The Prince's entire body was covered in swollen blisters, red and inflamed. His once-handsome face was unrecognizable, twisted by pain, skin cracked and oozing. His breathing was thin, shallow… barely there at all.
Three days of torment had shredded him. His voice was gone; his consciousness was fading. If not treated today, he truly might not live until sunset.
One by one, the doctors who had come earlier stepped into the dormitory as well. They wanted to see exactly how this arrogant Aurelius intended to cure something none of them could even diagnose.
The sight of Philip made their hearts clench.
"This is beyond strange…"
"I've never seen a disease so aggressive."
"Even curses aren't this severe…"
Some already whispered that the Prince must have provoked evil spirits.
Aurelius swallowed hard and forced himself to remain calm. He placed his fingers on Philip's wrist to take his pulse, only for his expression to collapse instantly.
His fat cheeks twitched. His hand trembled visibly. Cold sweat began pouring down his forehead like rain.
The pulse was utterly chaotic. It was contradictory, messy, and impossible to read.
Nothing made sense.
Nothing matched any medical record, any theory, any poison he knew.
The watching doctors caught on immediately.
"This Aurelius can't diagnose a thing."
"He mocked us earlier… now look at him shaking."
"Serves him right."
"He deserved to be thrown out of the hospital. What a clown."
Their mocking voices were intentionally loud.
Aurelius had humiliated them earlier; now they had no intention of saving his dignity.
Their laughter filled the room like a slap.
Listening to it, Aurelius's legs almost gave out. He bit his tongue to steady himself, but his fingers still trembled uncontrollably.
"What… what kind of illness is this…?"
No matter how he searched his memory, nothing matched.
Nothing even came close.
And then, a voice as cool as winter water drifted from behind him.
"It seems," Zora said slowly, "that you are not such a great doctor after all."
Her delicate face held a thin, elegant smile as she looked at him, calmly and terrifyingly confident.
But the smile felt more like a blade, especially to Aurelius.
It felt like naked humiliation.
Moments ago, he had been thumping his chest with boundless arrogance, certain he could show off in front of every doctor present.
Now he could barely diagnose anything.
Didn't that make him look like he had eaten his own words?
"Who said I don't know how to treat it?" Aurelius forced confidence into his trembling voice. His fat chest puffed out as he spoke aloud. "The Prince's condition was clearly caused by poisoning. As long as he takes my Universal Detox Pill, he can be cured."
He said it proudly, but the panic in his eyes betrayed him.
He had no idea what he was doing.
He could not diagnose the condition, but he was desperate. So he latched onto the only explanation he could think of poison and took out a dark pill from his medicine box, ready to shove it into the Prince's mouth.
Just as his fingers touched Philip's lips...
A voice rose from the crowd.
"Don't bother feeding him. Aurelius, I already tried your 'universal detoxification pill' earlier."
Everyone turned.
A man stepped forward and spread his palms helplessly.
"I bought your pill because you bragged so loudly. I gave it to His Highness before. It did nothing."
Gasps echoed.
Aurelius's face went pale, and then purple in embarrassment.
Everything he claimed just shattered.
Kicking down to the crub, soft sneers began rolling through the hall.
"Rolant didn't throw him out for nothing."
"This arrogant pig? A 'famed doctor'? What a joke."
"All big talk and nothing."
Rolant crossed his arms and coldly said, "Aurelius, it seems your title of 'miracle doctor' was only good for scaring children."
Aurelius's bloated face stiffened. He stared blankly, unable to speak. His hands shook. He had been completely exposed.
"Since you aren't helping, don't stand in the way." Zora's voice was light, almost lazy, as she approached.
But those words made Aurelius latch onto a final lifeline.
He immediately barked. "You little brat… do you know how to cure him?"
He used the same trick, trying to goad her into a mistake.
He wanted her to recklessly agree so that she would share his humiliation.
Zora, however, only tilted her head. "Why do you think I came to the palace. Do you think I was here to gloat around, like you?"
Aurelius froze at her insulting words. But then his eyes brightened.
Good… very good. You have fallen into the trap.
If she failed, then at least he wouldn't be alone in shame.
Everyone's expressions shifted.
No one here believed the Prince could be cured, but watching a young girl walk straight into disaster made them sigh in pity.
"You can cure him? Then cure him." Aurelius sneered. "Let's see you fall harder than me."
But Zora didn't even spare him another glance.
She walked toward Philip's bed with unhurried grace, her steps light, her face composed. When she reached the Prince, she began examining him with calm, practiced movements: pulse first, then breath, and then skin temperature.
Her focus and precision made every doctor present subconsciously hold their breath.
Rolant found himself nodding despite his doubts.
Her basics were at least good.
Even Aurelius's sneer faltered.
For a moment, he almost forgot himself staring at her orderly, confident method.
Soon, Zora straightened and turned.
Aurelius instantly barked, "Stop pretending, lass. Admit you can't cure him."
But Zora simply smiled at him.
"Who said I can't cure him?" she replied softly. "You can't. That doesn't mean I can't."
Aurelius's face twisted. "If you fail..."
"Prepare your one hundred thousand gold coins," Zora cut in, her tone cool and careless. "And apologize to every doctor here."
"How arrogant," someone whispered.
Even Rolant hesitated.
He admired her courage, but her confidence was too extreme.
Could she truly…?
Then Zora spoke clearly, her voice steady: "The Prince is indeed poisoned."
The entire hall fell silent for a second.
"Who doesn't know that?" Aurelius snapped with forced confidence, repeating the one thing he had managed to guess correctly: poisoning.
However, the next sentence from Zora instantly changed the entire atmosphere.
"But," she said lightly, "I have seen a patient like this before… so I know how to treat it."
The hall froze.
Every doctor stopped breathing.
Even Rolant, who moments ago called her a reckless junior, widened his eyes.
If this were empty boasting, she would be the biggest fool in the world.
But if it was not…
At that moment, Zora opened her medicine box and drew out a slim, neatly rolled needle pouch.
She unfolded it.
A row of long, thin, perfectly forged silver needles glinted coldly under the palace lanterns.
Gasps exploded through the room.
"Isn't this acupuncture?"
"The lost technique of the East? Impossible..."