svetikya Chapter 232 Teasing and "Digestion"
Chapter 232 Teasing and "Digestion"
Chapter 232 Teasing and "Digestion"
"this.."
Seeing Lorne cough violently and then collapse to the ground, Hugh and Fors were both stunned for a moment. They looked at each other, their eyes filled with confusion.
After a two-second silence, Hugh was the first to react. Almost instinctively, he rushed forward, knelt on one knee, and began to check on Lorne's condition.
"How is he? Is he alright? Is he okay?" Fors also came over, her tone filled with worry and urgency.
Hugh didn't answer immediately. She reached out her finger and carefully placed it under Lorne's nose to check his breath, then moved to his neck to feel his pulse.
After a moment, she breathed a slight sigh of relief and looked up at Fors, saying, "It seems—she just fainted."
Fors's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally settled. She took a few steps closer and, in the dim light, examined Lorne's pale and unfamiliar face, her brows furrowing involuntarily. "His face just now—something felt off to me."
The moment Lorne appeared, Fors felt something was off about his face, but the light was dim and the situation was urgent, so she couldn't see clearly. She just felt a strange sense of familiarity.
"Perhaps there's something wrong with his disguise," Hugh said thoughtfully. She stood up and explained, "Fors, he's the one who performed the exorcism for me at the party last time. He seems to be able to change his appearance."
"It's him?" Fors's eyes widened slightly.
"Hmm." Hugh nodded. Because Lorne had mentioned it before, she wasn't entirely unprepared for the possible change in his expression.
"Is that so—" Fors muttered to himself.
The explanation was very reasonable, but she still had an unrealistic idea in her mind.
The kind of romantic fantasy that only exists in novels—being miraculously saved by a pen pal at the last moment when you're on the verge of losing control and falling into the abyss—isn't that the kind of "male protagonist who falls from the sky" plot you only see in novels? If I could actually experience it in person, let alone losing control, even turning into a monster on the spot would seem worth the price of admission!
However, the thought only lasted a few seconds before she dismissed it herself.
However, that possibility is so low, almost like a fantasy. Could it be that he just happened to appear right after I lost control?
The probability of this coincidence is almost zero.
Fors sighed softly to herself, tucking those complex emotions mixed with girlish fantasies back into her heart.
"We can't let him just lie there on the floor, it's too cold." Hugh's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Fors, come and lend a hand."
"Heave-ho!"
With a bit of effort, the two of them lifted Lorne by the shoulder and the leg, and finally managed to move the heavy-bodied man onto the sofa next to them.
"What about that—the worm?" Fors pointed to the worm on the ground.
"Let's cover him up first, and we'll talk about it when he wakes up."
"Please don't let anything happen to you—" Hugh looked at the unconscious Lorne with a worried expression.
She stared at Lorne for a while, and seeing that his breathing was steady and he seemed to really just be asleep, she turned her head and looked at Fors with a serious look she had never seen before:
"Fors, how long has this been going on?"
Fors instinctively wanted to shake her head, but when she saw Hugh's red and moist eyes, and the lingering fear and apprehension within them, she finally nodded honestly and whispered, "...It's been a while."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner!" Hugh's voice suddenly rose, filled with barely suppressed sobs and reproach. "Do you know how scared I was?! If you—if you really turned into a monster, I—"
"I...I was just afraid you'd worry," Fors's voice was barely audible.
"Afraid I'd worry? Do you even consider me a friend?!" Hugh completely broke down, tears streaming down his face. "If we'd arrived a moment later, if you—·If you—"
She choked back tears, unable to utter the rest of her words.
"I'm sorry, Hugh. I'm so sorry—" Fors stepped forward and hugged her distraught friend tightly, letting her sob uncontrollably in her arms. She gently patted her back, "I'm alright now—see, I'm alright now...."
Meanwhile, at the other end of Backlund.
Looking at Leonard, who was kneeling on the ground and breathing heavily, Klein, hidden behind his mask, curled up a tired smile.
