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I Want To Be A Romance Novel's Love Interest

*A slow-burn fantasy romance. The weak to strong tale of a peasant on the path of finding the love he deserves. Most romance novels focus on the woman's perspective, but what about the heroes of these stories?* NOT HAREM Synopsis: Being the son of a romance author has put unrealistic ideas in Henry's head. Despite his bad luck of being born a peasant, he can't help daydreaming whenever he sees a knight in shining armor riding away with a beautiful lady. Someone like him isn't supposed to be anything but a stable hand - working hard until his last breath just like his father. So why does he feel so compelled to seek out a life much greater than he could ever hope for? He wonders what the view will look like from the top, but he won't know until he gets there!

QueenFrieza · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
606 Chs

I'm Still A Peasant

Trenton undid the armor Henry wore and pulled it off of him completely, giving him a better view of the cut.

The gash was deep and blood was dripping onto the ground. Along the edges, an ink-like substance could be seen spreading under the skin.

Sir Antoine only needed to glance at Henry's state to see that there was indeed something wrong with the cut. He instantly walked forward and knocked the raised sword out of Polter's hand with his claymore.

While the knight's face was old, the way his body moved was youthful. He lifted the claymore without any issue, and his movements were lightning-fast.

"You are disqualified," the old knight said. "Knights are supposed to have honor, and you've failed in that regard."

"Wait—" Polter tried to defend himself. "That man's a peasant! You can't be serious!"

"You had better consider going into another line of work," the old knight continued. "Your skills are promising, but your lack of morals are not."

Commander Antoine walked back to Henry and kneeled next to him as well, holding his claymore in one hand as he did so.

"This is the true winner!" he shouted and his old eyes scanned the people in the stands.

The audience, which had long since gone quiet, started to slowly cheer. The volume in the arena slowly escalated until cheering was all that could be heard.

The scene around him was like a dream to Henry, but he couldn't enjoy the moment. His eyes were starting to become blurry, and he was getting double vision. He was laying on his side and pressed his forehead into his arm which was stabilizing him on the ground.

"We need a healer," Trenton told the older knight above the noise. "I don't know what kind of poison this is."

Henry's head popped up. It was unheard of to waste the power of a healer on a peasant. Henry shook his head and tried to stand up.

"I'm fine," Henry assured them with a shaky voice. "I'll take medicine."

His effort to stand up failed and he immediately fell onto his knees. He held his head with his hands and shut his eyes.

"If I can just get over what's going on with my head…"

Trenton caught Henry by the arm and stabilized him with one of his shoulders. Seeing that Henry wasn't stable on his feet, he slowly lowered him to the ground.

"You're bleeding. We have no time to waste or the poison will spread," Trenton explained. "Someone, get me a healer!"

The commander left to find a mage with healing abilities either in the audience or with one of the doctors who had been aiding participants in the competition.

Henry had since laid on the ground and shut his eyes due to the commotion. Trenton tried to comfort him in the meantime.

"I've been poisoned before when dealing with monsters," he assured Henry. "It will be bad for a moment, but the healers are capable."

A group of knights from the audience had gone into the arena and were surrounding Polter. His loud voice could be heard over the noise.

"All this for a peasant!" Polter shouted. "He could die and no one would notice!"

Henry knew his words were true, but he kept his eyes closed. He felt like there was a fire starting inside of him and melting his insides. It wasn't like a fever - much worse.

Maximus and Alix had made it to the bottom of the stands and both of them jumped over the wall to join the commotion.

Alix pushed his way through the crowd until he was in front of Polter. He grabbed the younger knight by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close to him so they were face to face.

"Yet the peasant knows when to keep his mouth shut," Alix spat out. "Your life will be much more forgettable than his."

Alix scowled at the younger man and pushed him back so that he would fall over. He hated someone who broke such simple rules. On top of that, his principles were bad despite his promising skills.

"Stick with mercenary work," Maximus said to the fallen apprentice. "It suits your type much better."

Both knights walked away and crouched on either side of Henry who remained on the ground.

"Henry, what are you feeling?" Maximus asked. "My mother has worked with medicinal herbs my whole life. I know a bit about poison."

"I feel like I'm on fire from the inside," he responded and put his hands over his eyes. "I'm so dizzy."

The three knights crouching over him exchanged grim glances.

"Dragon blood," Maximus said.

When aged, the blood of dragons was poisonous. It was hard to find that kind of poison within the city walls, but not entirely impossible. The black liquid had killed many humans. A dragon hadn't been seen in decades but the aged blood was still passed around in black markets all across the country.

Henry uncovered his eyes and opened them - the look on his now sweaty face full of confusion. He was seeing double vision, but he couldn't help looking at each of the knights, searching for an answer.

"Dragon blood?" he questioned, but he was soon interrupted.

"We found a healer," Commander Antoine said, making himself known. "Let's first get him to a bed."

His claymore was now strapped to his back and he crossed his arms over his armored chest.

Henry shut his eyes again when the knights started lifting him, trying to get him on his feet They ended up having to drag him since he wasn't stable enough to hold his weight.

"At least you're light," Trenton tried to joke, but Alix shot him a glare.

They entered what seemed to be a washroom. There were basins intended for water but a cream-colored canvas cot had been laid out on the floor.

As soon as Henry was in a cot, a tall, skinny man with pale skin and the whitest blonde hair he had ever seen came to his bedside and kneeled next to him.

"I'm Aref Underwood," he said in a quiet voice. "This may hurt."

The man was wearing a brown robe and pulled up his sleeves. He pulled Henry's tunic which was soaked with blood out of the way and tucked it under so it wouldn't fall back in place.

One of his long, thin hands hovered over the gaping wound and the other pressed into his abdomen at the furthest stretch of the poison he could visually see.

At the feeling of Aref's hand pressing into his abdomen, Henry tried to sit up, but Trenton pressed his shoulders into the bed.

"Let him continue," he said. "Time is of the essence."

The healer's hand glowed with a pale yellow light. It felt warm and comforting against Henry's skin at first, but the moment the black poison started leaving his skin, it felt like his skin was being ripped off his body.

Henry yelled, but quickly clenched his teeth to try and keep the noise contained. His eyes were squeezed shut as his double vision became tunnel vision.

He coughed and black liquid shot out of his mouth and dripped down his cheeks. Maximus quickly grabbed a cloth from one of the basins and wiped up the mess.

Aref kept at his task with his teeth bared. His glowing hand got further away from Henry's body as he drew the poison out.

"It's certainly aged dragon blood," Aref said.

Time went agonizingly slow as the poison was drawn out of him.

When Aref got to the end of the poison he pulled his hand back in a quick chop and bright red blood started coming out of the wound instead of poison.

"My mana is low from healing knights all day," Aref said. "We'll have to patch up the wound in a traditional way. All the poison is out."

Henry passed out as soon as the last of the poison was out of him and he lay peacefully still with his eyes closed.

He was only out for a few minutes due to the shock of the pain, but Trenton didn't leave his side, filled with worry that he had forced the younger man into sword fighting only to get him killed.

As Henry slowly came to and blinked his eyes open, he saw an angel standing above him, her blonde hair illuminated by the sunlight coming from the small window.

He wondered if he was dead.