His Breeding Obsession – Chapter 185

Author: Nikss

Grecan’s body continued to transform, melting like mud and then being reshaped, over and over.

The pain of being alive while his body melted in a furnace relentlessly assaulted him.

‘I miss you, Mirania.’

How much time had passed?

…Somehow, it feels like you’re by my side.

Is it an illusion?

His heart raced. He felt so sad that he could cry. Why did he feel like crying when his heart was so full of joy?

‘Do you think it’s easier for me to watch you suffer like this? Foolish Grecan.’

Grecan realized that this emotion wasn’t his own. The heart connected to hers was crying out in joy.

‘I wish I could speak.’

He twitched his neck. His melted vocal cords couldn’t produce sound. Grecan thought with a regretful expression.

If only I could speak, I could reassure her.

‘Don’t worry. I won’t die. I’ll never die and leave you behind.’

The golden gate rattled. Grecan’s hand tightly gripped the latch.

Though the pain surged, he never released the latch. If the gate opened, this pain would flow to her.

All the suffering and agony are mine alone.

His forehead burst open. With a face swollen with veins, Grecan laughed loudly.

💫

The corner of Grecan’s mouth twitched slightly as if he were smiling.

Mirania’s eyes widened. The tears that had pooled in her eyes fell and wet Grecan’s lips.

Blood endlessly flowed from Grecan, who was decomposing countless times.

It soaked the bedsheet, and the mattress, and even formed a pool of blood beneath the bed.

Blood is the source of life. Her assumption that recovery would slow after losing so much blood was correct.

The time it took for Grecan’s body to turn black was growing longer.

It was proof that his recovery couldn’t keep up with the rate of decomposition.

Mirania caressed Grecan’s cheek and kissed his forehead, which was covered in pus and blood.

“I can’t leave you to suffer alone.”

She raised her head, and her gaze fell on her wrist. She straightened her back and looked around. A vase on the windowsill caught her eye.

One day, Grecan had come to the crystal room carrying an elegant white vase.

[The flowers are pretty, right? This time, I didn’t pluck them. I brought them alive.]

Grecan was smiling brightly at the blooming purple flowers. Though she had been too shy to say it at the time.

Mirania picked up the vase and looked at Grecan.

“That was quite lovely.”

She dropped the vase to the floor.

Crash!

She bent down and picked up the sharpest shard.

“I will do what I can do.”

The tip of the shard gleamed sharply. She aimed it at her wrist and, without hesitation, stabbed it in.

💫

A week had passed.

Mirania had locked the door of the crystal room and stayed by Grecan’s side.

Grecan was still covered in blood, but the blood soaking his body wasn’t just his own.

Drip—

Drops of blood fell onto his lips one by one.

As the rate of the blood dripping slowed, Mirania cut her skin over the wound again.

The knife was a tool that could draw blood faster than the vase shard. She had been caught by Malandor while bringing the knife and had endured some trouble, but that was hardly a concern now.

Mirania focused solely on sending her blood into Grecan’s body.

There seemed to be some progress, as his recovery speed was increasing.

The potency of the essence’s poison had weakened accordingly. She licked her dry, pale lips with her tongue and let fresh blood drip onto Grecan’s lips.

The blood seeped through the slight gap between his lips. Her head spun.

Staggering, she pressed a hand firmly against her throbbing forehead. Her arm, which had been bleeding for a week, was tattered, and she felt like she might collapse at any moment from lack of sleep. But she couldn’t stop, not when she could see him improving.

She stared at Grecan through half-closed eyes. Her vision was blurry.

Was it an illusion?

No. As his face came into focus, Mirania strained her eyes.

Suddenly, his lips moved.

A twitch. She set the knife down and watched him. His eyelids trembled.

They parted slightly.

The dried pus and blood cracked as his eyelids opened a fraction. A glimpse of white sclera and black pupils appeared. Just a sliver.

Yet, Mirania couldn’t move.

It was the first time she had seen Grecan’s eyes since she had collapsed.

His pupils, not fully open, moved closer to her.

The lifeless black eyes sparkled for a moment, as if in recognition.

Mirania bit her lip hard. Something heavy filled her throat, making it hard to speak.

“Ah…”

Mirania focused her hearing.

Grecan seemed to struggle to speak, growling for a while before finally stammering out a single word.

“Mi… Mirania.”

Tears welled up, choking her voice.

