The head maid, having returned from the monster subjugation mission, could only leave her post after conferring with the senior healers about her supervisory role in the physician’s exam.
She hurried her steps, still concerned about how Asella had collapsed that morning.
“The princess headed to the young master’s room?”
Upon hearing another maid’s report, she changed direction again.
It wasn’t proper for a maid to wander through soone else’s estate without her master, but there was no ti to worry about appearances.
When she rejoined Asella’s escort knights, they inford her that the princess had entered Lord Gotberg’s room and hadn’t co out since.
One hour passed, then two.
Even as the sun began to set, her mistress remained inside, and the maid’s anxiety grew.
Lord Gotberg was surrounded by nothing but the worst rumors.
Word had even reached the capital that he neglected his studies, constantly caused drunken brawls, and had been half-exiled to the Gotberg estate.
As the only son of a marquis, he should’ve received countless marriage proposals since childhood, yet Asella was his first match. Anyone could tell sothing was off.
No head of any house—no matter how politically motivated—would send their daughter to marry a beast who might kill his wife on the first night.
It was clear that Camilla, the Third Consort, must be extraordinarily power-hungry.
If that madman even so much as thought of laying a cruel hand on Her Highness...
The head maid unconsciously bit her lip.
Even so, what could a re maid do?
All the knights and maids had been ordered to wait by Asella herself.
Her orders had to be obeyed, no matter what.
Still, if there’s any hope...
During today’s exam, Lord Gotberg had not been nearly the disaster she’d imagined.
In fact, he had been exceptional.
He’d earned the knights’ trust and drawn jealousy from the other healers thanks to his outstanding skill.
There had been no hint of cheating or favoritism throughout the entire process.
If anything, both Lord Gotberg himself and the senior healers from the training center had gone out of their way to ensure fairness, preventing him from using any family privileges.
Maybe... maybe the rumors were wrong.
As confusion swirled in her head, Asella finally erged from the annex.
“Your Highness.”
The head maid and the knights bowed. Asella raised a hand, dismissing them with a nod.
“It gets chilly in the evenings.”
The head maid promptly helped her into an outer garnt.
Asella accepted it in silence and began walking with her usual proud stride.
“Where shall I escort you?”
“To dinner.”
“Dinner...?”
It was the first ti the head maid had heard Asella express a desire to eat of her own accord.
The princess, plagued by unpredictable bouts of abdominal pain, usually had little appetite even when presented with gourt delicacies.
“Yes. The young master told to eat. Said it’s important for recovery.”
“What did you and the young master talk about?”
Asella shot her a sharp look.
The head maid instantly realized she’d overstepped. A maid’s role was to remain in the background, like a shadow.
Normally, Asella would’ve scolded her harshly for such a misstep.
But today, her reaction was... different.
Still maintaining her usual bite, Asella let out a soft scoff and replied with ease.
“Las... I can’t tell if he’s clever or stupid. Sohow, he always manages to do exactly what I don’t expect.”
The head maid was perplexed.
Because—without a doubt—Asella looked pleased.
If she’s even thinking about appointing him as her personal physician, it’s clear she has so interest in him.
They’d gone out together.
She had rushed out barefoot to et him the mont he returned from the dangerous subjugation mission.
And now, she’d spent hours in his room, only to erge in a noticeably better mood.
...No. It can’t be.
Shaking her head, the head maid dismissed the thought.
Knowing Asella well, she could only assu the princess saw him the sa way she did Max—as sothing she liked and wanted to keep around.
“Oh, put this in my storage box.”
With that, Asella handed the maid sothing.
The head maid accepted it respectfully and looked down at the item.
...A lollipop?
Partially eaten, at that.
***
In front of the Gotberg estate stood a Warp Gate.
It wasn’t so simple portal that anyone could use.
After all, High Teleportation, the magic required to move people through such gates, was a 6th-circle high-tier spell.
Warp Gates functioned as checkpoints rembered and manually activated by high-tier magicians capable of casting such spells.
In truth, the teleportation itself was perford manually by these magicians, which ant Warp Gates were typically reserved for the transport of high-ranking officials.
“The gate is opening. Arrival imminent.”
The rare Warp Gate flickered to life, and a blue portal spiraled open.
Standing in wait before the granite dais was the head of the Gotberg house—Balduer.
As the escort knights erged first from the portal, a single dignified old man stepped forward under their protection.
He wore a white uniform—the symbol of a healer.
The embroidery on his chest and shoulders marked him as a Royal Physician of the Imperial dical Institute.
“Welco to the Gotberg estate, Sir Falkenhein.”
“Ah, Lord Gotberg. At long last, I et the renowned master of healing. I appreciate the welco.”
The two n clasped hands.
A marquis and a royal physician—socially, they stood on similar ground.
Since they shared the sa profession, Balduer used honorifics to show respect to the elder Falkenhein, despite their equivalent status.
In noble society, such nuances in language mattered.
