Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Kyfayar and Quentina scrambled to carry Augusta into the vacation home. During this period, Augusta remained unconscious. Kyfayar helped take off Augusta’s shoes, socks and coat (Quentina was staring at him with wide eyes the entire time while he was doing this) and covered him with a thick blanket.
The unicorn couldn’t get into the room. He stuck his head in through the window of the room and asked in horror, “Is Augusta going to die?”
“Shut your crow’s mouth! He just has a cold!” Quentina said aloud, “Just drink plenty of water, keep warm, and get some sleep!”
The unicorn was not convinced, “As long as he drinks water and rests, he can be cured?”
“Um… I think so? I haven’t been with a human for a long time, so I’m not sure.”
The unicorn retracted his head and screamed, “You’re lying! Augusta is dying!”
He then ran into the night, disappeared, and only his long cry reverberated through the forest.
Kyfayar looked at Quentina with tears in his eyes, “Is there anything wrong with Lord Augusta?”
“…He just has a cold. Why are you acting like he has a terminal illness?”
“I’m not sure. Lord Augusta’s body is so fragile…”
The female vampire helplessly supported her forehead, “Okay, okay, I know. I’ll go out and look around to see if I can find any herbs.”
Kyfayar’s ears pricked up, “I didn’t know you knew herbalism!”
“Nonsense! I have lived for hundreds of years. Is it strange to know more?” Quentina said as she walked out of the house. “Take good care of him. Don’t let him die before I get back!”
She opened the door and turned into a mass of bats with a thump, and burst into the sky. Kyfayar watched her leave in awe. It took awhile for him to realize that the doors and windows were not closed, and the cold wind was pouring into the room. He closed the door and window, afraid that Augusta’s cold would become worse.
“Don’t die, Lord Augusta…” Kyfayar lay in front of the bed and touched the magician’s forehead — it was still hot. He whimpered and his ears drooped listlessly. It was all his fault, he thought sadly. If he hadn’t foolishly tried to improve his relationship with Augusta through some kind of ‘suspension bridge effect,’ they would not have gone on a holiday at all, would not have passed the damned suspension bridge, and Augusta would not have fallen into the water.
There was no ice compress in the cottage (because there was no refrigerator at all), so Kyfayar had to put a soaked towel on Augusta’s forehead to cool him down. Augusta’s eyes were closed and he was still frowning in his lethargy. Kyfayar did not know whether his body was suffering or he was having some unpleasant dream.
After about an hour, there was a soft knock on the window of the cottage, as if someone was knocking from outside. Kyfayar went to the window and looked out with suspicion. He saw nothing. There was a light in the room, but it was dark outside. He could only see his reflection on the glass.
He pushed open the window and a swarm of bats flew in, nearly grazing his face. The bats swarmed into the middle of the room and transformed into a human. It was Quentina. She had a strange bunch of leaves on her hand, probably the so-called ‘herbal medicine’.
“How’s Augusta? Is he still alive?”
Kyfayar cast a sad glance to the bed, “Alive.”
“You go and get some water to boil, and I’ll boil it.”
“You really know medicine…”
“Yes, of course!” Quentina looked offended. “Before the development of modern medicine, human beings relied on this to save their lives! Get some water!” She said as she walked to the kitchen, “Because I knew of this, I was almost burned because they thought I was a witch! Well, it’s almost the same…”
After Kyfayar went to the water tank behind the house, he poked his head into the kitchen. Quentina had set up a big pot (there was no gas pipe, they had to burn firewood like they did a century ago), and instructed Kyfayar to pour the water into the pot, while she crushed the herbs and threw them into the water as she muttered. When the water turned an eerie dark brown, Quentina somehow produced a mug (Kyfayar recognized it as Augusta’s cup with his graduation photo on it), scooped a full cup of water from out of the pot and handed it to Kyfayar, “Make him drink it.”
Kyfayar stared at the strangely colored, pungent liquid in the glass, “Is this really drinkable? Otherwise, we should treat it conservatively…”
Quentina glanced at his mouth, looking like she wanted to hit Kyfayar on the head with the big pot. “I’m going to…”
He returned to Augusta’s bed with the cup and gently shook the magician, “My Lord?”