"Flame Stream" provides cover, "Flame Leap" creates distance, and "Paper Doll Substitute" absorbs damage.
With a smooth and fluid maneuver, coupled with various talismans issued by the society, a well-prepared "magician" is virtually invincible in head-on battles against opponents of the same rank.
"Damn it!" Leonard wiped a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth, looking quite disheveled.
The masked man in front of him had a fighting style that was utterly "dirty," with all sorts of bizarre and outlandish items appearing one after another. Moreover, the opponent seemed to be extremely familiar with his own fighting style, with every attack and dodge being highly targeted. In a one-on-one situation, he was indeed no match for him.
"Old man, think of something quick! This guy is too troublesome!"
"An old man?"
Leonard lowered his voice, anxiously calling for help from his inhabitant inside him. However, no matter how much he called out in his mind, the old man seemed to be completely asleep, offering no response and unusually remaining silent.
"No, I absolutely cannot back down." Leonard gritted his teeth and shakily stood up again.
He may be a bit lazy in general, but when it comes to upholding the reputation of the Church of the Night, he's tougher than anyone else.
Seeing Leonard's defiant and resolute expression, Klein clenched his fists.
Since that's the case, Leonard, I guess you'll just have to sleep for a while.
Just as he was about to make his move...
"Da, da, da."
A clear and steady set of footsteps came from afar, instantly attracting their attention.
The moment Leonard saw who it was, his face lit up with undisguised joy, while Klein's heart sank to the bottom.
He recognized the person who came; it was none other than Kreste Cecima, the "Sword of the Goddess," who had come to Tingen to investigate him!
Oh no, why is he here?
Klein's mind went blank for a moment. He knew that this high-ranking deacon of the church was someone who could rival a Sequence 4 demigod. His appearance almost certainly meant that he had no chance of escaping tonight.
Just as Klein was stunned, Leonard suddenly made his move!
He seized this fleeting opening, suddenly unleashing all his strength as he lunged forward. Klein instinctively dodged to the side, but was still a beat too slow.
"Bang!"
A heavy punch landed squarely on his mask.
"Click—"
The pure white mask shattered instantly, scattering fragments everywhere.
!!!
However, when Leonard saw the face behind the mask, his subsequent attack suddenly froze.
It was an ordinary face, yet it carried a hint of weariness, but there was a strange sense of familiarity about it.
Not good!
Klein's alarm bells rang, and he immediately raised his hand to cover his face.
"Stop struggling, you can't escape!" Leonard suppressed his surprise and roared as he attacked again.
What to do—there's really no escape. A chill ran through me.
With the arrival of the "Sword of the Goddess," Irene and the others are likely in grave danger—once I am captured, the charge of "traitor" will be firmly established.
Being locked inside the Chanis Gate and never seeing the light of day again is the best outcome; otherwise, they might be purified on the spot or turned into a sealed artifact.
Just as Klein was frantically thinking of a solution, feeling utterly hopeless about his life.
Don't be afraid.
A deep, hoarse, yet exceptionally gentle voice suddenly rang in his ear.
Immediately afterwards, a bronze hand reached out from the void without warning and gently pressed down on his arm.
The next second, the world in front of Klein's eyes twisted and stretched, and he seemed to be pulled into a strangely colored ripple.
!!!
As Leonard watched his living target disappear before his eyes, his pupils suddenly contracted, while Cecima, who was rushing over from afar, and several obscure gazes around the warehouse fell into a brief silence.
Lorne's eyelids twitched a few times, and he managed to open them a crack.
He was greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling, and the air was filled with the mixed scent of books and black tea. He could feel himself lying on a sofa, covered with a thin blanket that had a faint fragrance.
Why did he faint?
Memories of madness, crimson moonlight, shattered glasses, and the bizarre worm that was spat out surfaced in his mind one after another.
