warrior-like bearing.

“…I understand. I’ll repay you later.”

“That’s not important. I’m just reminding you to use the window~ it’d be troublesome if the boss caught us.”

Jacques said, then tucked Albin under his arm and nimbly exited through the window, escorting him home.

Along the way, Jacques kept glancing back.

Albin asked, “What’s wrong?”

Jacques withdrew his gaze and continued walking, guided by Albin toward the blacksmith shop.

“Nothing~”

Jacques stroked his chin thoughtfully.

Huh, that patient kid was secretly following them to escort him. He had already recognized Jacques, yet still seemed suspicious. Did he think this big brother was some shady character?

He frowned and asked softly: “Little brother, do I look like a bad guy?”

“I’m Albin. You can just call me Xiao Bai,” Albin replied. “Of course you’re not a bad guy.”

“The things you said to me before don’t sound like a bad person at all. You were broke yourself, yet you pawned your sword to take care of us, got a doctor for Sutannlai—you’re clearly kind, gentle, and good! You think of your friends, have a good heart, and you’re handsome too! Anyone who could be your friend would be so lucky.”

Jacques froze. His face flushed, and he panicked, covering the corners of his mouth with his hands, eyes darting about.

“Am I really that good?” he began to doubt himself.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Albin looked at him curiously and noticed Jacques’ shy expression.

Hmm? Even adults like to be praised.

Seeing this, Albin continued: “You even escorted me home. You’re warm and reliable—a really great adult!”

He smiled sweetly at Jacques: “Thank you, big brother!”

Jacques clutched his chest, feeling a child’s heartfelt compliment warm him from the inside.

As a prince, Jacques had rarely received praise in the past.

Perhaps because he had always been surrounded by comparisons.

With an outstanding older brother, his childhood was always overshadowed.

For example, when learning swordsmanship, instructors would say: “The Second Prince learns quickly, but the Eldest Prince at your age had already mastered…”

Comments like this ran through all his lessons.

His home life was cold and chaotic. Both the king and queen had lovers, and numerous illegitimate children existed outside. The elder prince, being heir, was five years older, established in status, busy with studies, and had no common ground with him.

With many children and being unfavored, he was never praised, only criticized for being impulsive, undisciplined, or lacking manners compared to his brother.

Jacques knew he could never surpass his heir brother. So, when they suggested he find an attendant for study, he volunteered to enter the Sun Temple.

Sending a non-inheriting second son to the temple as a cleric or knight was a traditional, respectable noble path.

His family agreed without hesitation.

It was the first time he remembered his parents and brother praising him—for being “sensible” and making a “wise decision.”

He had decent talent; though not suitable as a magician, he could easily be a competent warrior.

But the Sun Temple was solemn, with no relaxation like the royal palace.

Even there, he was compared to others.

Because of his princely status, everyone associated him with the perfect prince Edward of the Temple of Love, whom he obviously couldn’t surpass.

And then there was Zeman.

Zeman, their peer, excelled in both theory and practical magic. Every instructor praised Zeman endlessly, so much that it was almost unbearable.

At first, Jacques hated him, never imagining they would accidentally become friends.

Zeman’s skill was undeniable, and everyone wanted his approval.

Even as Zeman’s Knight of Oath, Jacques had never received special praise.

He knew it was because Zeman was introverted, socially reserved, and unaware of such matters. A hint or mention from him would have surely earned a few words of acknowledgment.

But he didn’t want to force it. He felt it would be exploiting the friendship.

In the past, when someone flattered him for being a prince, he felt it praised only the title, not him personally.

He also didn’t consider polite greetings as genuine praise.

Because of these experiences, Jacques longed for real praise.

He liked helping others, just to receive sincere recognition for his actions, unrelated to status or courtesy.

Just like now, he couldn’t help but confirm again: “You really aren’t saying this just because I’m a prince, are you?”

Albin tilted his head: “Hmm? Does it matter that you’re a prince? There are so many princes—do they all help everyone?”

“Not necessarily…” Jacques had heard of some unscrupulous nobles.

“Exactly! I’m praising you, Brother Jacques,” Albin said matter-of-factly.

Jacques’ lips lifted, his face flushed, eyes shining as he looked at Albin.

He couldn’t imagine having such a child in the future; he would be such a happy father.

The blacksmith shop was in the eastern central district, but before they arrived, a voice called out urgently.

“Xiao Bai!”

Albin looked toward the voice and saw Xiao Hei running toward him.

“Xiao Hei!” he exclaimed excitedly, waving his arms.

Xiao Hei ran up like lightning. Seeing Albin’s tearful eyes, he bared his teeth at the gray-haired man holding him—a man with a strange smile.

“Let go of Xiao Bai!” He lunged at Jacques.

An ordinary adult couldn’t block him, but Jacques, though not as strong as Sutannlai, raised his hand and stopped Xiao Hei’s attack.

Jacques felt a jolt of shock, surprised.

Quick, strong—but unrefined, reckless. Overall, the boy was a promising talent.

Then Jacques noticed wisps of strange black energy around Xiao Hei. His gaze narrowed.

“Xiao Hei!” Albin quickly pulled him back. “This is Brother Jacques, the good person who brought me back.”

“I’m sorry, Brother Jacques. Xiao Hei was too worried. I apologize for him,” Albin said, shielding Xiao Hei behind him.

Jacques waved his hand, showing it didn’t matter.

Albin relaxed, turned, and hugged Xiao Hei tightly. A sense of calm came over him. He rested on Xiao Hei’s shoulder, whispering: “I’m back, Xiao Hei. Sorry for worrying you.”

Calmed, Xiao Hei’s black energy vanished. He hugged Albin back tightly, eyes wary of the strange adult before them.

Jacques, curious, asked: “Are you brothers?”

Albin shook his head: “Xiao Hei and I are both orphans, just surviving together for now.”

One was a genius magician, the other… Jacques’ gaze lingered on Xiao Hei.

If he wasn’t mistaken, that was magical energy?

Jacques placed his hand on Albin’s shoulder and smiled: “In that case… may I adopt both of you?”