The Male Lead Is Obsessed With My Health Chapter 321

“Are you all right, Miss Aurora?!”

“Eek—what is happening?!”

The young lady named Aurora writhed in agony, twisting her body so violently that the people around her recoiled in shock.

From her contorted body, I could feel warped mana. As expected—it was a case of mana poison.

I hurriedly examined the teacup and teapot she had been drinking from. At a glance, there was nothing wrong, but I could sense an extremely faint trace of mana.

Just in case, I should try a tiny sip.

For any other mage, it would be suicide—but I trusted my exceptional mana. After all, it was powerful enough to turn me into someone with a terminal condition.

Mana, you’ve tormented me my whole life. Earn your keep for once.

“Ugh.”

The taste and aroma were no different from the tea I’d been drinking. As it spread through my mouth, I felt an infinitesimal amount of mana seep into my body.

At the same time—

Squirm.

The moment the corrupted mana tried to seize my blood vessels, my mana devoured it whole.

…It really is mana poison.

The worst—and best—poison a top-tier alchemist could create.

Why was something like this here?

I narrowed my eyes at the teapot, then turned my attention back to the patient.

“Doctor! Call a doctor!”

“Shouldn’t we call a healer?!”

“I already did!”

“Here—there’s a potion!”

I was going to lose my mind.

The most vicious aspect of this poison was that once ingested, potions, healing magic, and divine magic were strictly forbidden.

Mana poison spread through the bloodstream, devouring the body’s mana and growing like a cancer, permanently damaging the body.

And if you poured even more mana into it using potions or magic? It wouldn’t just worsen—the brain or heart could necrotize in an instant.

“You there—put the potion down! That patient can’t take a potion!”

“Huh? W-what?”

The attendant who was about to administer the potion froze when they realized I was the one giving the order. The uncapped potion trembling in their hand irritated me.

I pushed past the attendant—who looked helplessly between me and their mistress—and approached the patient, checking the rate at which her convulsions were stiffening into rigidity.

Is it already too late?

Even if I intervened, I wasn’t sure I could save her properly. How much of the poison had she ingested? At this level, even survival might leave permanent damage.

And for a noble lady, how devastating would that be?

I don’t know. I’ll save her first.

My hands moved faster than my thoughts. My mana first protected the lady’s heart and brain, then slowly spread through the rest of her body.

I have to extract the mana poison.

In this state, any magic would kill her. The only solution was for a mage to pull out the corrupted mana directly.

“Oh.”

At the sight of my faintly glowing hands, the area fell silent in an instant.

Everyone probably thought I was using some kind of spell.

But this wasn’t magic.

It was pure mana manipulation.

Splitting mana down to the nano level, avoiding interference with another person’s mana circuits, extracting only the corrupted mana into myself and devouring it.

If I had to compare it, it was like scraping out foreign matter wedged into an impossibly tiny crevice—except nothing could be left behind, and the passage itself couldn’t be damaged.

I was completely focused on leaving not a single trace behind when—

Something strange happened.

Hummm—

“…?”

The divinity that had been dormant inside me suddenly stirred and flowed along my mana into the patient’s body.

“…?”

Fwoosh.

The corrupted mana—which should have taken at least ten more minutes of careful extraction and burning—was instantly incinerated by the minuscule amount of divinity that entered her body.

“???”

And then, that remaining divinity began repairing her damaged body.

“Ooooh!”

“Look—Miss Aurora’s color is coming back!”

“Arellin saved her!”

“Is that the effect of healing magic?!”

No.

Healing magic worked by supporting the body’s mana to enhance natural recovery. This wasn’t healing magic.

What… is this?

As I stood there stunned, the remaining divinity dispersed into the air.

Flash.

With that, every trace of corrupted mana still lingering in the area vanished.

“…?”

I’d accidentally destroyed the evidence—but at the same time, faint traces of corrupted mana evaporated from several people’s bodies.

