[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke-Chapter 191: Mana Chemotherapy and Transplantation

Xion knew this was going to be difficult. Convincing Darius was one thing, but Allen and especially Ray?

That was an entirely different beast. Still, they didn’t have any other choice.

"I know what you’re thinking." Xion glanced between the two men. "And that’s exactly why I’ve been working so hard to put some flesh and strength back into him," he said while pointing to the lethargic archduke.

Just remembering all the effort he’d poured into preparing nutritious meals for His Grace, only to end up here, made Xion’s lip twitch in frustration.

So much so that he dropped the formalities and snapped, "I cooked all that for nothing, and now you are still this weak."

"But teacher ... it is not feasible at all."

The alchemist had always believed in Xion’s talents. But when it came to the archduke’s life, Allen wasn’t willing to place any reckless bets.

"It is." Xion glanced directly at His Grace, who, despite clearly understanding the weight of the situation, was still lazily watching him.

"Your grace, we have to follow two courses. One is to drain all of your mana, and the next is to infuse it with purified mana."

"Okay."

One word was said with so much calm and certainty that the tent fell silent.

Xion, who had mentally prepared a dozen arguments to persuade him, ended up swallowing them all in stunned silence.

But of course, Ray wasn’t as easily silenced.

"What the hell do you mean by draining all his mana?!" he burst out, looking ready to lunge at someone. "You want to drain the only thing keeping him alive. How is that different from murder?!"

His fists clenched. His voice cracked under the weight of worry. How could he not be scared? He understood the risks better than most.

Mana flowed like blood. It was directly tied to life itself. If drained past a critical threshold, the body would suffer. Internal collapse, coma and then... death.

And Xion had just said it so casually. All of it.

"I won’t kill him. I would never." Xion sighed. "Look, if we don’t do that, his grace will die anyway. At least let me try it. Or do you have a better way?"

Ray stayed silent. If he had a better way, he would have done so a long time ago.

"How are you going to do that?"

Darius asked, and both Ray and Allen could only keep their mouths shut. As long as his grace wished to do something, no one could stop him.

Xion’s hand paused over the parchment, but he didn’t look away from his grace.

"If my mana connects with someone else’s, it’ll explode," Darius continued, tone almost bored despite the deadly truth behind his words.

"And we don’t have enough reserved mana either. So how exactly are you planning to make this work?"

He wasn’t wrong.

The mana sealed within the pendant was only just enough to maintain the fragile barrier protecting his organs. What little extra it held was being used to keep him alive from moment to moment.

If that ran out... there wouldn’t be anything left.

However, Xion had been preparing exactly for this moment.

He’d been collecting Darius’ corrupted mana in small, manageable portions and then using the pendant to clean it.

After purifying, he stored it in his ring which would amplify it. He had been repeating this process again and again.

"Leave it to me." That was all Xion could say to the three men staring at him.

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "But first, you need to sign this." Xion tapped the parchment cluttered with notes and scribbles.

Beside him, the water in the bath had long since lost its medicinal potency. The blue had faded into the lightest shade, almost mingling with the colorless water.

Time was ticking.

As Darius stood up from the bathtub, Xion almost squawked like a silly little kitten.

Internally though, he cursed. Couldn’t he have given a warning first? What if I got a heart attack?! And worse... a nosebleed?!

His wide blue eyes, very much against his will, trailed downward like a guilty thief.

They skimmed over the lean, wet chest, over pale skin that glistened with droplets, down to the outline of abs that were, in his honest opinion, unfairly nice.

Especially compared to my non-existent ones, Xion thought bitterly.

His gaze continued downward... past the defined mermaid lines... until the droplets vanished into ...

Trousers?

Xion blinked, staring blankly at the soaked cloth clinging to Darius’ lower body.

His heart, which had been hanging by a thread, snapped right back into place.

Why the hell did I think he was naked?! Of course, he’d wear something underneath!

He really wanted to smack himself. Unfortunately, his body agreed before his brain could veto the motion.

And before his logical reasoning could stop him, he did it, right into the edge of the tub at that.