What he didn't know was that at that very moment, the monocle made of crystal, the cufflink used for disguise, the words of a certain angel king, and Fors's prayer, in a specific environment, unexpectedly formed a peculiar mystical element that directly impacted him.
"...So that's how it happened! So that's how you met him!"
A woman's voice, brimming with barely suppressed excitement, entered Lorne's ears, pulling him back from his chaotic thoughts.
It's Fors.
"This...this is something you could never even imagine in a novel! It's so romantic!"
"Indeed, reality is the best writer." Fors excitedly shook Hugh's shoulder, her eyes shining as if she had discovered a treasure. "The details? Tell me the specific details! This is fantastic inspiration!"
Her writer's instincts had completely taken over, and she was worried about not having any inspiration for her next book!
"A noble lady in distress encounters a mysterious and powerful extraordinary individual during her escape. The two meet by chance and fall in love during their adventures—Good heavens, I've already figured out how to write my next book!"
"Wait, Fors, what nonsense are you talking about!" Hugh's voice instantly rose, her cheeks flushing crimson at a visible speed. She was always very sensitive about these kinds of things.
"I knew I shouldn't have told you anything. Humph!" Hugh pretended to be angry, trying to hide his embarrassment.
"Huh~" Fors drawled, leaning closer to her and winking mischievously, "Are you shy?"
"Didn't you already keep watch over him all night? You wouldn't even go and rest," Fors said, crossing her arms and continuing to tease, "He was helping me, so if anyone should be keeping watch, it should be me."
"I invited him here, and it's my responsibility to ensure his safety." Hugh tried to remain calm, but his cheeks inexplicably felt hot.
"Oh~ is it really just 'responsibility'?" Fors deliberately raised her voice, laughing like a cat that had just stolen some fish.
"Ahem!"
A hoarse cough suddenly came from the sofa.
"Ladies, could you please refrain from making sarcastic remarks in front of them?"
Lorne, rubbing his throbbing forehead, slowly sat up.
The two ladies stopped talking and looked over at each other.
Thankfully, there were no major health problems. Lorne secretly sensed that he hadn't been attacked or tied up, which meant that these two people were indeed trustworthy—but, do writers all have such wild imaginations? Thinking of Fors's passionate plot ideas just now, Lorne felt speechless.
"Um, are you alright? Is anything bothering you?" Hugh was the first to react and asked with concern.
"It's alright, but—" Lorne glanced at the rather cramped sofa beneath him and teased, "I've helped you guys so much, and you can't even afford to let me sleep on a bed?"
"Ah—this..." Lorne's sudden complaint caught Hugh off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless. "I—·that—."
Just as Hugh was looking down, fidgeting with his fingers, hesitating and unsure how to answer, Fors suddenly brightened up and said with a smile, "Sir, may I take that as you being very interested in my friend's bedroom?"
Upon hearing this, Lorne raised an eyebrow and glanced at Hugh, who was practically burying himself in embarrassment beside him. Suddenly, a mischievous thought arose in his mind. He followed Fors's words, a slight smile playing on his lips: "More or less."
"Oh~" Fors drew out her voice, and she made a "please" gesture, "I can take you on a tour!"
"Hey! What are you two talking about?!" Seeing the two of them acting like a married couple, Hugh finally couldn't help but growl in embarrassment and anger.
"Alright." Lorne composed himself and got down to business. "Do you still have my things?"
"Yes, it's here." Fors handed him the playing card and the somewhat broken monocle from the coffee table next to him.
Lorne took it and gave it a cursory inspection. When he saw the fine cracks on the lens, his brows furrowed slightly.
He briefly inquired about the circumstances following his fainting spell, then turned his gaze to Fors, his expression serious, and asked, "When did those signs of loss of control begin? How long have you been in your cultivation journey? Have you finished digesting the potion?"
"Digestion?"
Fors paused, the word sounding unfamiliar to her. She instinctively glanced at Hugh, only to find him looking equally bewildered.
She asked hesitantly, "—What does 'digestion' mean?"
"what?"