Chapter 273: I Will Never...

Delicate fingers caressed the surface of the teacup the youthful man was holding. The honey-colored tea reflected his serene expression. Silver eyes looked away from the liquid.

"Are you alright, Young Master?" Pola's voice was brimming with concern. She knew right away that there was something wrong. 

However, Moulin only lifted his head and relaxed his posture on the couch he was sitting. He sighed with a faint smile. "I am well, Pola."

Unfortunately, Pola didn't accept his reason and continued to ask. A few guesses popped inside his mind, and she spoke. "Is it about the Lord's health?" 

The Lord she meant was none other than Moulin's father. She added, hopefully wishing to comfort the young man with silver eyes. "Don't worry, young master. The Lord will definitely get better soon. Believe it."

Moulin chuckled and only nodded. "Yes, thank you, Pola. That means a lot."

"I'm always here for you, young master. Whatever it is that you need I will try my best to give!" She said with a strangely determined expression. Her expression reminded Moulin of a fierce warrior loyal only to her master and would do anything to serve him.

Revealing a faint smile, Moulin helplessly nodded. He couldn't do anything to break Pola's resolve. The young woman was now more fearsome and clingier than Moulin last remembered her. However, he wasn't honestly bothered by it. It made Pola strong, and Moulin was happy for it. 

"Pfft!" Ghana cracks up, leaning on the couch's arm just beside Moulin. Her captivating blue eyes held Pola within them. "Little rabbit, Do you not notice?"

Pola frowned. She eyed Ghana with an intense stare. "What do I not notice?"

"Your young master is troubled from the matters of love. Can you not see his dazed eyes and the worry within them?" Ghana drank the sight of her. Pola's bright eyes shone and tickled Ghana's heart. "Why don't you offer him some advice regarding nightly matters?"

Pola blinked. After a few seconds, redness painted her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes at Ghana. However, she could not utter a single word. She was too embarrassed. Ugh! This woman!

Seeing the wolf-like lady beside him, itching to bite the ⁿ∆fearsome bunny in front of her, Moulin restrained a laugh. His eyes furrowed, and he kneaded his temples with a smile. Honestly, why don't you two get together already! 

After a few minutes of glaring daggers and throwing smirks, Pola huffed as she patiently poured tea into Moulin's empty cup. However, only a drop of tea was left. Pola hurriedly rose and excused herself to brew more tea for her young master. Although Moulin tried to stop her, Pola shook her head and hurried to the kitchens. 

"Well, I'll help!" Ghana rose and chased Pola, disappearing as the doors closed. 

Moulin softly chuckled as he heard the adorable scuffle between the two women. Indeed, it was interesting. 

Creak!

Moulin lifted his head, and a smile appeared on his lips. "Jagra, you've finished?" 

"Yes, I'm sorry I kept you waiting. More problems... Have arisen ever since the happenings of the barrier." Jagra let out a frustrated sigh, fixed his glasses, and nodded. He strode towards the couch. He slumped beside his friend wearily.

"I truly am glad you visited. I thought you were still spending your time with your lovely husband." 

Moulin almost choked. He cleared his throat. "That... We are not married."

"You might as well be now. The apocalypse doesn't care the least about such matters anymore." Jagra closed his eyes. "However, it does enjoy offering us loads of problems. I predict it won't end with the barrier." He sighed.

Moulin nodded. "I agree. How do you think the Lords will resolve this situation?"

Silver eyes stared at his friend. Jagra was oblivious of the sharp look Moulin was giving him. 

"..." Jagra gave a brief silence as though he was in deep thought. When he lifted his gaze to look at Moulin, his eyes were sympathetic and comforting. Something that confused Moulin greatly. 

"I'm sure you've, Boundary of Meian." Jagra turned away and stared at the ceiling. His eyes were hollow and filled with concern. "Meian. The great and prosperous country was brimming with finite mana and purity. The mystical land of Corahn, as others had named it." He spoke as if he was witnessing the magnificence of the country."

Jagra continued with sullen eyes, "Now, it is a breeding ground for Malibreeds."

Moulin paused. He had heard the destruction of Meian from the merfolk clan. But he didn't grasp the details of its downfall. Moulin continued to listen. 

"The captain of the pathfinder team was as one of the strongest maeruthan in Helios. A decisive leader. But after crossing the boundary of Meian, he along with most of the pathfinders, died. The boundary is the entrance of the malibreed infested landed. Surviving will be extremely difficult. The expedition has a high chance of failing." Jagra's expression turned serious. "Without a strong person to open the path, the journey will be arduous."

"..." 

