“Co now, have a seat. I truly don’t know how to express my thanks to you, Doctor Gotberg.”
Falkenhayn greeted warmly and offered a cup of tea.
Hmm, lemon.
I never really liked it before. But lately, I’ve been eating so many sweets that my taste buds must be changing.
And to think, I used to be sothing of a gourt.
“It’s nothing. The hair loss treatnt was just fair paynt for your help during the last hearing.”
“Haha, I never thought I could get sothing worth a fortune with a few words.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased, but...”
“Mmm.”
Falkenhayn nodded with a kindly smile, as if he understood what I was implying.
“Not many healers showed up for work today. Forgive , but may I ask how the faction situation stands?”
Falkenhayn gave a bitter smile, then answered flatly.
“Just as you predicted. Ever since His Highness was exiled from the palace, many switched sides. The second prince’s greatest strength was supplentary pay. But with no prince left to approve the budget, all that’s left is base salary—so the incentive’s gone.”
Well, one thing’s for sure—Georg was good at gathering money.
He even demonstrated considerable wealth during the duel trial.
Judging by the number of nobles coming and going from Tojin Palace, he must’ve always been setting up new ventures.
“And you, Sir Falkenhayn—wasn’t it an option for you to follow him?”
“An imperial exile is a strict affair. Only three guards may accompany the prince, and he may carry no more than ten gold coins.”
“Three years without a personal physician, living like a vagabond. That’s pretty brutal.”
“Well, it’s Georg we’re talking about. He won’t drop dead sowhere. But with things as they are, I no longer have any duties.”
Then, I noticed a single envelope partially hidden under a stack of docunts on Falkenhayn’s desk.
“Don’t tell you’re thinking of retiring?”
“Haha. Truth be told, I passed retirent age long ago. But I got too used to playing king of the clinic, so I kept putting it off.”
Falkenhayn looked around his office with a gentle sweep, as if recalling old mories.
“If I was ever going to get stabbed on the way out, I always figured it’d be by Alberich.”
“My apologies. That wasn’t my intention.”
Falkenhayn blinked wide-eyed and waved his hand at my apology.
“No, I wasn’t blaming you. Seems there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?”
“The Second Prince’s faction didn’t fall because of you. Even without His Highness, I had assistants and disciples who would’ve remained loyal for ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) at least three more years. It wasn’t you who snatched away those key healers—it was soone else.”
So behind the scenes, my actions had already triggered countless unseen power struggles.
Was there another cunning healer in the clinic I didn’t know about?
“Who was it?”
“Simon the Inquisitor—personal physician to the First Prince and current Crown Prince, Gunther.”
Simon. I rembered seeing him during the hearing.
He had that ominous air, draped in a pitch-black hood, hardly healer-like.
The title “Inquisitor” was apparently earned back when he served as a fad heretic hunter before joining the clinic.
“You an the First Prince’s faction made a move against the Second’s?”
“At least within the clinic, yes. He stole away most of my healers. Those who remained were caught up in strange incidents and beca paralyzed with fear.”
“Hard to believe Crown Prince Gunther would stoop to such sches within the clinic.”
“It seems Simon acted on his own. He was always frustrated by the First Prince’s lukewarm attitude toward expanding their faction. I suppose he saw this as a golden opportunity to gain influence within the clinic.”
Seriously—do these personal physicians ever bother healing patients?
“If this continues, he’ll suck the marrow out of everything. Better to retire now with so dignity. Perhaps I should’ve been spending ti with my grandchildren all along.”
Falkenhayn said bitterly.
“Are you truly satisfied with that, Sir Falkenhayn?”
“Life is a process of slowly settling into compromises.”
He was already like an eagle with a broken beak.
Still skilled and experienced—but without drive, just waiting to be pecked to death by younger birds.
As his weary words hung in the air, silence briefly settled in the room.
—Thud.
The silence shattered without warning as the office door swung open.
From the hallway, a healer wearing a pitch-black hood stared at us with only his eyes.
Step. Step. His high heels made a deep, heavy sound as he walked.
Simon the Inquisitor stood before us.
“Have you prepared to follow your master into exile, Sir Falkenhayn?”
At his voice—like an earthquake in a frozen cave—Falkenhayn bowed his head.
“I’ve given you ample ti. If you want to retain any honor as the clinic’s longest-serving physician, I suggest you remove yourself from that chair now.”
“Ugh, mm.”
His wrinkled hand, holding the letter opener, trembled.
“This office will now be used by healers of Ilseong Palace, for the greater cause—on behalf of Prince Gunther.”
Excuse ?
“Now that,” I said, rising to my feet, “I can’t just let slide.”
Simon’s murky, lifeless eyes shifted to .
“This office is being reassigned to Wolgwang Palace. I’ve already received approval from Sister Ambrosia.”
“Gotberg. You’d do well to learn where to involve yourself—and where to stay out.”
“Appreciate the advice, but this happens to be exactly where I belong. I need this office, starting imdiately.”
“And why is that?”
To avoid taking the stairs when I co to work tomorrow, obviously.
“To prepare dicine for His Majesty. You’re not about to entertain disloyal thoughts that defy an imperial command, are you?”
