Chapter 15

The next day.

"What?! You cured that patient?!"

Lance bellowed.

"What the hell?!"

This was a patient who needed at least a B-grade heal to save his life.

And Raymond, a pathetic flunkie who wasn't even an F-class, was able to save such a critical patient?

"Did he use some ancient secret technique?

But Lance quickly shook his head.

"Even if it's an ancient secret art, it's just a joke. How can it cure such a critical patient?

Dabbling.

That was the perception of the healers at the Velund Healing Center.

Anything that wasn't healing was junk, and that was the opinion of every healer in the world.

"There must be a mistake!

Lance rose from his seat and headed for the hospital room to see for himself.

And when he got there, his eyes widened.

It was true!

The hulking patient who had been brought in yesterday was sleeping peacefully and colorfully. One look and he knew he'd made it.

"How?

Lance asked in disbelief.

And that wasn't the end of the horror.

There was a middle-aged man of very high status standing next to the leech patient.

"A nobleman?

Lance recognized the middle-aged man at a glance.

Expensive clothes, accessories, a sword around his waist, and a natural air of dignity.

He was definitely a noble, not a lowly noble, but a very high ranking noble.

It was then that Lance's eyes caught sight of the family crest embroidered on the middle-aged man's breastplate, a crest he recognized with surprise.

"Count August of the South! Why is such a great nobleman here? Does he have any patients in the hospital?

But the only patient in the room right now was the gaunt man.

In the midst of his puzzlement, the middle-aged nobleman looked back at Lance.

A gaze of steel that made him nervous.

Lance bowed excessively, almost nervously.

"My name is Lance, head healer of the Belland Healing Center, Count August."

His demeanor was a complete departure from his usual demeanor: a typical bully, strong for the weak and weak for the strong.

Something was wrong with his reaction.

"...."

He didn't answer, just glared at Lance.

"You're Lance?"

"...?"

"The one who left my son to die?"

"...!"

Lance's face went blank.

What kind of nonsense is this?!

"When did I leave Count August's Confucius to die?!

But at that moment, a terrible thought occurred to him.

"Could it be... that big guy?

Lance swallowed hard.

No, it couldn't be. No way would such a terrible thing happen to....

But then someone came along and told Lance what he had done in ancient times.

"That's right, Count. Lance, the chief healer over there, ordered me to abandon the Earl's refrain without any treatment."

"...!"

Lance's eyes widened to tears.

It was Raymond!

Raymond, who had appeared out of nowhere, lifted the corner of his mouth at Lance.

It was as if he was saying, "You are dead.

-You are dead.

"I knew that death was inevitable if left untreated, but I left it untreated because Confucius came dressed as a commoner and seemed to have no money."

Hearing Raymond's words, Count August clenched his fists tightly.

"My son for a few pennies!"

Lance's face went white.

"Les, Sir Raymond, when am I?"

"When, young man, has forgetfulness come to you already? It was yesterday, Hanson, didn't you hear me clearly?"

Hanson, who had just entered with a nursing towel, nodded.

"Yes, I heard it, too. Healer Lance told me to abandon Confucius, which is why Sir Raymond stepped in and saved him."

Count August's eyes grew colder.

Lance's complexion turned from white to corpse-like.

The blow came from nowhere, and he couldn't think straight.

The final blow came from the man himself, Confucius Kliang.

"That's right..., Father. That damned healer left me for dead."

The commotion around him caused him to regain consciousness for a moment, and he delivered the decisive testimony.

"How dare...!"

"Oh, no, Count. This is a misunderstanding...!"

"A misunderstanding?"

Count August said frostily.

"You left my son to die, and you keep making excuses. Did I say Lance? You think Count Vaughan and the House of August are a joke, and you don't realize how great the sin of disgracing a nobleman is."

"...!"

Lance's body shook like an aspen tree.

He fell to his sweaty knees and begged for forgiveness.

"Sin, I am sorry, Count, please have mercy...!"

But it was too late.

If he was going to ask for forgiveness, he should have asked for it in the first place.

No, I shouldn't have abandoned him in the first place, dead or alive. As a healer, I deal with human life.

"In the name of Count August, I swear to you that you are an enemy of the Kingdom of Houston. No, you will not be allowed to practice as a healer anywhere in the Crusader Empire."

Lance's face colored with despair.

"Ship, Count...!"

But the Count was not finished.

He turned to his aide at his side.

"What crime exactly can we charge this man with?"