Augusta’s eyelids moved, but he didn’t wake up.
Kyfayar was worried. How could he get Augusta to drink this so-called ‘herbal medicine’? He was afraid he couldn’t pour it directly into Augusta’s mouth. Should he ask Miss Quentina for a funnel?
He suddenly had an idea. He took a big mouthful of the concoction himself (the taste was so disgusting that he almost spit it out), lifted Augusta’s head and fed it to him, mouth to mouth. Augusta’s throat bobbed as he swallowed the medicine. Kyfayar looked tearfully at the rest of the glass. Although he could take the opportunity to kiss Lord Augusta, the taste of this thing was…
He turned his head abruptly and found Quentina peeping out of the kitchen, looking at him with burning eyes. He shivered. Miss Quentina’s eyes were so strange. What did she want? Warn him not to do business for personal gain?
“Cough, cough…” A cough turned Kyfayar’s attention away from the female vampire. Augusta opened his eyes with difficulty, turned over and coughed.
“My Lord! You’re awake!” Kyfayar was excited.
Augusta coughed for a long time before it subsided. “What did you give me to drink?” He asked angrily. “Unicorn vomit?”
“No! It’s herbs from Miss Quentina!”
“She must be preparing to murder me…”
“That’s really herbal medicine!” Quentina exclaimed, “I know more about herbalism than you do! You can’t think of it as a placebo!”
Augusta looked blankly at the ceiling, his eyebrows squeezed together. He reached out to feel the towel on his forehead and dropped his hand weakly.
“I feel like I’m dying. I must be returning to the light…”
“You’re ill. Take the herbal concoction and rest. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
Augusta gave a sad look at Kyfayar, and a weak voice flowed from his lips, “Kyfayar, Quentina, come here…”
The female vampire ran to Augusta’s bed and said, “My Lord, what can I do for you?”
“I’m going to dictate my will now. You two are witnesses. Please record it for me. I, Augusta Hollich, own the following movable and immovable properties…”
“Lord Augusta!” Quentina and Kyfayar screamed at the same time and interrupted him.
“What are you talking about?! You have a cold, not an incurable disease!”
“A cold…” Augusta’s lips bent down. “Do you know how many people die of influenza every year?”
“You will never be one of them!” Quentina said, “Even if you have the most terrible infectious disease, I can guarantee that you will not die!” She patted her chest and confidently said, “Before you die of disease, I will turn you into a vampire, and there will be no risk!”
Augusta uttered a groan from hell. “Thank you for your kindness. It’s really no consolation at all…”
“Kyfayar, listen, Lord Augusta has the strength to fight with me. It must be the herbal medicine!” Quentina was jubilant.
“I’m just reflecting,” Augusta gave a blank look. “Don’t you think I’m confused and logical?”
“Your logic is the same as usual, and there is no problem at all!” Quentina jumped up. “How about I get more herbs?”
It was a question, but Quentina jumped into the kitchen without waiting for Augusta to answer. Augusta, who wanted to stop her but couldn’t get back from heaven, turned weakly to Kyfayar, “Stop her… The thing she makes will kill me…”
“That’s herbal medicine,” Kyfayar protested in a whisper. “It’s good for your health…”
Augusta hummed in despair, “So you’re rebelling. I’m going to fire you and let you go home. I’m going to pack you up for Cavaldien…”
Kyfayar pounced on him, and his wolf’s ears fluttered up and down. “As long as you get better, you can pack me up for whoever you want! As long as you get better…”
“Kyfayar… Let me go… I’m going to… suffocate…”
The young werewolf was in a hurry. “I’m sorry, sir, I’ve hurt you,” he said. “What can I do? As long as I can do it, I will try my best to do it!”
“Damn it! Can you change your tone? I just have a cold, not a terminal illness…”
Kyfayar thought for a moment, changed his tone, and enthusiastically spoke in a tone similar to that of a TV shopping salesman, “What can I do for you? Kyfayar will sincerely serve you!”
Augusta’s mouth trembled and seemed to want to laugh. Unfortunately, he didn’t.
“I want to take a bath.” He said.