Arknights: The Holy Son's Leisurely Life — Chapter 72

Chapter 72: Warfarin’s Tragedy

The quiet hum of Rhodes Island’s Second Medical Department was abruptly shattered by a sharp clatter.

Folinic’s pen slipped from her trembling fingers and bounced across the pristine floor tiles. The color drained entirely from her face, leaving her ashen, and the reading glasses she only ever wore for paperwork sat crookedly on the bridge of her nose. She stammered, her voice catching in her throat as she pointed a shaking finger toward the doorway.

“L-Lucian? The person on your back… the person on your back is…!?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s your Gavial.”

Lucian turned sideways, casually adjusting his stance to give Folinic a clear view of his passenger.

The usually indomitable Archosauria was slumped against his shoulders, her face flushed and her eyes unfocused. She was still mumbling in a breathless, delirious haze. “Pain… so much pain…”

After being thoroughly subjected to Lucian’s unique brand of treatment, Gavial was left completely limp, stripped of every ounce of the fierce, overbearing aura that usually earned her the title of the Medical Department’s Demon King. His blood therapy was simply too overwhelming for a first-timer. Because Gavial’s level of Oripathy infection ran far deeper than most, the violent regenerative clash within her body was exponentially more pronounced.

He could hardly leave her trembling in an empty training room for someone else to stumble upon, so Lucian took responsibility and carried her back himself.

To prevent her long, heavy tail from dragging across the floorboards, Lucian had kindly wrapped it around his own waist. To his immense surprise, the texture of the crocodile tail was absolutely phenomenal. The outer scales were rough, rigid, and lined with sharp, thorn-like ridges that resembled a deadly mace. But the underside was an entirely different world.

The inner lining of her tail, usually hidden from the world, was coated in a layer of incredibly fine, delicate scales. It was soft, yielding, and radiated a deep, inviting warmth. The tactile sensation was so wonderfully plush that after giving it an experimental squeeze, Lucian found himself entirely addicted. He couldn’t stop his fingers from gently kneading and pinching the tender flesh as he walked.

Every time he did, Gavial would shudder violently against his back, letting out a muffled, helpless whimper.

Folinic, naturally, had absolutely no idea what had actually transpired between them in that training room. Seeing the notoriously invincible Gavial reduced to such a defenseless, whimpering state terrified the young medic so much she could barely form a coherent sentence.

“Y-You won against Gavial…? Is this… is this what you did to her…?”

Lucian puffed out his chest, his face glowing with absolute pride. “That’s right! I won!”

In his mind, his blood was the ultimate positive buff. If this were a game, it would be a legendary-tier healing potion. He hadn’t attacked her; he had treated her. He gave her a premium, free-of-charge healing session and brought her to her knees in the process. Wasn’t that a flawless victory achieved entirely through his own overwhelming skill?

But Folinic did not share his perspective.

All she saw was Gavial—the undisputed brawler who had never lost a physical confrontation on Rhodes Island—defeated to the point of a dazed, trembling stupor, being carried back to her own department by the man who broke her. A deep, icy fear gripped Folinic’s heart, making her legs shake pitifully beneath her skirt. Recalling the terrifying combat data from his earlier test, she was forced to admit a horrifying truth. This man was the new, untouchable monster of Rhodes Island.

“Where should I put her?” Lucian asked, oblivious to her internal crisis. “Is there a lounge available?”

“Ah… Y-Yes! Yes, right this way!”

Stumbling over her words and her own feet, Folinic hurriedly led Lucian down the corridor. They entered a private, single-bed recovery room, and Lucian carefully lowered Gavial onto the mattress.

The moment her lower half touched the sheets, Gavial let out a piercing, tearful shriek.

“Ahhhh! It hurts so much!”

Lucian winced, looking genuinely embarrassed. “Ah, sorry, sorry. I completely forgot.”

He quickly grabbed her shoulders and rolled her over, leaving the fierce Archosauria flopped face-down on the mattress like a stranded fish.

The dense cluster of Originium crystals that had plagued her backside had been completely neutralized by his blood, violently purged and replaced by raw, newly grown flesh. While it didn’t look like an open wound, the extreme sensitivity made it feel as though she had just received fifty lashes. Her skin was in a highly inflamed, ‘blooming’ state of rapid recovery. Lucian knew from extensive experience that this was a perfectly healthy reaction and would fade in a few days.

Folinic, however, lacked this crucial context.

Her wide eyes darted to Gavial’s lower half, and a panicked scream tore from her throat. “B-Blood! There’s blood!?”

“Don’t worry, she’s not actually injured,” Lucian said in a calm, reassuring tone. “Just clean her up and help her change her clothes. She’ll get used to the feeling in a couple of days.”

Folinic’s face instantly erupted into a boiling, brilliant crimson. “In two days… she’ll get used to it…? Y-You… you’re that skilled at… with Gavial? A woman you only just met today!?”

Overwhelmed by a chaotic mix of terror and deep shame, Folinic couldn’t stop her gaze from darting back to the bed. There were distinct, dark red bloodstains smeared across Gavial’s skirt and safety shorts, with a few stray drops trailing down her fair, athletic thighs. The visual was incredibly striking.

Folinic didn’t know what had happened. She truly, genuinely had no clue.