But here, it wasn't a matter of hierarchy. Rather, it was mutual respect between professionals.
Balduer led Falkenhein into the estate.
“The air here is fresh. Back in the capital, the skies are so thick with gri. Magic residue, chanical byproducts—you na it, it’s floating overhead.”
“I’d recomnd a leisurely ride on horseback if you # Nоvеlight # find the ti.”
“Ha! A royal physician barely has ti to breathe. And now Gotberg is finally producing a royal physician of its own. The training center here has provided the Institute with many fine talents.”
“Indeed.”
“I hear this new selection is Her Highness the Third Consort’s will?”
“Yes.”
“Smart decision. A personal physician should ideally be close in age to their patient.”
“You serve the Second Prince, do you not, Sir Falkenhein?”
“I do. Full of vigor, that one. A constant handful. I’ve been aning to find a successor...”
Though he said so, Falkenhein had no real intention of stepping down any ti soon.
Even if stepping down were possible, few could walk away from the intoxicating scent of power.
Then, with a subtle shift, Falkenhein leaned closer and whispered in Balduer’s ear:
“You too are placing a loyal ear into the palace, but be careful. Two princes, three princesses, and a sickly old emperor... The royal court is a powder keg. Depending on who claims the throne, even swatting a fly could cost you your neck.”
“Placing an ear...?”
Balduer looked puzzled by the phrase, prompting Falkenhein to smile broadly.
Ah. This one’s a pawn of the Third Consort.
He’d heard the man was skilled—but clearly lacked political sense. No good as a power player.
Falkenhein gave Balduer a few casual pats on the shoulder.
“Well then, shall we go et the new young physician candidate? We’ll proceed as previously agreed.”
“We’re evaluating them based on the healing spell cast on the Erald Dragon hatchling, correct?”
“Exactly. Erald Dragons are known for absorbing healing magic. For fairness, we’ll do it as a blind test.”
That was the official reason.
But Falkenhein had another motive.
There are 21 royal physicians in the Institute—equal in number to the imperial family mbers. The ones with real power are those serving the Emperor and the heirs.
There were four royal physicians serving succession candidates—including himself—and one assigned to the Emperor.
Just as the imperial family was split into factions, the dical institute mirrored that divide.
If I recruit one more, that makes six. If I choose the right one and win him over, that’s two loyal to . That’s a faction no one can ignore.
His goal was to expand his influence within the Institute by handpicking a promising new royal physician.
The ideal recruit is a young scholar with bookish talent. And the most important thing is faith. I just need to pick the one with the strongest faith. Lucky for , I’ve been given an eye for it.
The stigmata etched in his left eye allowed him to see faith—his divine gift.
Balduer Gotberg... this man has strong faith too. His aura is overwhelming. Lacks political savvy, sure, but his healing ability is genuine.
Brushing a hand across his left eye, Falkenhein stepped into the exam chamber.
Snap!
The lights ca on.
Behind a translucent screen stood the silhouettes of three candidates.
Now, let’s see... who among them has the strongest faith...
As Falkenhein examined them one by one—
Crash!
He suddenly toppled from his chair, landing squarely on his backside.
“Sir Falkenhein? Are you all right?!”
“N-no... I’m fine.”
Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, Falkenhein blinked repeatedly.
No matter how many tis he looked—
That one candidate.
Every ti he tried to focus on him, an overwhelming aura flared up, flooding his left eye with blinding light.
This... this level of faith—what is this?! Has a saintess descended upon us?!
Swallowing hard, Falkenhein turned to Balduer.
“Is... is one of the candidates a woman?”
“All are male.”
A... a saint then?! Good heavens!
Politics had already fled from Falkenhein’s mind.
All that remained in him now was reverence—his worldly concerns burned away by divine awe.
We cannot let soone like this slip away. Even if he doesn’t side with , I must ensure he is chosen.
With that kind of faith, there was no need to worry.
He’d handle the Erald Hatchling healing task flawlessly.
The exam proceeded.
And finally, it was his turn.
Let’s see what kind of healing spell this sacred man will use!
The candidate scratched his head, sighed—
—Screee! Screeeeech!!
The hatchling let out a piercing shriek.
The candidate was forcing sothing into its mouth with both hands.
“W-what on earth is happening?!”
The supervising healers rushed in to intervene.
Behind the veil, the silhouette darted to and fro like a chaotic pantomi.
Then, at last, a furious voice erupted from behind the screen:
“Can we just switch to another task already?! I’m here to treat people, not stare at so damned lizard!!”
Falkenhein sat frozen, jaw agape.
He slowly turned to Balduer.
The marquis, clearly caught off guard as well, was pinching his temple.
“...It seems this candidate may not be a fit after all. He did inform us beforehand that he would use a different approach than standard healing magic, but... well, the subject was an Erald Dragon...”
“A-a different approach?!”
What in the world was going on?
I need this guy to pass!
Falkenhein wiped his forehead with a handkerchief in silence.
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