Aurelia didn’t know how she had managed to run back.
Every staggering step pulled at the tearing agony in her abdomen, as if a red-hot branding iron was churning inside her belly.
Her vision was blurred, a persistent ringing filled her ears, and the entire world seemed to sway and spin.
She could only rely on her survival instinct and a vague memory of the direction to the garret, stumbling and staggering through the dim alleyways.
Behind her, she seemed to still feel the lingering, bone-chilling killing intent of Laurence, and his final, unwilling roar.
“Stop! You… bastard…!”
The voice seemed to still echo in her ears, mingling with the wailing night wind, sending chills down her spine.
She didn’t dare look back, didn’t dare stop.
Her lungs were burning, her throat was full of the taste of iron, and her legs felt like they were filled with lead.
The warm flow in her abdomen—that power belonging to the Disaster Source—seemed to be continuously trickling, barely keeping her from collapsing immediately from blood loss and excruciating pain.
But this was no blessing.
It was one of the irrefutable proofs that Laurence had identified her as a “Disaster,” and it was the eerie, terrifying power of the Disaster Source itself.
Finally, the familiar outline of the old building appeared in her blurred vision.
The narrow alley, the mottled walls, and the stairs leading up to the garret.
But before she could take a few more steps, a tall figure suddenly blocked her path, exclaiming in shock, “Holy shit, Liya! What the hell happened to you?!”
Aurelia was startled by the sudden voice and the supporting hand.
Her unfocused pupils struggled to focus, revealing an aged face filled with horror and deep concern.
“M-Mister?”
Aurelia recognized Ragnar, but her voice was broken.
The breath she had been forcing herself to hold dissipated in that instant, and her whole body slumped weakly against the wall.
Ragnar’s eyes widened like copper bells.
By the light of the oil lamp in his hand, he saw the girl’s current state clearly.
Her once pretty little face was now as pale as a corpse, her lips utterly devoid of color, with dark red blood crusted at the corners.
Her body was still trembling violently, uncontrollably.
Her left hand was pressed tightly against her lower abdomen, where the color of her clothes was frighteningly dark, clearly soaked through with blood.
“Mother of mercy!”
Ragnar sucked in a sharp breath and quickly reached out to grab Aurelia’s arm, preventing her from collapsing to the ground.
What kind of person could bear to inflict such severe injuries on a girl like this?
A sickly, weak girl with no money, no power, no background—was she worth that bastard going this far?
“Hey! Liya! Wake up! Look at me! Don’t you dare fall asleep! You hear me? If you sleep now, you won’t wake up!”
Ragnar used his thick arm to steady Aurelia’s limp body against his own while using his free hand to lightly slap her cheek, trying to bring back her fading consciousness.
He could feel her body growing colder, her breathing so faint it was almost imperceptible.
Beneath the slender hand pressed to her abdomen, warm, sticky liquid was still slowly seeping out.
“Hold on, girl! You have to hold on!”
His gaze swept rapidly over Aurelia’s deathly pale face and the horrifying wound. Ordinary bandages and pressure wouldn’t work.
The injury was too severe.
The internal bleeding wouldn’t stop.
Forget waiting to find a Saint; if they delayed even a few more minutes, she would likely breathe her last.
“I was hoping to save a bit of my nest egg… Ah, damn it all! A life’s at stake. Medicine is meant to be used!”
Gritting his teeth, Ragnar fumbled inside the innermost pocket of his coat and pulled out a heavy pouch.
The distinct clinking of gold coins came from within, along with the crisp sound of glass lightly striking metal, hidden among the coins.
With a practiced motion, he quickly retrieved a thumb-sized glass vial from the pouch.
The crystal vial was clear and transparent, containing a liquid that looked like melted emerald.
Even through the crystal stopper, one could vaguely sense a wave of vibrant, life-filled energy emanating from it.
Though extremely faint, just getting close was enough to feel the overwhelming, almost stifling vitality within.
“Girl, you’re lucky. Good thing I always carry this on me!”
Without further ado, Ragnar pulled out the stopper, aimed it at Aurelia’s mouth, and poured half the contents in.
The moment the liquid entered her mouth, a surge of immense vitality rapidly spread through Aurelia’s limbs and entire body.
Unlike the strange, burning sensation when the Power of Calamity repaired her, this potion felt more like a nourishing spring rain, awakening the last vestiges of vitality in her body that had been suppressed by the severe trauma.
In just a few breaths, the color visibly returned to the girl’s face, her breathing became more steady, and the tightly furrowed brow relaxed.
“Girl? Liya? Can you hear me?”
Ragnar leaned closer, hoping to hear a word or two from her, while simultaneously remaining vigilant of any movement around them, in case the bastard who had hurt Aurelia this badly was still pursuing.
However, the moment the potion took effect, he seemed to vaguely sense something else about the girl besides the weakness from her severe injuries—an extremely subtle, discordant aura that made his instincts scream with a chill down his spine.
Just then, Aurelia’s eyelashes fluttered a few times before slowly opening.
Those crimson eyes were still dim, veiled by a mist of pain, but at least they were no longer vacant and unfocused.
With great difficulty, they met Ragnar’s face, which was etched with worry.
