The Male Lead Is Obsessed With My Health Chapter 194

For the past half year, the mages of the Sky Tower had truly lived to their absolute limit.

With only one goal in mind.

To cure Arellin’s illness.

Mages from different schools abandoned the research they had each been clinging to and focused on a single shared objective.

They pushed themselves beyond what should have been possible—so far that it bordered on madness.

Mages uniting like this was an unprecedented sight, something not seen since the founding of the Sky Tower, and an event destined to be recorded in its history.

“This isn’t unprecedented, you know. There was the research into the Mage God.”

“Ugh, that’s a black mark on our history! That obviously doesn’t count.”

“These research-crazed lunatics are still arguing at a time like this.”

“What’s a ‘research-crazed lunatic’?”

“Someone obsessed with research.”

“But we’re mages—that’s only natural!”

They even resorted to chugging potions as they combed through every text in the Infinite Archive, searching for a way to heal Arellin.
But the deeper they researched, the more despair took hold.

“It’s… too… difficult…”

“There’s no hope with magic…”

“Hey, if someone hears that, they’ll get the wrong idea. Say it properly. At our current level of magic, there’s no chance.”

“That’s basically the same thing.”

They had postured so confidently—telling her not to give up, promising they would find a cure—only to be confronted with a hopeless reality. The mages couldn’t even lift their heads.

To make matters worse, their sworn enemies were growing more brazen, the starlight weakened by the day, and the atmosphere in the Sky Tower sank ever deeper into gloom.

“What about Master…?”

They didn’t want to rely on her like this, but they desperately wanted any help from the Tower Lord and Archmage, Mercedes.

“She hasn’t said anything?”

Whether about the rampaging traitors or Arellin’s treatment, they were starving for guidance.

“Even if we can’t, wouldn’t Master have a chance?”

“Didn’t she take an interest in Miss Arellin?”

“She seemed rather fond of her.”

“Wasn’t she?”

The mages muttered, grasping at straws—but the answer they received was merciless.

“Yeah. She’s disappeared again.”

“Damn it.”

The archmage’s absence, something they would normally ignore, cut unusually deep.

The mages—half zombies after countless sleepless nights—still dragged themselves back to their feet to continue their research.

Because even if there was no solution, giving up simply wasn’t in a mage’s nature.

“…Huh?”

“What is it?”

Hilla, who had been flipping through documents, frowned.

“The materials I left here—where did they go?”

Mehen swallowed dryly.

He couldn’t accept what was happening to him right now.

What… is this?

Why is this person here?

Am I dreaming?

A dream born from desperation?

The fairy race’s inherent detachment, combined with the oppressive presence of a high-ranking mage, made the Archmage feel as though she did not belong to this world at all.

Even without the countless stars embroidered into the robe, he would have recognized her.

There was no way not to.

“……”

While Mehen rubbed his eyes, doubting whether he was dreaming, Mercedes’s gaze remained fixed on the sleeping Arellin.

Mercedes’s eyes narrowed.

Even if she wanted not to know, Cheyen’s presence was impossible to miss.

‘…So he really was here.’

A fragile breath, as though it might snap at any moment, brushed faintly against the heart.

How long had it been since she last felt something like regret?

The Archmage still could not be certain that her choice was the right one.

“W–What did you just say…? No—please take your hand off Arellin.”

Startled, Mehen hurried to pull Mercedes away—then froze.

Light poured from the tips of her long fingers, and Arellin’s expression visibly relaxed.

“Do you not understand?”

Eyes too calm to read rested on Mehen.

“I said I can save this child.”

“……”

A low groan slipped from Mehen’s throat.

Then, suddenly, a hollow laugh escaped him.

Is this really a dream?
After all this time, something this convenient happens now?

“No, it is not an easy method. It requires resolve even from me, and it is not a process a child can endure lightly. It will be extremely painful, and the chances of success are slim. But given the current situation, it is the only way.”

Mehen’s face crumpled.

Of course. Of course it wouldn’t be simple.

“What kind of treatment is it?”

“I cannot explain it.”

“No—”

“Even if I did, you would not understand.”

Mehen wanted to protest, but it was true, leaving him with nothing to say.

“The treatment cannot be performed just anywhere. It will take place within my domain. During that time, you will not be able to see her. Even so, will you proceed?”

There was not a single condition he liked in this proposal, yet—

Perhaps because the one saying it was the Archmage—

It felt like a ray of hope.

The only choice that had appeared in a situation with no answers.

“If I refuse… and leave things as they are…”

“She will die.”

“……”

“She is enduring a fate her young body cannot withstand.”

That she was still alive at all felt like a miracle.

‘So this is how our fates intertwine in the end.’

Mehen frowned repeatedly before finally speaking.

“Why… are you giving us this chance?”

Was this the Archmage’s amusement?

Even under Mehen’s gaze filled with distrust and suspicion, Mercedes spoke calmly.

“Do you believe that a person’s fate and future are predetermined?”

“You mean the Temple’s doctrine of ordained harmony? That the gods have arranged everything?”

“It may sound laughable, but most living beings are swept along by the circumstances and burdens they are born with. They fail to overcome them. We call that fate.”

As if recalling something, Mercedes closed her eyes briefly before opening them again, her gaze detached.

“Even if one surpasses the limits of life and is fortunate enough to attain a higher existence—even if one becomes an immortal who does not die—the same applies.”

“The same… how?”

“The more you know, the more you are entangled, the more bound you become. Have you ever imagined it? An endlessly long, tedious, and exhausting life.”

The life of an immortal, unable to die, was far from as alluring as people imagined.

For living beings, death was motivation to live.

Infinite time, with no need to struggle, ironically stripped life of its value.

The world changes. Time flows. But the time of an immortal does not.

A life too long and isolated from others was often meaningless, and the countless inevitable partings and losses gnawed away at an immortal’s mind.

“There is no existence that can escape this cycle.”

And yet, no law was ever perfect.

The intense yearning of a great existence inevitably influenced the world in some way, and from that—

An anomaly was born.

The Archmage’s gaze returned to Arellin.

“That is why.”

No one could know how a future touched by an anomaly would unfold. Most anomalies were fated to die before they ever bloomed.

Which was precisely why she could not be certain this decision was right.

‘And I have already…’

She had already tasted failure once.

The price of defying fate was never light.

But having failed once was exactly why she could not look away.

From this small life that wished to live.

“Do you know how many people are exerting themselves to save this child?”

She did not mean only the mages who had forgotten day and night in their research.

As an Archmage, she could read the currents entwined around Arellin’s soul and body.

Fragments of countless regressions.

The final blessing of a god.

And even the blessings of the stars.

Just as strongly as fate wished for this child’s death, blessings and prayers wishing for her survival were unmistakably present.

If this world truly had a god, would they not willingly save this child?

“……”

Perhaps because he was a mage, Mehen could not fully follow this abstract, lofty discourse.

But the reason did not matter.

Whatever it was, it was enough.

Because he could feel that this was not an easy decision even for the Archmage.

Clutching at a straw, Mehen nodded.

“Can she be saved?”

“Perhaps.”

“Then… please. I beg you.”

The Archmage nodded.

“Will you take her right away?”

At the regret in his voice, the Archmage looked at Mehen quietly.

After a moment of contemplation, she spoke softly.

“I will grant you time to say goodbye.”

Because even she could not guarantee Arellin’s perfect survival, she believed this time was necessary.

With a simple gesture from the Archmage, radiant light enveloped Arellin’s body. Color slowly returned to her pale cheeks.

“I will return in one week.”