Moulin sighed. "I see. I hope-"

"It's a relief that it is the High Lord who will do so."

Moulin froze. A terrible chill crept up his spine. The sentence plunged him into an endless knot of confusion and shock. His silver eyes tremble as his gaze remained on Jagra. 

"What did you say?"

Jagra paused when he realized he had interrupted Moulin. "Forgive me, I was too abrupt-"

"Tell me," Moulin said, a desperate pleading in his voice.

Jagra stopped. Then he finally realized he had made a grave mistake. "The Lord didn't tell you? He's... He will be leading the expedition."

Clatter!

Moulin abruptly stood up. His eyes were wide and disbelieving. Hadrian... Hadrian would be crossing the boundary? Moulin felt like he'd stopped breathing. This... Why? Why didn't Hadrian tell him? Why?

'Tomorrow, I promise...'

Moulin stopped. No... Hadrian was going to tell him today, supposedly. He was going to tell him today. 

"I'm sorry, I have to leave," Moulin said as he hurriedly called for Snow and Kier. The two beasts immediately neared him, sensing the strangeness in his voice. Ghana and Pola overheard the little commotion, and they met the sight of Moulin and the beasts hurriedly departing. 

"Young master?" Pola called but was too late. 

Ghana turned to Jagra with an uncertain expression. "What happened?"

Jagra leaned back with a lost countenance. He raised his hand and shook his head. "Don't. Moulin... needs to return and confirm something." He finished with concern layering his eyes. He only hoped his friend wasn't too sad to hear the news. 

Moulin was running. Arriving on the platform, through the halls, turning left, turning right. It was as if he was being chased. As his footsteps quickened, his heartbeat was thunderous and rapid. Emotions, chaotically churning his stomach. We've just reunited. Why are we parting?

Moulin didn't like it. He loathes the thought of it. If it were to happen indeed, Moulin would not be able to accept it. He couldn't.

The doors were wrenched open. Moulin strode inside, feeling lost. He sensed him. Hadrian is here. His presence is like a refreshing golden dew of the morning sun. But currently, Moulin feared him. Or the words that he would soon hear. 'I don't know anymore.'

"Moulin..." 

A voice called. This voice belonged to none other than the person constantly revolving inside Moulin's mind. Moulin felt his feet was glued to the floor. He raised his head and met those familiar golden eyes. For a moment, Moulin felt his heart clenched. 

Hadrian had emerged from the hallway of his right. Those captivating golden eyes deepened when they saw through the conflict in Moulin's eyes. The sadness and in the youth's heart seemed to echo inside Hadrian. Hadrian gradually approached him.

"You're leaving..." Moulin's mouth moved before he could think. This made the lord stop shortly. 

Hadrian's eyes softened. His arms stretched out to hold Moulin. It seems that he knows. Perhaps, it troubled Moulin to hear the news from someone else than from him. Hadrian's heart sank. A flood of bitterness filled his being to the brim. 

"Moulin-" The moment his fingers touched the youth's cheek, he was caught off guard when the young man suddenly yanked his collar. A forceful tug filled with strength.

Then, Hadrian felt something soft abruptly press against his lips. The enticing lushness of Moulin's ravishing lips, so soft and moist. Hadrian is drunk, captivated by the hastiness, and lured in by the seductive movements of Moulin's lips. The Lord angled his head and deeply kissed his lover. Tongue slipping into the alluring mouth.

And Hadrian sensed it, the feeling of comfort dripping into Moulin's sea of anxiety. This was soothing Moulin. Thus, he didn't stop and complied with the beautiful creature's wishes. Hadrian brought Moulin to the bed. The soft covers nestling the young man's back. 

Fingers were trembling as they struggled to unbutton Hadrian's shirt. 

Seeing the flustered young man beneath him, Hadrian exhaled as he gently took Moulin's hands in his, feeling the spasming delicate fingers. His voice was low and husky, "Calm down..."

Moulin felt his eyes sting, and he clenched his fists. He spoke, "Take me with you. I will not leave you. You will not leave me."

Hadrian paused. He felt an unusual satisfaction witnessing Moulin's pleading expression. However, it also felt like a knife was driven deep into his heart. He smiled, planting a kiss on Moulin's forehead, his eyelids, his cheek, his jaw, and his lips. He was gentle as if caring for a rare and exquisite treasure.

Moulin closed his eyes, relishing what was given to him. Hot palms pressed on his skin; fingers picked his clothes, the seductive flush of arousal lingered on his pale body. Soon, he was bare. They were bare. 

"I won't leave you..." It was Hadrian's voice, whispering on his neck. The man's lips pressing against a lively pulse. 

"I will never..."