The Angel In His Life (Part 4)

As he stared at him in stunned silence, the master continued to speak, his words sounding just as peculiar.

"Look, I'll stay right here beside you… So just sleep already. Hurry up and heal. When you look like you're in pain… I feel it too."

Before long, the warmth of the bed pulled the small master into slumber.

His final words lingered in the air, filled with an uncharacteristic gentleness.

Unable to resist the overwhelming drowsiness, Ragar closed his eyes as well.

The last thing he felt was the sensation of something cool and wet against his cheek—a fleeting touch that he convinced himself had to be his imagination.

It must have been… it had to be.

His young master, Rocco, never placed a slave collar on Ragar.

Nor did Rocco brand him with slave mark.

Instead, he summoned a skilled doctor to treat and erase the scars from the branding left by Ragar's previous owners.

The master's eyes, filled with a kindness akin to soothing a wounded beast, which unsettled Ragar.

Even when gazing at the large scar that ran vertically across his right eye, Rocco showed not a trace of disgust.

Thanks to this unwavering gaze, Ragar gradually began to see the scar as a "badge of honor" rather than a mark of shame.

Ragar's days with the master felt like a dream, so blissful that they seemed almost unreal.

But one day, the words of the other members of the estate cruelly reminded Ragar of his reality.

"A filthy Beastmen serving as Young Master Rocco's guard? Such a noble child shouldn't be sullied like this."

"They really ought to put that thing down already. What could Young Master Rocco possibly be thinking?"

The shock Ragar felt wasn't because of their words—it was from the harsh truth they made him confront.

His very presence sullied his pure and innocent master? Merely being at Rocco's side dirtied him?

A deep sense of guilt and self-loathing welled up within Ragar.

He had thought only of protecting the master who had saved him, but now it seemed his existence itself brought harm.

Frozen in place, his ears flattening as he instinctively shrank back, Ragar could only stand there, paralyzed.

Then, a sharp, commanding voice cut through the tension.

"Don't say such stupid things. He's not going anywhere. Ragar is mine."

The estate members turned around in alarm.

Standing there was Rocco, his usual innocent expression replaced with a fierce scowl of anger.

The sight of Rocco was enough to make them stumble over themselves in apology before quickly fleeing.

Watching them retreat, Rocco sighed in exasperation before approaching Ragar, who remained stunned.

"…I'm sorry, Ragar," Rocco said softly. "Hearing that… if being here is unbearable, don't hesitate to tell me. I was the one who brought you here on a whim. Back then, you didn't really have a choice, did you?"

The somber tone in Rocco's voice made Ragar's entire body tense.

Was this a hint that he might be kicked out?

Why?