[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke-Chapter 68: Ferni, the Mother of Ruins

Xion casually strolled until he arrived at the campfire, where the small group had gathered. As they neared the next town, their schedule had become more rigid, more tiresome.

For other though. To Xion, it only gave him more time to learn from the system.

The only thing he disliked was the food. Meals were now served only twice a day. Once in the morning when everyone freshened up and again at night when the horses were settled to rest.

But beggars should not be picky. So, he had stored some snacks in his space to munch on while on the road.

It was early morning, and taking advantage of the moment, Xion had asked Allen to prepare a decoction.

"Brother Allen, how’s it coming along?" Xion leaned over the crouching alchemist’s shoulder, watching as he carefully stirred a bowl of thick purple liquid over the small, low-earthen stove.

The mixture darkened gradually, and its surface rippled with each slow turn of the spoon. Allen barely had time to respond before a loud voice rang out.

"Brother, look! Mine is better!" Noxian waved his tiny hand. His eyes filled with excitement.

"No, teacher, look at this first."

Ah, right. Xion had almost forgotten. Allen had insisted on calling him teacher.

Xion let him be. It was absolutely not because he secretly enjoyed the title, nor because it left him with a strange sense of accomplishment. No, definitely not.

He simply did not have the energy to argue with Allen over it.

"Mine is more according to your description, teacher."

"No, mine is better! Right brother?"

Somehow, Allen and Noxian had become each other’s rivals in alchemy, or should he say medical learning.

What had started as friendly curiosity quickly escalated into a constant competition.

They listened intently whenever Xion taught them something new, only to challenge and test each other the moment the lesson ended. Really like two toppers bickering over their thesis.

In a way, it was for the best. They were learning quicker than expected, and most importantly, they were enjoying it. Xion was more than happy to just let them be.

He peered into Noxian’s pot, then back at Allen’s. Noxian’s mixture was lighter in color which meant it needed more heat.

"That looks like poison."

Xion turned to see Ray walking by, eyeing the dark concoctions with mild disgust.

He was not wrong. The color of the mixture looked straight out of a witch’s cauldron. It had turned inky black and vaguely menacing.

Before Xion could respond to defend his student’s dignity, Allen swiftly flicked a small wooden clipping toward Ray’s feet. It was coated with a layer of mana.

And it didn’t take long for Xion to understand why Allen had done it.

Ray stumbled over the sudden twig that soared past under his feet. Caught off guard, the knight landed face-first into the mud.

For a brief moment, there was silence. Even the hurried servants froze, holding their breath, before skittering off in nervous haste.

"Pfffttt..."

Xion hastily covered his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter as Ray shot a murderous glare in Allen’s direction.

A servant arrived at the perfect time. "Sir Eldritch, Lady Nazia is calling for you."

Ray scoffed, straightened himself with whatever dignity he had left, and stormed off, not before casting one last glare at Allen. "I’ll get you back for this, Alchemist!"

Before Xion knew it, he had started noticing the small habits of the people around him. Like how Ray always lashed out with "Alchemist" when he was irritated, or how Noxian would constantly hum some strange melody when focused on his work.

He sure was blending in just fine, was he not?

Xion didn’t dare laugh aloud until Ray was well out of earshot. The memory of the knight’s tumble still brought a light chuckle to his lips.

Turning back to the decoction, he nodded at Allen’s handiwork. "Alright, it’s coming together nicely."

Then he shifted his focus to Noxian, giving his purple hair a brief pat. "Now, we just need to let it darken a bit more, add the juice of Fixia roots, filter the black residue and cool it until it turns pink."

Allen followed the steps carefully, and before long, a pale pink decoction was ready.

"Good job!" Xion grinned, raising his hand for a high-five.

Allen, now well accustomed to the unusual rituals Xion had introduced, met it with a firm slap.

Spending time with Xion had clearly rubbed off on both Allen and Noxian. They had grown used to his informal way of speaking, his quirky hand signs, and his strange way of doing things.

Things were progressing well, exactly as they should. Or were they?

------

Before dawn, they managed to reach the next town. Unlike the prosperous Uzera city, Ferni was known for its haunting ruins.

The skeletal remains of abandoned houses lined the narrow streets, shrouded in the dimness of the fading evening. Soon, they would be consumed by the oncoming darkness, with no one left to light the lamps in the empty homes.

Most had already fled Ferni, and those who hadn’t were desperate to leave it as soon as possible.

If it were not for the royal summons, urging them, they would not have taken this shortcut either.

Xion had noticed the near absence of people on the roads and streets. The population was sparse which meant the resources were just as limited.

It became even more evident when the night fell. The very earth seemed steeped in melancholy as if Ferni itself had long resigned to its slow decay.

They entered the designated inn and soon Xion noticed the difference. This place was the exact opposite of the previous inn, they had stayed.

The rooms were cramped, with the beds shoved tightly against the walls, leaving barely enough space to move around.

The scent of aged wood and damp fabric clung to the air, and the single candle on the nightstand barely managed to keep the shadows at bay.

Even the ever-composed Allen had a tight frown on his forehead as he inspected the rooms.

Only Xion was still able to smile. With light steps, he trotted over to his assigned room which was on the left side. Rael was on the right side but far from Xion.

There were only a few "luxurious" rooms left, which meant more space, and maybe a few more lamps if they were lucky.

To Xion, however, these cramped chambers held nostalgia. The room looked so much like the studio where he used to live!

The space in these rooms was actually bigger than his old one. As for the dim light, he was not bothered. He was about to sleep, after all, so the lack of brightness hardly mattered.

After inspecting the room, Xion turned to the innkeeper, an old man whose back was hunched by the burdens of his youth. There were hardly a few hairs on his potato-shaped head which could be counted on fingers.

But his stone-grey eyes still give Xion chills.

Curiosity killed the cat, and Xion was well aware of this. But he could not resist the temptation!

If there really were a devil here, Xion was sure he would fall prey in mere seconds. Fortunately, there seemed to be no devil to lead him astray.

Shaking his head at his musing, he approached the old man. "So, I mean," he coughed to clear his throat, "If you don’t mind me asking, why is this place so deserted?"

"It’s a cursed town," the innkeeper muttered under his breath.

He did not look at the customer and continued wiping down the aged wooden counter. "The town lord, he sacrificed a maiden to the bandit master, all for the promise of saving the town from orcs."

He shook his head. His barely there hair jostled with his movement and one strand fell on the counter.

Xion, "..." I should not laugh!

The old man wiped exactly where the hair was, "The lord thought it would be enough to stop the attacks, but the orcs still came, big and small, ravaging what little was left of Ferni."

He leaned in slightly, his weary grey eyes shifting to the dimly lit corners of the inn, as if expecting something, or someone, to be lurking there.

"They say the girl’s ghost still haunts this town," he continued. "Dying like that... she won’t let anyone live in peace until she gets his hands on the town lord."

The candlelight flickered as though in agreement, casting restless shadows against the dark walls.

Then, the golden light danced one last time before sputtering out, leaving behind nothing but darkness.

Suddenly, the cold air swished past Xion’s ears, making his hair at the back of his neck stand at attention.