Chapter 141 - 97 : Awake (1)

Chapter 141: Chapter 97 : Awake (1)

The question came quietly.

He already knew the answer. This was simply who he was. If he saw someone helpless, he could not accept the thought of standing by and watching them be left to their fate. It was not something he had to think about or reason through. It was simply a principle he had carried with him for as long as he could remember.

That should have been enough.

Yet with his own life hanging by a thread, Lucian could not help wondering if there had been something more behind his decision tonight.

Perhaps seeing the stranger surrounded by wolves had reminded him of the men who had stayed behind for him, and somewhere in that moment, he had simply refused to leave another person behind. Maybe there was no deeper reason than that. Whatever the reason, he did not regret it.

He looked down at his arm. The old strip of cloth wrapped around the wound was soaked through with blood.

"First I get ambushed."

He muttered the words under his breath, staring at the makeshift bandage.

"then bitten by a wolf."

A tired, humorless breath escaped him.

Lucian reached for the wrapping and carefully tried to loosen it. The cloth had already stuck to the dried blood around the wound. He hesitated, then slowly began pulling it away.

Pain shot through his arm.

He sucked in a sharp breath and immediately stopped, his fingers tightening around the cloth.

"Ah!"

He waited a moment, then tried again, peeling the fabric away little by little. This time, he managed to free it from the wound, but the sudden pull sent another sharp burst of pain through his arm.

Lucian’s face tightened as he looked down at the wound.

"Damn... that hurts like hell."

He looked down at the bite. The wound was ugly. The wolf had torn through the skin rather than simply puncturing it, leaving several deep marks across his arm, with dried blood clinging to the edges.

Lucian grimaced and reached for another damaged section of his robe. He needed something clean enough to wrap the wound, but the wet fabric resisted his fingers as he tried to tear a strip away. He pulled harder, bracing himself as the cloth finally gave with a rough rip.

The sudden release nearly threw him off balance.

Lucian steadied himself and stared at the torn strip for a moment before turning back toward the cave entrance.

He crouched beneath the overhang and held the cloth out into the rain. Clear water soaked through the fabric, washing away the blood that had stained it. He rinsed it several times, squeezing it between his fingers before holding it under the rain again. It was not much, but it was better than wrapping the wound with a blood-soaked piece of cloth.

Once the strip was as clean as he could make it, Lucian placed his arm beneath the rain. The water struck the bite, and he flinched as the sting spread through the torn skin. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep his arm there, enduring the pain until most of the blood and dirt had been washed away.

When he finally pulled his arm back, he squeezed the remaining water from the cloth and carefully wrapped it around the wound. It was far from a proper bandage, but he pulled it tight enough to slow the bleeding.

Lucian flexed his arm slightly.

Pain shot through the wound, but it was manageable.

Lucian looked at the remaining torn fabric in his hand. He tore several more strips from the damaged robe, each one taking a little more effort than the last. His fingers were tired, and his injured arm ached with every movement, but he kept going until he had enough. He rinsed the pieces beneath the rain and wrung them out before gathering them in his hand.

These were not for him.

His thoughts turned toward the stranger lying deeper inside the cave, still unconscious in the darkness. Judging from the condition he had been in when Lucian found him, simply having a place to rest would not be enough. If the man was going to make it through the night, his wounds would need proper care.

Lucian glanced back toward the rain outside and remained there for a moment, listening to it fall. Then his gaze returned to the darkness of the cave.

"Let me see to those wounds."

He returned inside.

As he moved deeper into the cave, his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness. The faint light from the entrance faded behind him, but it was enough for him to make out the uneven walls and scattered stones around him. Then he noticed the dried vines clinging to one side of the rock.

Thin and brittle, they had been sheltered beneath the stone and escaped most of the rain. Lucian reached out and tested one between his fingers before snapping it free. It broke easily.

He gathered several more, then searched farther along the wall until he found a few dry branches tucked beneath a rocky ledge. They were small, but dry enough to burn. He collected them as well and carried everything back toward the place where he had left the stranger.

Once he had gathered enough, Lucian began searching the ground for suitable stones. He chose several that were flat enough to support the small fire and arranged them into a rough circle. His injured arm throbbed with every movement, making even the simplest task more difficult, but he worked around the pain as best he could.

He placed the driest vines and smallest pieces of wood at the center, leaving enough space for air to reach the kindling. Then he crouched over the arrangement and began working at it.

Starting a fire with one good hand was harder than it looked.

He struck one stone against another.

Nothing.

He tried again, adjusting the angle before striking once more. A tiny spark appeared among the dry vines, then vanished.

Lucian exhaled sharply.

"Come on."

He shifted his grip and tried again. His injured arm trembled with the effort, but he ignored it and struck the stones once more.

This time, a small spark caught.

Lucian immediately leaned closer and blew gently over the vines. A thin thread of smoke curled upward. He kept blowing, careful not to smother the weak ember, until it began to glow beneath the dry material.

Then a small flame appeared.

Lucian paused.

The tension in his face eased, and a tired smile touched his lips.

"Finally."

He carefully fed the flame with more dried vines and small pieces of wood, adding them gradually as the fire strengthened. It took a little time, but the flame slowly grew, its light beginning to push back the darkness around him.

It was far from an impressive fire, but the warmth was enough to matter. 𝘧𝓇ℯℴ𝓂

Lucian settled beside it and stretched his hands toward the heat. The warmth slowly reached his cold fingers, and he let out a quiet breath.

He breathed in.

Then out.

For a while, he said nothing.

The cave seemed to settle around him, filled only by the soft crackle of the fire and the steady rain falling outside.

Beyond the cave entrance, rain continued to fall over the forest. Inside, the sound was different. The stone walls muted the downpour, turning it into a distant, continuous wash, broken now and then by sharper drops striking the rock near the entrance. Some of the sound travelled deeper into the cave, returning as faint echoes.

Lucian listened.

After everything that had happened that night, the steady rhythm was strangely calming.

He looked at the clean strips of cloth beside him, then toward the stranger lying deeper inside the cave. Until now, he had barely had a chance to think about how little he actually knew about the man.

Lucian pushed himself up and crossed the cave slowly.

The stranger was still unconscious.

Up close, Lucian realized how little he had actually been able to see in the chaos outside. The rain had been pouring, darkness had covered the forest, and the wolves had surrounded the crater before he ever had a chance to look properly. All he had seen was a wounded man lying in the mud, barely moving, with a pack of wolves closing in around him.

That was all.

He had not stopped to examine him. There had been no time. He had simply seen someone who needed help and acted.

But now, with the immediate danger behind him, Lucian could finally look properly.

He stopped beside the stranger.

The man’s clothes were still torn and stained dark with blood. But beneath the damaged fabric, the skin was...

Lucian frowned and looked again. The injuries he remembered were gone. The deep cuts, the torn flesh, even the smaller wounds he would have expected after finding the man lying in the crater, soaked by the rain and later carrying him through the forest.

There was nothing.