Crown Prince Sells Medicine

The morning began, and the sun steadily ascended in the sky. The ladies who had harbored intense jealousy towards the Second Prince during the grand banquet the previous night were now deep in the throes of hangover-induced slumber. The Second Prince himself, exhausted, had succumbed to sleep as well.

However, there was one exception.

It was Raciel.

“Ughhh… Demian?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Just a bit lower.”

“This spot?”

“To the left, left, no, not that far. Just slightly to the right. Ah, there, there.”

“Here?”

“Yes, that’s right. There. A bit firmer.”

“Like this?”

“…Eek!”

Raciel let out a cry as if his nape was being peeled. It was inevitable. Demian, who was massaging his neck, had applied too much pressure. It was almost as if the trapezius muscle was bidding farewell to the body forever.

“Ugh, that’s too strong.”

“…I apologize.”

“Let’s do it properly, shall we?”

“…”

Demian felt embarrassed. Why was he massaging the Prince’s neck so early in the morning? And why…

“I wonder why Your Highness doesn’t rest; I’m concerned. You barely slept last night attending the banquet. I wonder if there’s a need for you to force yourself to stay awake like this…”

Honestly, he was curious. It was baffling and incomprehensible.

Demian glanced around. They were in the middle of the detached palace’s garden. Unbeknownst to them, the late winter morning sun was casting its warm rays. The Prince was reclining in a comfortable chair placed in the garden, stretching his legs.

“…”

What was his intention?

Why, from early morning, in the middle of the garden, did he need to be like this? The more Demian pondered, the more questions surfaced like a spring in a deep mountain forest.

However, the Prince’s response only deepened the mystery.

“A reason? Yes. Because a guest is coming.”

“A guest…?”

“Yes. An unwelcome one.”

“…”

“A guest who said they would think for a bit and return. But based on my intuition, they will be back by this morning. That’s why I’m waiting like this. I don’t like to be abruptly awakened to greet them.”

“…”

“Who might that be? Does it have something to do with that sign over there?”

Demian shifted his gaze, growing suspicious. Where his eyes landed, a hastily crafted sign stood. The words ‘Negotiations Welcome,’ scribbled by the Prince himself, were prominently displayed.

‘Negotiations?’

With whom was the Prince planning to negotiate? There was no way to know. But one thing was clear; this person had a hidden agenda. The Prince Demian had observed and experienced always had an underlying motive behind his actions.

“…”

He’s a rather enigmatic individual. Demian’s gaze towards the Prince was filled with complexity. Meanwhile, Raciel’s eyes narrowed at the corners.

“Oh my, lost in thought again? Your grip is slowly weakening, isn’t it?”

“…”

“Make sure to massage firmly, okay?”

“But, Your Highness, aren’t there other members of the special duty squad?”

“Hmm?”

“Why am I the one tasked with this?”

“Because if there were others, they might cause a disturbance.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s the truth.”

Raciel smirked. He spoke as if it were a jest, but it was a clear fact. It seemed prudent to clear the area as much as possible in anticipation of the elf’s potential return. This applied to both the guard and the special duty squad.

‘After all, even if they were all here, they wouldn’t be able to stop that elf.’

Suddenly, he recalled the events of the previous night. The elf woman, whose name he still didn’t know, had effortlessly breached the stringent security of the Second Prince’s palace and entered the terrace. Was it merely excellent stealth? It was beyond that.

‘Even Demian was inside the banquet hall. Yet…’

Even Demian had failed to detect the elf’s presence. That was remarkable. Demian had reached an advanced level as a Sword Expert, suffering from the Swordmaster Syndrome, which heightened his overall sensory perception.

‘This means the skills of that elf woman surpass Demian’s current abilities. If I were to guess… probably somewhere between an advanced Sword Expert and a Swordmaster?’

It might even approach the level of a Swordmaster. Therefore, a clumsy confrontation would only lead to chaos. It would be better for both parties if Demian remained by his side, and they engaged in a peaceful conversation instead.

That was what Raciel had been contemplating at that moment.

…Whoosh.

A gentle breeze swept from somewhere. A late winter magnolia petal drifted on the breeze, briefly brushing past his vision. He blinked involuntarily. And when he opened his eyes again…

“I’ve concluded my brief contemplation.”

The elf woman had somehow returned, as if she had been there all along, completely naturally. She stood just three steps away, casting an emotionless gaze in his direction.

Thanks to this, Demian’s massage had come to a halt.

“…!”

The hands of the black-haired escort moved with lightning speed. He reached for the hilt of his sword in a swift motion. He was on the verge of drawing it.

“Demian, stop.”

Raciel’s calm voice arrested Demian’s movement. His attempt to unsheathe his sword was abruptly halted. He fixed his gaze silently on the elf woman standing there and inquired.

“Is this elf, by any chance, the guest you were referring to, Your Highness?”

“Yes. So there’s no need to draw your sword.”

“…”

Gulp.

Demian’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He could sense it instantly. This elf, she was formidable. Perhaps, no, most likely more formidable than himself.

‘I can’t fathom the extent of her abilities.’

