Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 61

**Chapter 61: Honey, You’re a Bad Man**

Carlos had intended to discreetly sneak a peek at the note, but the only word his eyes managed to catch was “honey.” In an instant, Agares folded the note with a swift motion and tucked it securely within his palm. His gaze shifted to the glass jar of apple gel resting on the table. “This gel was crafted by a Level-7 Plant Healer,” he stated, his voice laced with a mix of awe and disbelief. “Both the apple gel and the grape spread are designed to curb genetic breakdown. She… she knows a Level-7 Plant Healer.”

The vibrant red gel glistened enticingly within the jar, its allure drawing Agares’s thoughts to what his newly registered wife must look like. Mrs. Vaelor. The weight of that title settled heavily on his shoulders. These were the items she had requested on his behalf, and the realization sent a ripple of curiosity through him.

Carlos’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Mrs. Vaelor is acquainted with a Level-7 Plant Healer? Do you think she might be able to persuade the healer to visit us?”

Auren, visibly exasperated, yanked Carlos aside, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “If she could get the healer to come here personally, do you really think she would have resorted to begging for these items? Use your head, Carlos.”

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a weak chuckle escaping his lips. “I figured since we have Mrs. Vaelor in our corner, we might be able to leverage some advantages.”

Auren shot him a look that dripped with disdain, but he suppressed the thrill of excitement bubbling within him. He picked up the jar of grape spread and twisted the lid open, releasing a wave of richer, purer mental energy that filled the treatment room.

Agares’s chaotic, tumultuous mental energy recoiled instinctively, retracting like a cat drawing in its claws, retreating to a corner of his mind.

After a brief pause, Auren placed the jar of apple gel into a storage case. “Let’s set this aside for testing. The rest… distribute them. The apple gel, the grape spread…”

He trailed off, his optical computer buzzing insistently.

Agares halted abruptly, his heart racing as he caught sight of the caller ID. A jolt of recognition shot through him—his newly registered wife, Sylvara Mordrel, was calling.

The folded note in his palm felt as if it were burning him, its heat radiating through his skin. He hesitated for just a heartbeat before finally tapping the accept button. The moment he did, a bright, sweet voice flooded the room, soft and melodic enough to dissolve any tension. “Honey, I know you’re being disobedient. You’re not adhering to the instructions I left in the note. You’re planning to distribute the apple gel and grape spread to your squad.”

Agares froze, his dark eyes glued to the optical computer as if he could pierce through the screen and see her.

Carlos gaped in disbelief. “What?”

Her voice was astonishingly tender, youthful, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

Auren, equally stunned, turned his attention to the screen.

What kind of remarkable wife was she? How did she know precisely what Agares had been on the verge of doing? He had been mere seconds away from handing out those precious items to individuals suffering from worse genetic breakdowns.

“Honey, you can’t do that,” Sylvara continued, her tone deliberately softening once more. “Those three bottles were created by a Level-7 Plant Healer specifically for individuals with genetic breakdown and unaddressed mental energy. If you give them to anyone else—especially those whose mental energy has already stabilized or whose genetic breakdown isn’t severe enough—they won’t be healed. They’ll only deteriorate further.”

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