[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke novel Chapter 306

Chapter 306: A Puppet of Blood

Just as Xion had guessed, Darius was distraught.

His fingers clenched around the thin wrist, seeking even the faintest tremor of life, but there was none.

Allen held onto the other wrist, pushing his mana into the dry veins. Yes, dry.

The entire body was parched from within, like a husk drained of all essence.

How? How could that even be possible? Allen’s brow creased deeper, his face paling to match the other two in the room.

"You can treat it, right?"

Never in his life had Ray longed so deeply to be proven wrong by the alchemist. This time, though, he was begging that his earlier conclusion was off the mark.

The knight commander had seen Allen pulling the dead soldiers back to life. He was hoping to see exactly that.

But any flicker of hope was obliterated when Allen shook his head in denial.

Twenty minutes. That was how long it took Allen to confirm that this was indeed just a corpse.

Just as Darius felt something snapping in his head, he heard Allen speak.

"This isn’t teacher Xion."

That one sentence forced two pairs of eyes to focus on him. The pressure they exuded wasn’t something he wanted to bear.

Sweat beaded on Allen’s brow as he channeled a dangerous surge of mana, enough to rupture ordinary veins.

The corpse’s white skin beneath his touch rippled before dissolving like wax under the flame. In just a span of a few seconds, the features morphed into something uncanny.

What remained was almost Xion-like.

The resemblance was exquisite but wrong in subtle, horrifying ways. The lips were too thin, the lashes too short. There was no radiant attractiveness that Xion possessed.

"A puppet," Allen breathed, wiping his hands with a handkerchief as if touched by something impure.

"Perfectly crafted to mimic Teacher’s mana signature. They even used real blood. They didn’t just copy him..." He stalled as he felt his mana running wildly in the empty human shell. "...They harvested him."

His voice caught in his throat when he glanced at Darius, whose expression had gone terrifyingly blank.

When no reaction came, Allen exchanged a nervous look with Raymond.

Touching His Grace was forbidden. So, Allen had to settle for the next best option.

Steeling himself, he reached out and gently patted the clone’s chest, right where Darius’ white-knuckled hand still gripped the false body.

As if some spell had been broken, those pale green eyes finally looked at Allen.

"What did you say?"

A low voice without any fluctuations was cold enough to make both of them sweat and shiver at the same time.

Seeing the alchemist stunned by His Grace’s terrifying look, Ray took it upon himself to reply.

"Your Grace... this isn’t him. It’s some kind of replica. Made with real blood and mana."

The silence that followed was more terrible than any outburst.

If it was made with real blood, it only meant that someone was cruel enough to hurt Xion. Someone had bled Xion enough to paint the sofa and floor crimson.

Ah, his Xion is alive. The heart that had nearly stopped beating thumped again in his chest.

Their lord was very benevolent after all. Even now Darius was generous enough to prepare a gift for those troublemakers.

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