The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!-Chapter 293: Do It Alone

Aaron staggered.

The dark energy wrapped around him, pressing in.

The assassins smiled in triumph.

And then—

A golden shockwave burst from Aaron’s chest.

The air shook with a holy presence so powerful it was almost blinding. The dark magic recoiled violently, as if it had been burned by an unseen force. The assassins screamed, stumbling back as the golden glow pulsed through the battlefield, washing over them like divine fire.

It was as if Adeline herself stood among them.

But she was never there.

Aaron’s hand instinctively went to the charm hanging from his neck. The delicate piece, gifted to him by his sister, pulsed with light. It had been imbued with so much holy power that the assassins’ forbidden magic stood no chance against it.

They had made a fatal mistake.

Aaron’s grip tightened on his sword.

The charm had saved him.

Now, he would end them.

With renewed strength, Aaron charged. His blade, still burning with fire, carved through the nearest assassin before they could react. Flames engulfed his enemies as he moved with deadly precision, cutting them down one by one. Their attempts to fight back were futile.

They had gambled everything on controlling him.

And they had lost.

Layla, meanwhile, fought with relentless determination. Now that she knew she was the real target, she stayed on the move, never staying in one place long enough to be overwhelmed. She ducked, spun, and struck with precision, her dagger flashing as it found gaps in armor and soft flesh.

A robed figure lunged at her from behind—

Layla whirled, wind gathering at her fingertips, and unleashed a sharp gust that drove the blade back into his own chest. He fell with a strangled gasp.

Layla was still chipper for someone who was being targeted by assassins. She learnt a lot in the academy and her mother taught her many moves but she never got to use them to their fullest extent. She was a little excited by this opportunity.

The assassins had lost their only advantage.

And now, they were dying.

By the time the last of them fell, Aaron stood panting, his sword still burning faintly in the aftermath of battle. Around them, the alley was littered with bodies, the air thick with the scent of smoke and blood.

Then, the charm around his neck dimmed.

The holy power had been spent.

Aaron clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on the small pendant.

He would have to thank Adeline properly the next time he saw her.

For now—

He turned toward Layla.

She was leaning against the alley wall, her breathing steady but sharp. Blood stained her sleeve where a shallow cut ran along her upper arm, and there was a small scrape on her cheek, but nothing serious.

Aaron stepped toward her, his golden eyes scanning for injuries.

"You’re hurt," he said.

Layla let out a breath, offering him a smirk despite the exhaustion in her eyes. "Nothing deep," she assured him. "I’ve had worse."

Aaron nodded, his gaze lingering for a moment before he let out a slow breath.

"They weren’t ordinary assassins," he murmured. "That was forbidden magic."

Layla’s expression hardened.

This was her first experience with it, she gritted her teeth, she did not know why she was being targeted. If it was because they were getting closer to the truth, then why would they not target Aaron as well?

Aaron exhaled sharply, glancing down at the charm in his hand once more before slipping it beneath his shirt.

"This isn’t over," he said.

Layla’s eyes darkened.

"No," she agreed. "It isn’t."

Aaron barely spared a glance at his own wounds. His shirt was already in tatters, torn in several places from both battle and the heat of his own flames. Without hesitation, he gripped a clean section of the fabric and ripped it off, ignoring the sharp tug of pain in his own injuries.

Layla flinched as he reached for her arm, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the roughness of his movements.

"You’re bleeding," he muttered, wrapping the makeshift bandage around the wound on her arm.

"I know that," she replied, her voice coming out much weaker than she intended.

Aaron’s hands worked quickly, tying the fabric snugly over the injury. His blue eyes flickered up to meet hers, checking for any sign of discomfort. Layla could feel her face heating up under his gaze, but she refused to let him see how flustered she was. She coughed, looking away.

Aaron, either oblivious or simply choosing to ignore it, finished securing the bandage.

"There. That should hold for now."

Layla clenched her jaw, forcing herself to focus on the moment. But her heart was still pounding.

Aaron stepped back, exhaling deeply. His expression had shifted—no longer just concern, but something resolute.

"I’m taking you back."

Layla stiffened.

Aaron looked at her seriously, his voice firm. "This mission—this fight—it’s not for you."

Layla’s eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"I’ll be handling this alone from now on."

The words felt like a slap.

Layla’s grip on her dagger tightened, her nails digging into her palm. She knew it. She had felt it the moment he wrapped her wound with such careful hands. This wasn’t just about her injury.

Aaron had decided to cut her out.

He was trying to protect her.

Layla took a step forward, defiance flashing in her brown eyes. "You think I can’t handle myself?"

Aaron sighed, running a hand through his already-messy hair. "That’s not what I said."

"It sure sounds like it."

Aaron looked at her for a long moment before shaking his head. He let out a breath, slower this time, as if trying to choose his words carefully.

"I hope I never see you injured like this again," he admitted. His voice was softer now, but the conviction behind it was undeniable. "That’s why I’ll be doing this myself."

Layla stared at him, her chest tightening.

She had expected him to say something frustrating. But this—

This was worse.

She wanted to yell, to argue, but something about the way he said it stopped her.

So she said nothing.

For now.