Apparently, there were others who’d consumed small enough amounts not to collapse.

More importantly—

“…What the hell was that?”

Did I… get stronger?

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The tea party ended just like that.

After Miss Aurora collapsed, the doctors and healers who had been summoned did nothing more than check each guest’s condition one by one.

They tilted their heads in confusion at the guests’ unusually healthy and energetic states—but no one knew why.

Except me.

“I’m exhausted.”

As soon as the tea party ended, I stopped by the Mage Tower to report the existence of mana poison.

The Mage Tower—peacefully researching [Gates]—was thrown into chaos almost instantly.

Because the raw ingredient for mana poison was… a mage’s blood.

A lot of blood.

To put it into perspective: just as rose otto requires thousands of roses to extract a single gram, even a minuscule amount of mana poison required the blood of over thirty mages.

Naturally, it was a forbidden art—both sale and manufacture prohibited—and mandatory to report upon discovery.

And in the middle of all that, I even ran into Sir Zilo and heard about Madam Olivia.

I suggested she come visit the estate comfortably instead, but she refused, saying that having someone who had returned from death might bring bad influence.

“Hm.”

Then, after returning to the estate, I heard something even more alarming—Madam Olivia’s carriage had been attacked again on her way back.

“What is going on?”

Even if she’d been passing through back alleys, was it normal to be attacked five times in one day in the middle of a major city?

I immediately asked Mehen to ensure Madam Olivia was assigned an escort every time she went out.

Even while turning the annex basement upside down, Mehen listened to me seriously.

“But what’s even down there?”

“That’s not something you need to know, Arel.”

“A secret space just for Dad and you or something?”

“……”

Mehen clenched his teeth, looking like he really wanted to scold me, and warned me in a trembling voice.

“One more… joke like that, and I’ll scold you no matter who you are.”

“Yes, sir.”

Probe failed.

Mom, I’m scared.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The moment the imperial ball ended, Mehen pressured Valer into tearing apart every basement in the estate, cleaning them, and even holding memorial rites.

Everyone in the household wondered what could possibly be down there to warrant all this, but Mehen exercised his right to remain silent and carried on.

There was only one reason.

Mehen didn’t want to live in a house where this kind of thing still remained.

And he absolutely didn’t want to feed, dress, or let Arellin sleep in a place like that.

“Ha… to think I lived in a house like this.”

“If you hate it that much, let’s move.”

“You little—someone who won’t lift a finger wants to move? Do you know how much luggage a family like Halbern has?”

“Then we’ll just buy everything new.”

“How do you buy new incoming reports?!”

Mehen hurled a fountain pen filled with killing intent, but Valer caught it easily.

“That’s why I told you it’d be better not to know anything about this place.”

“You’re the one who said it was an interesting story and told me first.”

Valer smiled lightly at Mehen’s fury.

Trying to get away with things using his face when cornered—that habit again. Mehen threw the pen once more in retaliation.

“Ow.”

This time, Valer deliberately let it hit him and pretended it hurt.

Mehen hated it every time Valer did that—especially since he could easily dodge it. And yet, part of him still softened.

That’s probably why he does it.

“So what have you been staring at this whole time?” Mehen asked.

“Hm? Oh. This.”

The documents spread out before Valer were of several kinds.

“Quarterly reports from the Northern Fortress.”

“Oh, from the Saren Order?”

“Yeah. Thought they were all dead, but apparently they’re still alive.”

At the cold, dry assessment, Mehen unconsciously turned to look at Valer.

Was that really something to say about knights who’d fought on the front lines alongside him and been left behind?

With an uneasy expression, Mehen pointed to another document.

“And the others?”

“An interesting report.”

“?”

Ignoring Mehen’s questioning look, Valer read the final page of the document he’d picked up.

It detailed the various incidents Arellin had experienced during her recent outings—and who was behind them.

Gremwart…

Valer’s gaze turned icy.

“Interesting. Is self-destruction their hobby or something?”