Baron's Son with -9,999,999 Reputation Point-Chapter 138: Not forever

Their gazes locked.

Lucas didn’t look away right away. For a few seconds, the world around them seemed to stop moving. The wind still blew, the grass still whispered, but the distance between them felt too close to be ordinary.

Silvara didn’t look fierce. Not guarded. Not ready to strike with her sharp words.

She was just... quiet.

And that alone was enough to make Lucas feel strange.

Without realizing it, his thoughts drifted back to the first day they met. Back then, Silvara had been harsh, cold, and suffocating. Every look from her felt like a judgment—measuring whether he deserved to live or not. A true knight: rough, unyielding, leaving no room for familiarity.

But the woman lying beside him now was different.

Her hair was scattered messily across the grass. Her gaze wasn’t piercing—just observant. Just a woman enjoying the sunset atop a hill.

Aside from being a knight... she’s just an ordinary woman, Lucas thought.

The realization came slowly, but it carried weight.

Suddenly, Silvara’s nose twitched.

"Hah—ach!"

She sneezed.

Short, spontaneous, and completely ungraceful. A few tiny blades of grass clung to the tip of her nose, making her blink in irritation.

Lucas froze for a moment.

Then a small laugh slipped out before he could stop it.

Silvara stiffened. "What?" she snapped, quickly wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "Don’t laugh."

"Sorry," Lucas replied, still smiling. "Reflex."

She snorted and turned her body away from him. "Stupid grass."

Lucas didn’t respond. He turned his gaze back to the sky, to the thin clouds drifting slowly, their colors beginning to glow gold. The evening air was cool, but comfortable.

"You know," he said at last, his voice calm, "you’re actually really cute."

Silvara’s shoulder twitched. "What?"

"Just now," Lucas continued without looking at her, "you were like a kitten sneezing because of the grass."

Silvara’s face immediately tensed.

Her hand clenched, then—thump—she punched the grass in front of her own face.

"Don’t talk so casually," she said in a deliberately sharp tone. "Even if the Baroness and Baron have accepted you, you’re still an outsider here."

Her words were cold.

Unnoticed by the man beside her.

Her fist trembled slightly. Her shoulders were stiff. A small smile was quickly hidden.

The tips of her ears turned red.

Lucas smiled wider, his eyes still fixed on the sky.

"An outsider, huh," he murmured.

Then he sat up beside Silvara, a quiet chuckle escaping his chest.

"Being called an outsider is kind of funny."

His thoughts jumped to the past few days. The fields. The debts. Endless work. Everything felt fast, dense, almost without pause.

Then a memory surfaced on its own.

The darkness of the cave. Heavy breathing. Rough, unhesitating touches. Silvara’s body moving without restraint, full of raw strength—so much that his own body had ached afterward.

Lucas fell silent.

That wasn’t a trivial memory.

And in that moment, he realized—he wasn’t the only one holding onto it. Silvara carried the same memory too. Quietly. Never spoken aloud.

He let out a long breath.

I’ve been too busy thinking about debts and fields, he thought. I forgot... how far we’ve already gone.

Lucas didn’t want to drown in his own thoughts. The sun was tilting westward. Evening was nearly over.

He stood up, brushing grass off his clothes.

"Come on," he said lightly. "Let’s water the fields."

Silvara remained seated. She leaned back, supporting herself with both hands, her expression clearly displeased.

"You’re awfully attentive to those tomatoes," she said sarcastically. "What, are you in love with them? Planning to marry a tomato?"

Lucas chuckled softly. "Not to the point of marrying a tomato."

He glanced at her, then answered without hesitation. "I’m attentive because—"

Silvara frowned.

"Because those tomatoes can be harvested," Lucas continued, "sold, and used to pay off debt."

He took a deep breath. His shoulders relaxed slightly.

"I won’t be here forever," he said with a small laugh. "At the very least... I should be useful while I still am."

"Hahaha..."

The laugh sounded light.

But Silvara froze.

Her fingers dug into the grass.

"What?" she asked quietly.

Lucas had already stepped forward, unaware of the expression behind him.

"Not forever?" Silvara repeated, her voice barely audible.

The evening wind passed between them, carrying a faint chill—leaving behind a distance that felt farther than before. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Silvara finally stood.

She followed Lucas without saying a word. The grass rustled beneath their boots, the sound of their footsteps unnaturally loud in the stillness of dusk. Silvara’s expression was somber, her jaw slightly set, her gaze fixed on Lucas’s back.

Not forever.

The words kept circling in her mind, refusing to fade.

"Lucas," she called at last.

The man’s steps slowed, then stopped.

"Why... not forever?" Silvara asked. Her voice was flat, but there was a subtle pressure beneath it. "What do you mean?"

Lucas was silent for a moment, then let out a small laugh—a light sound that didn’t quite fit the mood.

"Ah," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I forgot to explain, didn’t I?"

Silvara waited.

"My real body isn’t dead," Lucas continued casually. "It’s just unconscious. This one—" he tapped his chest, "—is only temporary."

He turned and smiled at her.

The evening wind blew stronger, stirring the grass and their hair.

Lucas dismissed Ferri’el’s hair.

His face shifted, reshaping into Lucian Voss once more.

Without another word, he turned and walked on.

Silvara remained where she stood.

Her chest felt slightly tight.

Her hand slowly clenched at her side. Her breath caught for a fraction of a second longer than it should have.

Not forever.

Silvara lowered her head, closed her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again. Her face returned to its usual flat calm, sealed neatly in place.

The distance between them stretched out. Silvara walked behind him, each step feeling heavier, carrying words left unspoken.

Lucas bore a tightness in his chest, a weight of responsibility, aware that Silvara wasn’t a cartoon character he could forget after fapping.

What am I supposed to do? he thought.