“Yes. I’m here.”

“Y-your… body… is it… okay? Are you… in pain?”

Mirania closed her eyes tightly, then opened them. Grecan was watching her. She lowered her arms so Grecan couldn’t see them.

The wound that started at her wrist extended to her elbow, so if she raised her arms even slightly, he would notice.

She didn’t want him to see.

Stupid, foolish Grecan would worry about her even as his own body was dying.

She nodded. Afraid that Grecan might not see clearly, she moved her parched tongue.

“I’m not in pain at all.”

Her voice crackled like a brittle leaf about to be crushed underfoot.

The corner of Grecan’s mouth twitched slightly. It looked like he was trying to smile, but his facial muscles wouldn’t obey.

“Th-that’s… good.”

His fragmented words and labored breathing grated against her eardrums.

Mirania found it hard to breathe. It wasn’t because of the lingering dark energy.

It was just… suddenly hard to breathe. Her heart felt like it was being torn apart.

“It hurts.”

Confusion flickered in Grecan’s eyes. Mirania whispered in a voice thick with emotion.

“My chest hurts, Grecan.”

“…”

“It’s hard to see you like this.”

Mirania, muttering as if exhausted, felt a dam break inside her, and a flood of emotions surged out.

Was this what you meant?

When you said I could kill you if I wished, was this what you meant?

She clutched at her chest. Her heart felt more constricted than ever before.

Over the week, while nursing Grecan, Mirania had come to understand the true nature of the Red Flower’s curse.

The net of the heavens is sparse, but it never misses.

Grecan was an ‘impossible’ existence, one that could ruin the world.

A variable in the world. The mechanism to keep such a being from running rampant was none other than herself.

Grecan, shackled by the chains of his connection to her, could not escape the net of the heavens.

A strong bond connects heart-to-heart. Mirania felt a surge of frustration.

“Was the side effect of the Red Flower, the curse of the Red Flower, this connection of hearts?”

Grecan stared at her with his murky, melting and reforming corneas.

‘Ha, haa—’

His ragged breathing subsided, and he whispered softly.

“It’s not a curse. It’s a blessing.”

The strength drained from Mirania’s hand as she clutched her chest.

Placing her hand on the bedsheet, Mirania slumped into the chair.

Grecan’s lips twitched repeatedly. Though his face wouldn’t move as he wished, she could imagine his clear, smiling face.

Mirania spoke with deep emotion.

“You’re so foolish and frustrating.”

“…”

“You cling to my life so grotesquely, and now you’ve even bound my heart. Do I need your permission to die?”

“I… I won’t let you die… before I do.”

Mirania stared intently at Grecan. He blinked several times, as if struggling to stay conscious.

Her heart swelled.

‘What kind of emotion is this?’

Love?

They say love is the ability to feel happiness, anger, sorrow—every emotion that exists in the world.

Is this love? This feeling like my chest is about to burst, this strange state—is this love?

If so, then all who love are truly great beings.

Those who endure this feeling of their heart about to explode deserve applause. Her once calm, lake-like heart was overturned, the sky and earth flipped, and nothing felt stable.

In this bizarre sensation of not being herself, Mirania forced out each word with effort.

“Don’t die, Grecan.”

“…”

“If you die, I won’t forgive you.”

Grecan smiled faintly. Then, slower than a turtle, he reached out and covered the back of her hand with his.

“I won’t die.”

“…”

“I won’t die… and leave you behind.”

His voice faded faintly.

“So don’t worry.”

Thud— His eyelids fell completely shut.

Mirania turned her hand over and placed her palm on his. If only I knew how. If only I knew how you took my pain.

“Rather…”

Her voice scattered like a sigh. Grecan, unconscious, gave no response.

Mirania’s eyes twisted. She never dreamed she would miss his words, his persistent gaze, his deliberate movements.

“I’d rather… I’d rather be the one in pain. Not you, but me.”

Bowing her head, Mirania rested her forehead on his chest.

The foul stench of rotting blood rose, but she didn’t pull away.

[If Lady Mirania is curious, then I am too. What is love?]

[If I had to name one thing, it would be sacrifice.]

[Sacrifice? Like a parent willingly throwing themselves into the water to save their drowning child?]

[Yes. Sacrifice is also the desire for the other to not suffer, even if it means you do. The act of sacrifice is something you can only willingly do for someone you love.]