Bound To The Silent Laborer's Bed

Chapter 4

Word Count: 739 | Released on: Today at 15:18

rried the stone mortar over, the green sludge inside looking as appealing as swamp mud. He

, replaced by a soothing coolness that seeped deep into the torn fl

her knee. "You think a little bit of m

. His hands were large and rough, calloused from years of hard labor, but his touch was precise. He manipula

st her skin, it felt like a violation. She was a Paladin-she had healed others with a tou

poured a thick, grayish porridge into a bowl. The smell of boiled grains and wild roots filled the tiny r

ped her head back toward him, her eyes blazing. "T

de the bed. He scooped up a spoonful of th

ked her head to the side, pressin

here, inches from her face. The silence in the roo

hollow ache in her stomach was turning into a sharp, gnawing pain that made her head spin. She could feel his g

a Paladin anymore. She was just a starving girl with broken legs. She had to live. If she died here, in this dirt-floored sh

rmth radiating from the food was a physical force against her cold skin. Her

. She kne

ing to summon a threat, b

crushed her pride into dust. Slowly, agonizingl

and water, but the heat spreading down her throat and into her stomach felt

r leaked from the corner of her eye, sliding down her temple and into her hair. It wasn't a tear of gratitude. It was a tear of pure, und

nd, then resumed feeding her, his movements becoming slow

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Bound To The Silent Laborer's Bed

Luo Jiuyuan Fantasy

“I was the youngest Paladin in history, the absolute pride of the Azure Blade. But after a disastrous mission in the snow, I was falsely accused of slaughtering my own squad. Grand Master Bernardo Rowe didn't just exile me; he surgically severed my connection to the magic Aether, turning me into a crippled mortal. Desperate to survive, I tried to climb the Holy Stairs to reclaim my legendary sword, "Rebellion." Instead of answering my call, my own blade shrieked in absolute rejection and blasted me down the thousand stone steps. My bones snapped like dry twigs, and I was left in a pool of my own blood. The pilgrims laughed at me. The guards declared me a lost cause and left me to rot in the dirt. I should have died there, betrayed by the Order and the holy magic I once served. But a silent, massive laborer named Cato Sims dragged my mangled body into the shadows. He healed my shattered skeleton in mere days with impossible skill, yet he allowed lowly servants to spit on him and beat him just to keep my presence hidden. I didn't understand why my holy sword had abandoned me, and I understood even less why this stranger was protecting a condemned criminal. When I finally snapped and demanded to know his price for saving my life, he didn't ask for money or my body. "The mountain does not forget its debts. I am reclaiming what was taken from it." Staring into his unyielding eyes, I realized my exile wasn't the end, but the beginning of a terrifying truth.”