"For failing to fulfill his responsibilities as a healer and deliberately putting the Grand Duke in danger of death. One point for refusing to admit wrongdoing, and one point for disgracing a nobleman, an earl, with a false pretense. All are punishable. Since they were all committed against a nobleman, they will be punished with special aggravation."

The earl nodded.

"Then let them be dealt with as they are."

With that.

Lance slumped in his seat, his legs going limp.

It was over.

It wasn't just over as a healer, either. He would have to stand before a court of law, and he would be severely punished.

"I, I'm...."

Lance stuttered and stammered, but no one sympathized with him.

He had done wrong, and they were all giving him cold stares.

Raymond, in particular, thought to himself

"This is what he deserves. He's a scumbag who doesn't deserve to be a healer.

And just like that, Lance, the promising young head healer of the Belland Sanatorium, was completely destroyed and dragged away.

You will never see Lance in the clinic again.

There was a moment of silence, and then Count August looked at Raymond again.

It was a very different look than the one he had given Lance.

Unbearable gratitude filled his eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to greet you properly before. I am so grateful."

Count August even bowed his head slightly.

"Oh, no, no, no, raise your head, Count. I was only doing what I was supposed to do."

Raymond threw his hands up in the air.

"A bow from the great Count August!" He thought to himself.

"I've made it! I'm lucky to be alive today!

I've been treated like dirt all my life.

A tidal wave of emotion washed over me.

I feigned humility, of course, without showing any outward signs of it.

"As a therapist, it's only natural for me to treat my patients, so you shouldn't mind."

There was a reason Raymond spoke like a stern saint.

"You have to make yourself look as good as possible to everyone, so that word of mouth will spread and you'll have a steady stream of patients.

Raymond already had a concept of himself as a therapist.

-A real therapist who cares about his patients!

"If this image is captured, patients will come to me like bees to honey.

It's called image marketing.

If word got out that I was a patient-centered therapist, I would make a fortune.

It was a devious plan, but so what?

It's good for him, and it's good for the patients to have a good therapist.

It was good for his sister and good for his brother-in-law.

Look.

Even Count August, who was right in front of him, was fooled into admiring him.

"That ugly bastard has become such a good healer.

Count August, of course, knew Raymond's true identity.

But he didn't pretend to know.

He thought it was his way of honoring Raymond for saving his son's life.

"If it were not for you, Count August would have lost his heir."

"I am infinitely glad that Confucius is safe."

"You are my earl's benefactor, and I do not know how to repay this favor."

Raymond's mouth went dry at those words.

"At last! Payback time!

Imagine his surprise when, after curing the patient, he realized that he was the heir to the earldom.

I thought I was going to die.

'I saved the Earl's heir, I'm sure he'll reward me handsomely!

To be clear, Raymond was no saint.

He cared about his patients, but he also had a snobbish side.

Reward after reward? Nothing like that, just a thank you.

"I know what I'm going to get this time.

Money?

No. Money would be nice, but I need to capitalize on the opportunity to save the heir of a great nobleman.

"I have to ask for something that money can't buy.

With that thought, Raymond made a face as if he wanted nothing in return.

"I don't want anything in particular, I'm a healer, I'm just doing what I'm supposed to do, I'm not looking for a reward."

Of course he didn't mean it.

He was laying the groundwork.

"Heh."

As Raymond had intended, Count August was even more impressed.

"To think that even the king himself spoke with such integrity, and yet you have such a fine heart. It's wonderful. Excellent.

Count August felt compelled to reward him further.

"I cannot let this gracious favor pass me by. You can talk to me about anything. I will listen."

Deciding the mood was ripe, Raymond spoke up.

"If that's the case, I don't need anything else, just...."

"Just?"

"If you support me in your heart, I think that will be enough."

"...!"

Did Raymond understand what he was saying?

Count August's eyes widened slightly.

He didn't really mean support in the literal sense of the word.

He's asking you to be behind him!

'... Not only is she a good person, she's also clever, and she knows exactly what she needs most.'

Count August thought to himself.

What could Raymond possibly need right now?

Money?

No.

His strength.

He clearly understood his predicament and asked for just the right reward.

Who would have thought that the ugly, bastardized prince would grow up to be so brilliant? I look forward to the future.

Having finished his thoughts, Count August nodded approvingly.

In fact, he poured himself another drink and said

"That would not be difficult," he said, "but it would not be enough to repay you for saving my son's life, so I will offer you a greater reward."