Step.
Simon took one step forward, the scar on his eye casting a nacing shadow.
“There’s been no imperial order to relocate the office, I presu.”
Sharp bastard.
No wonder he used to be an inquisitor—his rhetoric was sharp.
“Gotberg, this is between Ilseong and Tojin Palaces. You have no place here.”
“Are you sure about that? I’m not so convinced myself.”
I imdiately picked up a quill and scribbled a ssage on a nearby sheet.
It requested a fair judgnt regarding a dispute at the clinic.
Then I tied it to the leg of the ssenger pigeon in Falkenhayn’s office, showing Simon the contents.
“Shall we ask directly?”
That pigeon flies straight to the Emperor.
Simon fell silent, watching my outrageous act.
Even over sothing as petty as clinic faction drama, disturbing the Emperor would hurt everyone involved.
Both Simon and I would probably be punished by our respective patrons.
Yep—this is a power trip, but I’m fine with blowing myself up to take you with .
“...If Sir Falkenhayn accepts the offer, the matter is settled. Even if that pigeon flies, it’ll have no effect.”
Simon hit the nail on the head.
Even if I blew this up, Gunther would just scold Simon, and the office would still be his.
Still, the fact that he said it aloud ant he was nervous.
I turned to Falkenhayn and said,
“Sir Falkenhayn, are you really planning to retire like this?”
“...Mmm.”
His gaze fell on the resignation letter.
“What will you do about the hair loss dication without ?”
“That... I suppose I’ll have to give it up.”
“Your retirent would be a great loss to the clinic. If a healer as skilled as you or Seongho leaves, countless patients will suffer longer from their illnesses.”
Life returned to Falkenhayn’s eyes at my words.
“The junior healers who could’ve learned from you will lose that chance as well.”
I offered him a taphor.
“A field just beginning to sprout still needs water to grow, doesn’t it?”
Falkenhayn’s lips tightened. He seed to recall a long-lost sense of purpose.
There must’ve been a ti when, as a young healer, he saved his first patient.
And that mory surely held more aning than any of these endless factional battles.
What I’d really just done was offer him a recruitnt deal: to join Wolgwang Palace as a senior healer.
Basically, a headhunting move for an executive-level position.
If the Second Prince’s faction was gone, it was better for to absorb it.
With soone of Falkenhayn’s caliber training junior healers, the system would fall into place instantly.
And yes, I was also referring to his hair.
I used the hair loss ds as leverage.
After so hesitation, Falkenhayn finally closed the folder over his resignation letter and declared to Simon:
“There will be no retirent.”
“What?”
“I won’t hand over a single resource of the Second Prince’s faction in this clinic to the First. Get out, now!”
Simon’s face twisted into a demonic scowl—but only for a mont. Then, he returned to his usual blank expression and, without warning, let out a shout.
“Demons!!”
“Jesus Christ, that scared .”
Why the hell are you suddenly screaming?
Startled, I dropped what I was holding.
—Flap flap
...Oh no. The pigeon.
I turned and saw the pigeon flying out the window, then looked back at Simon.
“Dude, that was your fault, wasn’t it?”
“Wha—no! Damn it!!”
Simon scrambled to the window, but the ssenger bird was already soaring toward the Celestial Palace.
“You demon! You really had it rigged to fly to His Majesty?! Are you insane?!”
“Who are you calling a demon? You’re the one looking like Satan with your head all twisted.”
“I won’t forgive this! I’ll purge the demon!!”
Furious, Simon stomped off in rage.
I turned back to Falkenhayn and extended a hand.
“I look forward to working with you, Sir Falkenhayn.”
“I’m not giving my office to that lunatic. I’ll fight to the end, Doctor Gotberg.”
We shook hands.
And the next day.
“So, you’re asking to decide which of my two personal physicians is superior?”
I was kneeling before the Emperor—beside Simon.
Simon was muttering “demon, demon” under his breath, his hostility clearly directed at .
“It was rely a minor incident in the clinic, Your Majesty. There’s no need to pay it any mind...”
“It’s simple, is it not?”
The Emperor cut Ambrosia off and issued a command to Simon and .
“A personal physician safeguards their master’s health. Each of you—using thods outside your specialty—shall attempt to improve my current condition.”
“Your Majesty, when you say ‘outside our specialty’...?”
Ambrosia asked. The Emperor smiled faintly and replied:
“Simon shall develop sothing beyond healing magic. Gotberg shall devise sothing outside dicine.”
“Sothing new...”
Simon looked troubled.
Well, that’s natural. Healing spells are the most straightforward thod of improving health.
“One more thing: whichever thod proves superior—I shall adopt it personally.”
The Emperor spoke as if enjoying a performance.
His unexpected declaration caused a stir among the retainers and physicians.
He was quite impulsive, this Emperor.
‘Sounds like fun.’
This whole situation, though explosive, had just beco a golden opportunity for .
“I shall obey the Imperial Command.”
“I shall obey.”
Simon and I replied in unison.
Now, my task was clear: using sothing other than dicine—no drugs, no prescriptions—I had to improve Acela’s health even more than before.
And I already had the perfect idea.
“It’s ti to cook.”
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