The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 67
Chapter 67: The fat aristocrat moves quickly
Mitrof instantaneously pulled his face back. He quickly surveyed his surroundings, but the paraponera was nowhere to be found.
‘No, it’s out there somewhere.’
The calmness honed by “sublimation” turned his thoughts.
Even Canule senses it. She looked behind Mitrof’s back. However, her actions were hesitant and lost.
Then, Mitrof reached for the sword on his waist, trying to push Canule aside, but he saw a paraponera jump behind her.
The paraponera had been hiding behind the hem of Canule’s long robe and had come close unnoticed. Mitrof’s mind calmly assessed the situation.
The paraponera changed its position in the air and pointed its large, swollen buttocks with a sharp poison needle towards Canule. The needle was obvious and visible.
Canule is blocked by the wall and cannot avoid or cut down the paraponera.
Mitrof made a quick judgment.
He thrust his arm, already extended to grasp the sword, forward. He stepped forward, grabbed the collar of Canule’s robe, and pulled her towards him.
“——Ahh!”
Inadvertently, Canule fell into Mitrof’s arms.
The paraponera was already approaching from behind, but Mitrof inserted his small shield with his left arm between the poison needle and Canule’s back.
There was a brief impact, but there was no weight that would make his arms numb.
As Mitrof swung his arm, the paraponera fell while adjusting its position in the air.
The sharp, thick needle was stuck in the small shield he had swung. The needle glowed with a crimson light and reflected a dark red liquid that could be poison.
Just as Mitrof thought, ‘So, this is the poison,’ his left arm suddenly jerked.
“What?!”
Suddenly, a sharp pain swelled. Mitrof only later realized that the needle attack that had escalated into an explosion had poisoned him.
The pain transformed into a burning heat beyond what he could tolerate. Mitrof could not even scream due to the overwhelming heat. He bit down on his molars and collapsed to his knees.
“Mitrof-sama?!”
Canule quickly assessed the situation and knelt next to Mitrof. The toxin-tipped dart was stuck in a leather-covered wooden board and had pierced through it, with the tip still lodged in Mitrof’s arm.
Canule grasped the poison-tipped dart firmly with her black leather gloves and quickly pulled it out.
“Ugh… Canule, I will lose weight because of this…”
Mitrof’s face was rapidly breaking out in a greasy sweat.
“What are you talking about?!—We need to neutralize the poison immediately…!”
At that moment, the paraponera that had been bouncing off the wall approached them. Despite losing its poison-tipped dart, it still remained aggressive.
Canule knocked down the paraponera with a hand chop. Her enhanced strength, due to her curse, sent the paraponera’s head flying.
Without turning her attention, Canule removed her black leather gloves, soaked with venom, and tossed them aside to reveal her white, bony fingers. She untied the straps of her bag with those fingers and took out a vial of antivenom.
Impatiently smashing the opening of the vial with her bony fingers, Canule pour the liquid onto Mitrof’s wound, causing it to bubble instantly.
“Uoooo?! Isn’t this more painful than poison?!”
“Endure it.”
Canule tightly pushed down on Mitrof’s arm, which was thrashing uncontrollably in pain. Canule did not let him go while also taking care not to injure his joint by gently directing his struggling strength.
Mitrof could only grit his teeth and endure.
His entire body was tense. It wasn’t Mitrof’s will, but rather an automatic reaction of his body.
The foaming medicinal liquid applied to the wound was certainly effective. The burning pain gradually subsided, leaving only a thorny lump throbbing in his arm.
“…That was a quick response. Thank you.”
Despite the numbness spreading from his core with every pulsing beat of his blood, Mitrof managed to talk through the pain.
He was drenched in sweat. His vision was becoming clearer. He looked at Canule’s hand, which was holding his arm.
Noticing his gaze, Canule quickly released his hand and hid it under his robe.
“… I’m sorry. It was my fault.”
“No, it was the mistake of both of us—we were too careless and underestimated the paraponera.”
Mitrof stood up, elegantly wiping the sweat off his face with a handkerchief from his pocket.
“——Mitrof-sama, please do not protect me.”
Canule spoke firmly.
“I am a knight, and I am cursed—poison does not affect me—I should be the shield.”
Her voice was filled with solemn seriousness.
“I understand your opinion.”
Mitrof neatly folded the edge of the handkerchief.
“If you are a knight, then I am a nobleman—a gentleman must protect a lady.”
“A-A lady…?!”
Canule was choked up.
“I-I am a knight!”
“Regardless of whether you are a knight, a lady is still a lady.”
“And I am cursed, with a skeletal appearance!”
“Even if you are a skeleton, a lady is still a lady.”
“I am stronger and more resilient than Mitrof-sama!”
“That may be true, but that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt you.”
Canule was at a loss for words.
Mitrof picked up the black leather glove that had fallen nearby. He carefully wiped off any poison that had come from the needle with a handkerchief.
Fearlessly, Mitrof took Canule’s hidden right hand under his own and gently slid the gloved fingers over the bones.
“If you’re in trouble, I’ll help you. If I’m in trouble, you’ll help me. Isn’t that what being comrades is all about?”
Canule didn’t respond for a while.
She stared intently at her own hand, which was now held in Mitrof’s plump, round hand.
When Mitrof started feeling anxious with the prolonged silence, Canule spoke softly.
“Mitrof-sama, I have a request—if it’s inconvenient for you, please don’t hesitate to refuse.”
“Uh-huh?—Let’s hear it.”
“Will you—hold my hand just a little longer?
Mitrof didn’t reply to Canule’s words. He didn’t ask why or laugh it off, either.
Sometimes, there are feelings that cannot be entrusted to words. Mitrof knew this well.
That’s why he tightly squeezed Canule’s bony hand, which was within his reach.