Aurelius snapped. "Brat… don't go too far."
Aurelius's furious outburst had barely left his mouth when Rolant stepped forward, blocking Zora entirely as if he were shielding a precious porcelain statue from mud.
"Aurelius," Rolant's voice was cold enough to freeze water, "if you do not apologize today, I guarantee you will not walk out of the East Palace."
This time, it wasn't rage speaking. It was authority.
The pressure of the Prince's illness had pushed all of the hospital into danger.
Aurelius's arrogance, his disruption, and his deceit had nearly cost them the last chance to save Philip. Rolant no longer planned to tolerate him even a little.
Aurelius stiffened, his lips trembling with stubborn pride.
But his eyes… they betrayed the truth.
He was terrified.
He knew very well that after today, his reputation was finished. If he refused here, his life might be finished too.
Seeing his hesitation, Rolant raised a hand sharply.
"Guards..."
At once, several palace guards strode in, each one clad in armor and radiating oppressive strength. They stepped forward without a word, ready to drag Aurelius away.
"You are charged with disorderly conduct in the palace," Rolant declared. "Prepare the cell."
The word "cell" broke whatever remained of Aurelius's backbone.
His round body quivered.
Cold sweat ran down his temples.
"W-wait" he shouted, cracking his voice.
Rolant's raised hand paused mid-air. His gaze swept over Aurelius like a winter storm.
"I..." Aurelius swallowed his pride like bitter poison, "I apologize."
The deflation of his arrogance was almost pitiful to watch. His shoulders slumped. His face paled. He looked nothing like the loud, domineering man who had mocked all the doctors earlier.
"Louder," someone in the crowd snickered.
Aurelius clenched his fists, took a breath so deep his belly shook, and yelled:
"I'M SORRY!"
The hall echoed with the cry.
And then, unable to endure another second of humiliation, Aurelius bolted for the exit like a fleeing boar, nearly tripping over his own feet.
Rolant didn't bother stopping him.
This broken piece of pride would never dare cause trouble in the hospital again.
He turned to Zora instead, his expression softening with genuine respect.
"Doctor Zora, rest assured. I will send someone to watch over Aurelius. He won't get away with your wager. When he pays, the full one hundred thousand gold coins will be delivered directly to Origin Medical Hall."
Zora's lips curved in a graceful arc. "Then I must thank Mister."
There was no need for her to chase debtors around the city. Rolant would handle it. That alone saved her considerable trouble.
After Rolant spoke, the other physicians flooded forward like bees drawn to nectar.
Every pair of eyes held admiration.
Every greeting carried eagerness.
They wanted to be close to her.
To learn from her.
To bask in the presence of someone who could revive lost acupuncture arts.
Zora calmly endured the waves of congratulations, gave polite responses, and finally excused herself as soon as decorum allowed.
She stepped out of the East Palace, the afternoon sunlight embracing her like warm silk.
A bright smile tugged at her lips.
"Today was very profitable," she murmured, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "More than a hundred thousand gold coins, all at once."
It was enough to gather rank resources for months.
Enough to chase a higher realm before the royal hunt.
White clung to her shoulder, wagging its tail eagerly. "Master is brilliant."
Black chimed in, "Master, can we have meat today? Big meat..."
Zora laughed lightly, flicking their heads with her finger. "Of course. Today, I'll treat you both to something spicy and delicious."
After two days, the results became clear.
Under Rolant's diligent care and Zora's prescription, Philip's condition improved rapidly.
By the end of the second day, he had recovered a full life.
The news spread from the palace like wildfire.
The prince's strange illness, helpless even to the royal physicians, was cured entirely by the young doctor of Origin Medical Hall.
The rumor raced from mouth to mouth, street to street.
Within a day, everyone in the Imperial City knew her name.
Zora of Original Medical Hall.
The girl who revived lost acupuncture.
The miracle doctor.
The same crowd that once mocked the clinic now flocked to it like pilgrims seeking salvation.
In no time, Origin Medical Hall became the busiest medical hall in the entire city with lines stretching down the street, patients arguing for appointments, and nobles sending letters begging her to visit their estates.
Inside Origin Medical Hall…
Eric Welsh stood frozen for a long time, staring at the crowds flooding the entrance.
A few days ago, the hall had been deserted.
Now, a river of people surged before his eyes.
It was unreal.
Even more unreal was the truth behind it
That Zora, the gentle-faced girl who spoke softly, a girl he once dismissed, had mastered a lost medical art.
He flushed with embarrassment as memories resurfaced.
Her calm confidence.
Her certainty in naming the clinic "Origin Medical Hall."
Her lack of concern when business was zero.
It wasn't arrogance.
It was indeed foresight.
"Miss Zora," Eric Welsh said, bowing deeply when she walked in, "I truly did not expect your medical skill to be so profound. Before… I was blind."
Zora laughed softly, waving her hand. "Brother Eric, there's no need to dwell on it. I understand why you doubted me then. You're already giving me face."
He finally understood why she could reject the invitation of the Hospital without blinking. In the path of rank, status meant nothing. Boundaries meant nothing. Even a hundred palaces could not cage someone who sought power beyond the mortal realm.
"Miss Zora… Doctor Zora… truly, I don't know what to say." Eric Welsh rubbed his forehead. "I thought I was helping you these days, but it seems the one being helped is me."
Zora smiled lightly. "Brother, don't say that. If not for your help when I first opened the clinic, things would have been far more troublesome."
Her gratitude was sincere, warm, without losing its elegance.
As they were speaking, White quietly tugged at her sleeve, whispering, "Master, buying rank resources will be so much easier now. Two hundred thousand gold coins were enough for ten breakthroughs."
Black chimed in brightly, "And enough for meat"
Zora flicked their head lightly, though fondness softened her expression. "Gluttons."
*
Several hours later;
As Eric Welsh and Zora were still discussing the arrangements for the clinic, a calm, warm voice drifted in from the doorway—gentle, steady, and tinged with respect.
"Miss Zora."
Zora turned toward the voice. Rolant was standing there with a broad, genuine smile, the kind that carried both relief and gratitude. She stepped forward to greet him, her expression brightening politely.
"Mister Rolant?"
Rolant clasped his hands behind his back, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening with warmth. "Because of you, the Prince's illness has finally stabilized. His recovery is no longer in question."
He lifted a hand in a small gesture, and the servant behind him immediately stepped forward, offering a red-wrapped bundle with both hands. Rolant accepted it only to pass it directly to her.
"I came today to deliver the promised bounty."