But that absolute lack of information did not stop her teenage imagination from sprinting off a cliff. Gavial, the untouchable queen of the medics, had finally met a man strong enough to conquer her. It sounded like the plot of a trashy romance novel. Yet this man was clearly an unrepentant scumbag. He had brought three beautiful girls onto the landship with him, brazenly flirted with Dr. Kal’tsit the moment they met, and now this. The passion of their intense battle had clearly boiled over, and in the heat of defeat and primal joy, the atmosphere in that locked training room must have shifted into something entirely inappropriate… and then…!!!

Only the mind of a repressed, high-achieving teenage girl could make such spectacular leaps in logic.

Lucian waved a hand in front of Folinic’s steaming, flushed face. “Hey, Miss Folinic? Are you daydreaming?”

He tilted his head, genuinely confused by her reaction. “Is it really that strange? I am extremely skilled. I’ve been doing this exact thing until I was practically numb to it since I was a kid. What does it matter if we only just met?”

“…Beast. You absolute beast! Ahhhhh!!!”

Her fragile psyche finally snapping under the weight of the perceived scandal, Folinic screamed at the top of her lungs and bolted from the room, tears streaming down her face. If she stayed alone in this room with this monster for even one more second, she was going to be devoured too. She would end up exactly like Gavial.

Lucian stood by the bed, his hand still suspended in the air. “Hey, wait. What if an actual patient comes to the infirmary…? Man, that girl is seriously weird.”

He couldn’t even begin to trace the chaotic trajectory of Folinic’s thoughts. He sighed, pulling the crisp white blanket up to cover Gavial’s shivering form.

As his hand brushed against her lower back to adjust the fabric, the stiffly paralyzed Archosauria let out a weak, muffled groan into the mattress. “It hurts… don’t touch it, you beast…”

“I’m not the beast here. You’re the one with the tail, right?”

Amused, Lucian folded the blanket back just enough to keep the pressure off her sensitive waist. He dragged a rolling stool over to the bedside, sitting down to keep the exhausted medic company.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked softly. “Is there anywhere else that hurts besides your backside? I can rub it for you to ease the tension.”

“…Go to hell.”

Gavial was currently exhaling far more air than she was taking in, her usually fiery curses completely devoid of their signature bite. She kept her face buried deep in the pillow, her voice a ragged whisper. “This is the first time I’ve ever realized… that feeling pain drains this much stamina. How pathetic. Right now, any random Originium Slug could probably eat me alive…”

“That’s just how mortals are. Very fragile.” Lucian rested his chin in the palm of his hand, watching her with a gentle, knowing gaze. “You’ve always been a frontline brawler, right, Gavial? But the pain you endure when you actively choose to fight, and the pain you suffer when you are completely weak and unable to resist… they are two entirely different things. It feels pretty desperate, doesn’t it?”

“…Hmph.”

Gavial didn’t offer a verbal reply, but her quiet snort was an admission in itself.

Seeing the notoriously stubborn tyrant of Rhodes Island finally submit to his care brought a deep, satisfying warmth to Lucian’s chest. He smiled, his tone turning entirely professional. “Don’t worry about it. This process is completely harmless to your overall health. Once your body adapts to the new tissue, if you still want to continue treating your Oripathy, you know where to find me.”

He paused, glancing toward the door. “Ah, but I suppose that depends on how things are arranged. I still need to sit down with Amiya and Kal’tsit to figure out the most efficient way to process my blood into a standardized medical supply.”

“…Freak,” Gavial muttered weakly.

With a monumental effort, she lifted her left hand off the mattress, extending a single, trembling index finger toward him. Even completely drained, her unyielding spirit refused to break. “When I’m not hurting anymore… we are going to have a rematch. And… I’m going to teach you proper medicine. Until then… you are not allowed to run away… snort…”

Having delivered her final stubborn demand, Gavial’s consciousness finally gave out. Her hand dropped limply to the sheets, and a low, rhythmic snoring began to fill the quiet room. She wasn’t just a crocodile; she had the sleeping habits of a prehistoric dinosaur.

Lucian chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “There really are so many interesting people at Rhodes Island. I don’t think I’ll ever get bored here.”

With nothing else to do, he casually scanned the medical equipment around the room, waiting for the panicked Folinic to eventually return, or for Kal’tsit to drag her back by the ear.

Time drifted by slowly in the quiet infirmary.

Eventually, the heavy sliding door hissed open, and a raspy, thread-thin voice drifted into the room.

“Is anyone… there…?”

The voice sounded even more utterly wretched and drained than Gavial’s, yet beneath the exhaustion, there was a manic, obvious undercurrent of absolute euphoria.

“I… I have succeeded…!” the voice gasped joyfully. “I succeeded in eating the sugar! Even though the fluids I lost in the process were hundreds of times greater than what I managed to replenish… I will never stop! This is the true will of the Blood Demon—!”

Warfarin, the white-haired Sarkaz vampire, dragged herself into the light, spouting delirious nonsense. She slowly lifted her heavy head, her crimson eyes locking onto the man sitting casually beside the bed.

Lucian blinked, looking around the empty corridor behind her. Seeing that she was alone, he offered her a bright, welcoming smile.

“Hello there. I’m just a temporary worker who hasn’t even officially passed his probation yet. You look terrible. Want to eat some sugar first?”

Reaching behind his chair, he casually produced a massive, overflowing basin of his blood-replenishing sugar candy and placed it squarely on the floor in front of her.

The majestic, ancient Blood Demon stared at the impossible mountain of pure, concentrated vitality. She felt the last remaining strength vanish from her knees.

With a heavy thud, Warfarin collapsed onto the floor tiles. Her crimson eyes rolled entirely back into her head, and without a single word of protest, she face-planted decisively into the ground, passing out cold.