Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 227: ’He Truly Cared...’

Heinz barely paid attention to their laughter now. His gaze flickered toward Florian, still unmoving, still stained with blood. He hadn’t stirred once, hadn’t made a single sound.

’Still out cold.’

The laughter grated against his ears, a cacophony of voices that felt more like a mockery of reality itself. These people—these things—acted as if what he said was the funniest joke they’d ever heard. As if they weren’t moments away from being reduced to nothing but smoldering corpses.

He needed to end this.

Augustus, standing in the center of it all, smirked. His wrinkled face, bathed in firelight, held nothing but amusement.

"Oh, the palace men are still so clueless," Augustus mused.

Heinz’s eyes flicked toward him sharply.

"Clueless?"

The heat was getting worse. The fire had spread, greedy and wild, devouring what was left of the village. Smoke curled through the air, thick and suffocating. Sweat dripped down Heinz’s temple, but he ignored it.

The villagers weren’t worried. They weren’t running, weren’t trying to put out the flames, weren’t even reacting to the destruction around them.

’Why?’

Augustus chuckled. "Someone came to see us. Someone willing to help. Someone who sought to recruit us for their cause."

A sharp pulse ran through Heinz’s mind.

’Of course.’

"That person," Augustus continued, "told us of Levi’s death."

A pause. Then, Augustus tilted his head, his smile deepening.

"Not that we didn’t already know."

Heinz’s jaw clenched.

"Revenge," Augustus said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "That is what they seek. Revenge on the king. To see him dethroned, or better yet—" His eyes gleamed, his teeth flashing. "—killed. Just as he killed the only king who ever truly cared for us."

Something in Heinz stilled.

His father.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing himself to stay still.

’Yet again, I am suffering because of that bastard.’

He had killed the last king. He had torn down his father’s reign, buried the past with his own hands.

But that was his business.

And yet, here they were, weaving their own foolish narrative into it.

"And Prince Florian?" Heinz asked, voice level. "How does he play into this foolish plan of yours?"

Augustus exhaled, as if pleased that Heinz was following along.

"Our savior," Augustus said, "gave us the means to survive. Mana stones. Power. And when things got desperate, they told us what to do—eat our sick, endure, and when the time was right..." His lips curled. "Florian would come to us."

Heinz’s mind raced.

’They expected Florian? So, Arthur did place that bait.’

Augustus shook his head, amused. "I was worried when different men arrived. We did what we could—tried to scare you both off. We needed the prince himself to come, not some knights in disguise." His eyes twinkled with twisted delight. "But to think Aden was actually Florian."

His heart thudded once, sharp.

’So they didn’t know at first. But they had been expecting him all the same.’

"The savior was right," Augustus murmured, eyes distant with reverence.

For a long moment, Heinz said nothing. Then, softly—dangerously—he laughed.

It was low at first, then louder, sharp and derisive.

"Bullshit."

Augustus blinked, but Heinz continued, his laughter curling into something venomous.

"You idiots think you stand a chance against the king?" Heinz scoffed, shaking his head. "The king who crushed everyone before him? Who killed the last ruler of this damned kingdom?"

Augustus merely watched him, his smile eerily patient.

"That wretched king," Augustus said, voice steady, "is not the only one blessed by God."

Heinz’s breath stilled.

A memory surfaced.

That god. The one who turned back time.

’I am only returning what was stolen. But remember, child of ruin... even you cannot escape punishment forever.’

’Was this it? Was this what he meant?’

His mind whirled. His death in his past life—had they been blessed, too? Was his killer being granted power just as he was? Was that why the tides had shifted, why things were no longer following the path he once knew?

Answers. He was getting them.

And yet—

Augustus chuckled again.

"You must be wondering why I’m telling you all this."

Heinz’s fingers twitched.

"Because," Augustus whispered, eyes glinting, "we are going to kill you."

The villagers grinned, stepping forward, their eyes alight with something unnatural.

Augustus spread his arms. "No use keeping you alive. We have the boy. You may be strong, but we—" His smile widened. "—can also use magic now. All of us."

’Doesn’t matter.’

Heinz narrowed his eyes, ignoring the threat entirely.

"Tell me, then," he said coolly, "how exactly do you think the king won’t absolutely destroy you all?"

Heinz repeats his question again, and this time the villagers didn’t laugh. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

Augustus stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his smirk never wavering. The villagers mirrored his movements, their feet shuffling over scorched earth, their gazes locked onto Heinz with an eerie, expectant glint.

The firelight cast jagged shadows across their faces, distorting expressions already hollowed by desperation and something darker—something resolute.

Kane, however, took a step back. Then another. His hands twitched at his sides, his wary eyes flickering toward Florian. Heinz caught the subtle shift of his weight, the barely contained tension in his stance.

’Trying to take him somewhere?’

Augustus exhaled through his nose, his voice rich with satisfaction. "No matter what the king does, it works in our favor."

Heinz didn’t respond, only watching as the old man gestured vaguely to the fire-lit ruins around them.

"If he kills us all, our savior will make sure the entire kingdom knows. The whispers will spread, the hatred will fester. The people already despise him." Augustus chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye. "A massacre will be the final push. The spark to ignite a revolution."

’And if he does nothing...’

Augustus’ smile deepened, as if he could hear Heinz’s thoughts. "Then we win even faster. Because our savior does not need us all." He tilted his head, his voice light, almost indulgent. "Only the prince."

Heinz’s chest tightened. The implications of that single sentence sent a slow, icy ripple through his spine. He knew Florian was important to this plan, but how? What exactly did this ’savior’ want from him?

His mind turned back, back to that night—the night Florian had died.

’The same night I died, too.’

Coincidence?

His death had always felt predetermined. A consequence of his past life’s choices. A price he’d accepted long before it was demanded of him. But now, doubt crept in like a slow poison.

’Was it just chance that Florian was targeted that night as well? And now, he’s the main target again?’

The kidnapping attempt. The staged accident with the aphrodisiac. The well-timed attacks.

None of it aligned perfectly, but one truth was clear: the ’savior’ had a plan. They wanted the throne, and they were cunning enough to twist the king’s every move into an advantage.

’They’re smarter than I thought.’

His gaze flickered toward Florian.

To think, he was now the one being hunted.

A memory surfaced, unbidden—Florian, standing his ground despite his trembling hands, his voice unwavering as he scolded him. No honorifics, no hesitation, only raw frustration and conviction. Because he wanted to save the village. To help them.

And now, those very same people wanted to hand him over.

Kane’s voice broke through his thoughts. "What are you looking at?" His suspicion was evident, like he thought Heinz was watching him instead.

Heinz let the silence stretch before speaking, his tone deceptively even.

"You know," he murmured, "he truly wanted to help this village."

Augustus faltered. It was brief—so brief that someone else might’ve missed it—but Heinz caught it.

"That boy argued with the king," Heinz continued, voice measured, deliberate, "because he wanted to help. The king granted him a compensation, and he could have asked for anything—riches, a way back home, a chance to leave all of this behind."

He tilted his head slightly, watching Augustus.

"But he chose to return. He came back to this village, despite having no reason to." Heinz exhaled sharply. "He truly believed he could do better than the last king."

Augustus’ expression darkened.

’Ah.’

So, there was hesitation.

Heinz had enough.

His fingers twitched toward his glasses. He was done playing along with this farce. Done listening to their delusions. He would call for Azure, take Florian, and end this now.

But just as his hand reached his frames—

Florian’s face flashed in his mind. Frustrated. Exasperated. Stubborn.

Heinz froze.

For the first time, he hesitated.