Tiffany's knees buckled, and she broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Is there truly no other way?" Alaric Von Seraph asked, his voice hoarse.
Gerrad hesitated, then spoke again. "Unless you can find a fifth-grade alchemist… or a physician who has mastered the lost art of needle purification."
Those words crushed the last trace of hope.
A fifth-grade alchemist was practically a legend. As for a physician capable of such needle techniques, even ordinary acupuncture practitioners were becoming rare, let alone someone who could perform that level of medical art.
Neither option was realistic.
In other words, there was no solution.
"What… what should we do…" Tiffany's voice broke completely as she collapsed into despair.
Reesa glanced at him, then whispered in confusion, "Does Tiffany… like Marcus or something?"
