I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Chapter 339: A Sudden Fog

"My head...."

The room was still dim, washed in the cool blue of early dawn. Only the faintest sliver of light slipped through the gap between the curtains. He was alone in the oversized bed, as he always was. Zarius had long preferred waking before everyone else. It gave him a little silence before reports, petitions, and the endless work of governing the North claimed his attention.

But the moment Zarius tried to lift his head off the pillow, a sharp, violent throb flared directly behind his temples.

He froze, his breath catching in his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut. The pain was sudden and incredibly intense, like a dull iron nail being slowly driven straight through his forehead. He sat up slowly, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

Am I actually sick? the thought crossed his mind, but he dismissed it almost instantly.

Zarius had survived a poisoned arrow to the shoulder and a three-day blizzard in the without so much as a sneeze, so the idea of losing to a simple headache was a personal insult.That was ridiculous. He quite literally never got sick.

Shaking his head, Zarius forced himself out of bed and began getting ready for the day.

By mid-morning, however, the pain had only gotten worse.

Zarius sat behind his desk, a stack of land-grant petitions spread before him. He’d read the same paragraph three times, yet not a single word had stayed in his head. Every shaft of sunlight that slipped through the window sent another dull throb behind his eyes. He leaned his head against one hand, pinching the bridge of his nose as he waited for the pounding to ease.

The door creaked open, and Flio stepped inside, carrying a neat stack of fresh reports. He paused the moment he saw Zarius, his eyes widening slightly.

"Your Highness? Are you okay?" Flio asked, walking over to the desk and setting the reports down with a soft thud. "You look incredibly pale."

Zarius let out a slow, rough sigh, rubbing his temples with his fingers. He was too tired to put up his usual stoic front. "No. Not really. I’ve got this headache, and it’s not going away."

Elios, who had been leaning casually against the bookshelf near the door while tossing a small dagger in the air, let out a loud, surprised laugh. He caught the blade by the hilt and tucked it into his belt. "Wow. The great Duke can actually get sick? I didn’t think that was physically possible. You never get sick. I thought your body was made of solid iron and northern spite."

Flio turned, giving Elios a quick, reproving look before leaning over the desk to look closer at Zarius. "Elios, stop teasing him. Maybe it’s just about time his body caught up to him. He is human too, if you happen to forget that sometimes." Flio frowned, unable to hide the concern in his voice. "Just let me call the physician to check on you."

Zarius didn’t even have the energy to argue. He just gave a weak nod, leaning back into his chair and closing his eyes against the glare of the room.

The physician arrived moments later with a worn leather bag tucked beneath one arm. He checked Zarius’s pulse, listened to his breathing, then studied his eyes in silence. Instead of looking reassured, he frowned. His fingers returned to the Duke’s wrist once, then again, as though he couldn’t quite trust what he was feeling.

"What is it?" Zarius grunted, his voice tight with irritation. "Just tell me."

"I... I must admit, Your Grace, I am quite puzzled," the physician said, stepping back with a hesitant bow. "Your pulse is perfectly strong, your temperature is entirely normal, and your lungs are completely clear. Physically, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. It is likely just a severe bout of sudden fatigue. I will prepare a standard warming tonic to help ease the tension."

The change came with the evening. As the last of the daylight slipped away, the ache behind his eyes eased until he barely noticed it anymore. Before long, it was gone. His body no longer felt sluggish, and the strange heaviness that had clung to him all day had disappeared without a trace.

So the tonic had worked after all.

Flio, who had stayed in the study to help organize the remaining paperwork, let out a long, relieved sigh as he watched Zarius sign a document with his usual sharp, aggressive handwriting. "Oh, thank god. I was so worried you were coming down with something terrible."

He went to bed that night feeling completely relieved, convinced that whatever had been wrong with him was over.

But the next morning, the moment his eyes cracked open, the pain returned.

And this time, it was brutally, blindingly worse.

Pain tore through his head without warning, so sudden and fierce that he gasped as he rolled over on the mattress. He grabbed at his head, squeezing his eyes shut against the faint light creeping through the curtains.

Flio came into the room shortly after to check on him, and the moment he saw Zarius, his face completely fell. The Duke looked absolutely terrible, worse than the day before.

"Your Highness..." Flio whispered, rushing over to the side of the bed. "It’s back? But you were completely fine last night."

"It’s... worse," Zarius choked out, the words scraping painfully against his dry throat.

That morning marked the beginning of a living nightmare. For over a week, the exact same agonizing pattern repeated itself daily. During the night, Zarius was completely fine, clear-headed, strong, and free of pain. But the moment the sun rose, the torture began all over again.

He started coughing violently, a dry, chest-rattling sound that left him feeling hollowed out and incredibly weak. He couldn’t do anything properly.

Daylight became something he dreaded.

"I can’t take this," Zarius muttered one afternoon. He was sitting on the floor of his study, his forehead pressed flat against the wall. The chill did absolutely nothing to soothe the burning pressure inside his head. He looked up at Elios, his bloodshot eyes filled with desperation. "Elios... hit me. Seriously. Just hit me until I’m fainted. I want to slam my head against this wall until the pain stops."

Elios stood beside the door, all traces of his usual carefree smile gone. He met Zarius’s gaze with an unusually solemn expression. His face was pale and dead serious as he looked down at his master. "You know I can’t do that, Your Grace. We just have to wait for the night to come." He glanced at the door. "Besides, Flio would punch me the moment he found out."

Zarius let out a slow, weary sigh and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He had neither the strength nor the patience to argue.

He suddenly felt the cold, lingering panic of that week rising in his chest all over again. He had been so strong, so untouchable, and yet some invisible, silent force was systematically tearing him apart from the inside out, piece by piece, and he had no way to fight back against it.

What the hell is happening to me?