She wanted to ask what he had used to save her, but as soon as she opened her mouth, another violent fit of coughing wracked her.
A large amount of frothy, clotted blood surged from her mouth, once again staining her lips and chin, which had just regained a hint of color.
“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing, you silly girl?!”
Ragnar was startled and quickly used his sleeve to wipe the bloody foam still spilling from the corners of her mouth.
“Shut your mouth! Let the medicine work properly! Your internal organs are that badly injured, and you’re trying to talk and cough now? Don’t you value your life?!”
The coughing fit made Aurelia’s vision darken again, but she also clearly felt that after coughing up that clotted blood, her breathing seemed a tiny bit easier.
She blinked weakly, giving a very slight nod to show she understood.
Then, she really closed her eyes, no longer trying to speak or make any unnecessary movements, even deliberately making her breathing light and slow.
The faint trace of life that had just returned to her deathly pale face seemed to dim again after that violent coughing and blood loss.
Her right hand, which had wanted to grab onto something, fell limply onto her body.
She looked as if she had completely lost all vitality.
“Hey?!”
Ragnar’s heart gave a violent lurch, thinking the precious potion’s effects had worn off so quickly, or that the internal injuries were even worse than anticipated.
Alarmed, he quickly patted Aurelia’s cheek a few times, making soft slapping sounds.
“Liya?! Wake up! Don’t sleep! Open your eyes!”
‘It hurts… so much… stop slapping me, mister… let me… just be quiet and hurt for a bit…’
She weakly complained in her mind, but didn’t even have the strength to move her lips.
Because being slapped made it impossible to rest, she had to once again, with immense effort, lift her eyelids.
What met Ragnar’s gaze was a pair of crimson eyes, veiled by a mist of agony and weakness.
Compared to the unfocused gaze from when she was near death, there was indeed a bit more clarity in these eyes now, though they remained dim.
But… the emotion conveyed in that gaze was very clear.
Resignation, exhaustion, and a trace of extremely faint dissatisfaction at being forcibly dragged out of rest.
The look seemed to be silently accusing him of his current actions.
‘Mister, you tell me to shut up and rest, then turn around and slap me awake. What kind of rest is that?’
He was momentarily stunned by that look, his hand frozen in mid-air, ready to deliver another couple of pats.
His old face inexplicably felt a bit warm before he realized.
Though the look was incredibly weak, it at least meant she was truly more conscious.
That blood was probably just clotted; coughing it up might even be a good thing.
The medicine was still working.
She was temporarily out of immediate danger.
As relief washed over him, a mix of embarrassment, lingering fear, and a tiny bit of annoyance at being “disliked” welled up in his heart.
He withdrew his hand somewhat sheepishly, running it through his perpetually styled center-parted hair, muttering under his breath.
“Hah?! You brat, I just used a treasure from the bottom of my stash to save you! Not even a thank you, and you glare at me? I was just worried you might really stop breathing for good!”
Despite his words, his movements involuntarily became much gentler.
The hand supporting Aurelia’s shoulder adjusted its position to let her lean more comfortably.
Looking closely, although the girl’s breathing was still weak, compared to the barely-there wisps from before, it was now much more steady and regular.
Her chest rose and fell with clear movements.
Her face was still deathly pale, but at least her lips were no longer an ashen gray, showing a faint hint of pink underneath.
“Alright, alright. If you can breathe and glare at people, it means your little life is saved for now.”
Ragnar looked at her hesitantly for a moment, then glanced around and scratched his head.
Before he could say anything else, two sets of hurried footsteps came from the stairs leading to the garret.
Ragnar looked up to see a boy around thirteen or fourteen and a girl roughly Aurelia’s age running over, one after the other.
Helen and Rena, hearing the commotion from Ragnar and Aurelia’s violent coughing from the garret, had come down out of curiosity to see what was happening.
“Sister Lia!”
Seeing the scene, Helen jumped down from the edge of the stairs and rushed forward in a few steps to check Aurelia’s injuries.
Rena quickened her pace as well, the worry in her eyes just as deep.
Ragnar glanced at Helen and Rena, then back at Aurelia, his eyes revealing a look that said, ‘Oh ho~ You little minx, hiding people in the employee quarters!’ He then waved at Rena.
“Take her back to rest. I’ve already given her medicine. She just needs to lie down for a day to recover.”
Helen and Rena were stunned for a moment.
Though they didn’t know the full situation, this mister didn’t seem to have any ill intent.
Even if he did, Helen knew he was no opponent he could match.
The Blood Qi emanating from this mister was overwhelmingly powerful compared to his own, who had just barely stepped into the Black Iron Rank.
“Though we don’t know the specifics… thank you for saving her.”
Helen bowed deeply to Ragnar, which made the old mischief of a man pause in surprise before waving it off.
“Yeah, yeah, enough of that. Just feeling charitable for once. Hurry up and take this little girl back to rest! I’ll talk to her boss about her work!”
Without waiting for Helen’s reply, Ragnar stood up and walked toward the alley exit, his tone casual.
“Kid, carry your sister gently. She can’t handle any jostling right now. I’ll keep your secret about you and the other girl living here.”