It was immeasurable. Even by observing her stance, he couldn’t get a sense of it. That could only mean one thing: she was a skilled individual beyond his capacity to perceive.

“…”

When had the Prince encountered such an elf? When had he established a connection with her? It was unknowable. There were no clues to deduce from.

Meanwhile, the elf woman spoke.

“Sylvia. That’s my name.”

She glanced at the sign that read ‘Negotiations Welcome’ after revealing her name.

“If we’re going to engage in formal negotiations, it’s proper to introduce oneself, isn’t it?”

“Welcome. You’ve arrived early, though. I was wondering what I would do if you came tomorrow.”

“That was my original plan.”

“…”

“After some brief consideration, I realized that more time wouldn’t provide any new answers, so I decided to come early.”

“Is that so?”

“Hmm.”

“Perhaps you’re not content with just money?”

“…What?”

Sylvia’s eyebrows twitched slightly. Raciel’s smile took on a slyer tone.

“I’m referring to the proposal I made last night. No matter how much I think about it, it appears to be beneficial for both of us, quite enticing. But perhaps when it comes to accepting it, something seems lacking. Am I right?”

“…”

Sylvia remained silent.

Seeing this, Raciel was convinced. His suspicion was correct. The plan he had devised throughout the night seemed to be working.

He said confidently.

“Shall we then improve upon the offer I presented yesterday?”

“Improve?”

“Yes. I will spare your life.”

“…”

Sylvia’s gaze sharpened.

But Raciel remained undeterred.

“It’s not a threat like ‘accept the offer or I’ll kill you.’ After all, without my intervention, it seems unlikely that you’ll live much longer anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you aware of the ailment you carry without realizing it?”

“…”

What could he possibly mean? Was it typical deceptive human wordplay? Sylvia regarded Raciel with even greater caution. Raciel continued.

“I sensed it when you first approached last night. The foreign sound subtly mixed into your breathing. And the faint hint of inflammation with each exhale. Don’t you cough up nearly green phlegm every morning?”

“…”

“You do.”

“What’s your point?”

“If you accept my offer, in addition to compensation in money, I mean I will provide you with treatment. Consider it a sort of bundled compensation.”

“Ha.”

A hollow laugh escaped Sylvia’s lips.

“How laughable for a young human to utter such things. Yes, the symptoms you mentioned are accurate. I do experience harsh phlegm every morning. It’s also true that my breathing has been slightly uncomfortable lately. But so what? Such mild symptoms can be cured by merely resting for a few years in a place with clean air. Are you attempting to make a significant deal out of offering treatment for something so trivial?”

“It’s not a mild symptom, though.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’ve witnessed it firsthand.”

“What?”

Sylvia felt incredulous, but Raciel was entirely unperturbed by her reaction. As if he had anticipated this response, he casually reached into his pocket.

In his hand, he now held…

“It’s been a while, Poboki?”

“Poki! Ppo-ki!”

The phoenix fish Phantom beast, Poboki, chirped happily. Raciel addressed Poboki with a meaningful tone.

“This morning, you know. The video I recorded after taking her pulse, can you display it now?”

“Poki!”

Poboki nodded its head, hovering up from Raciel’s palm and unfurling its pectoral fins expansively. Soon, a 16:9 aspect ratio fin display illuminated brightly. And within it…

Patzuzzz…

The result of the palpation skill option ‘CT output,’ which Raciel had activated briefly when their bodies had made brief contact last night, now appeared on the flame fin display.

…Pazuzzt!

The initial image displayed a completely reddish background. A round, tissue-like cluster of grapes faintly swayed with the flow of air.

“Do you see? This is the view inside your lungs.”

“What is this…”

Sylvia’s brows furrowed. She couldn’t comprehend what this young human Prince was attempting to achieve. At that moment, Raciel pointed to one section of the image displayed on the flame fin.

“And here, this entity is the parasite that has taken up residence in your lungs.”

“Parasite…?”

“Yes. Since the moment you approached me last night, I detected signs of illness from the sound of your breathing and the aroma of your exhalations and made a diagnosis.”

“…”

“Nevertheless, if you continue to harbor this, the condition will deteriorate over time.”

“…”

Sylvia clamped her lips together.

She harbored no trust for Raciel whatsoever. However, the peculiar fish that materialized before her eyes, she could believe. She realized it instantly. It was a Phantom beast.

‘Phantom beast… don’t deceive.’

Suddenly, the words of the clan’s elder came to mind. The elder had once collaborated with a shrewd human named ‘Lloyd Frontera’ in his youth. He had described it as a challenging period. But because that human possessed a Phantom beast, they could trust him.

‘The elder said, Phantom beast don’t deceive.’

Therefore, the image displayed by this fish Phantom beast’s fin must not be manipulated or false. The squirming worm resembling a kidney bean, claiming to be nestled in her lungs, must also be accurate.

“Then, precisely what is that, what is it?”

Ultimately, Sylvia couldn’t resist asking.

At that moment, Raciel beamed broadly, as if he had been anticipating that very question. Or as if he genuinely welcomed an elf with an incredibly long lifespan as a patient, he stated.

“It’s a lung fluke, Paragonimus westermani.”

(To be Continued)

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