Smack!

"Ow—"

Darius tilted his head slightly in visible confusion. "What are you doing?"

His long silver hair spilled over his shoulder, scattering fine droplets in the air like glittering threads of moonlight.

A few landed on Xion, who flinched as if physically burned and finally snapped back to reality.

He cradled his newly reddened forehead, which was almost certainly going to swell later.

Darius, on the other hand, casually swept his wet hair back with one hand, revealing that ridiculously unbothered and almost amused face.

With a forehead that had zero wrinkles of stress, he looked as peaceful as ever.

Meanwhile, Xion was silently combusting. Why the hell am I still looking?!

"Nothing," he coughed while his ears went embarrassingly numb from the heat. "Please get dressed. I’ll wait outside."

He turned so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. Somehow, by sheer willpower alone, he managed to stumble behind the partition with whatever scraps of dignity he had left.

Once out of view, he touched his nose.

No blood.

He stared at his clean palm and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

He honestly was not sure if he was disappointed by those trousers, or relieved that Darius wasn’t truly naked...

And then, because his brain clearly hated him, the image flashed again. Long silver hair, water droplets, those unfair abs...

Smack!

He slapped his own cheeks making them even more red if it was possible.

"Focus, you idiot," he muttered under his breath, shaking the thought out like it was a bug in his ear.

Grumbling softly, he busied himself with inspecting the tools and supplies.

He’d barely managed to hold it together. But the culprit of his flustered state was utterly serene.

As Allen quietly helped him into a fresh set of robes, Darius’ gaze drifted to the parchment resting on the small stool beside the tub.

The paper was slightly damp and curled at the edges.

He reached for it. Neatly written, though clearly rushed in places, the paper held more than just scribbles.

It was filled with numbered lists, annotations in the margins, "Precautionary Notes", followed by a long paragraph that calmly outlined what would happen if things went wrong.

Systemic mana collapse. Organ fatigue. Neurological tremors. Rejection of the mana transplant...

Darius raised an eyebrow. Rejection? Was that not obvious enough?

The next section was labelled as the treatment plan.

"Mana Chemotherapy and Transplantation".

The term alone gave him pause. It sounded too foreign on his tongue, nothing like any known magical theory he had studied.

He read on, trying to grasp the mechanics of it all, but more than once found himself doubling back to re-read a line.

Not because it was confusing... but because he hadn’t expected this level of depth.

Or risk.

Has he really been studying all this alone?

Darius’ hand tightened slightly on the parchment, his other arm slipping easily through the robe Allen held out for him.

This was the first time Darius had encountered such a term, "chemotherapy." Yet, the fact that Xion had named it so told him a lot.

And now... he realized again just how much of the boy’s world was hidden from him. He barely knew anything about his kitten.

Darius looked toward the partition where the faint sounds of fumbling and muttering echoed softly.

"Focus, you idiot."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "... Really silly," he chuckled lightly. "He’s more anxious than I am. And I’m the one potentially dying."

Allen didn’t look up as he helped the archduke dry his hair while being careful enough not to directly touch it.

But his voice was gentle as he replied, "That’s because you’re important to him, Your Grace."

Darius paused for half a heartbeat, then without wasting any more time, he opened his palm in front of Ray.

Ray hesitated. "But Your Grace... the risk is too much..."

Darius looked up. His dark gaze pinned the knight in his place, and that was all it took.

Ray’s words died in his throat. His Grace didn’t need to speak. That look was enough.

The Archduke was determined. Stubborn to the core. And somehow, even more difficult to argue with than Ray himself. Which really said something, considering Ray once wrestled a gorilla just to prove a point.

Reluctantly, the knight captain placed the pen in Darius’ open hand and watched his grace sign on his literal death warrant.

Ray would’ve declared, right then and there, that if anything happened to Darius, he would personally cut down the healer responsible.

However, when the healer was Xion, he could not even do that! How was he supposed to threaten that silly healer?

So, the Knight captain could only grit his teeth and stare at the paper with utter hatred, as if it had personally wronged him and his ancestors.