Engagement Ceremony (4)
Suddenly, knights burst into the Imperial Medical Office. The healers passing through the corridors jumped in surprise at their urgent demeanor, but they had no choice but to bow immediately.
It was the Emperor's personal guard from the Heavenly Palace. The highest knights of the Empire were escorting none other than the Emperor himself.
The Emperor strode down the corridor with purpose. This was the Moonlight Palace faction's territory. At the entrance, Palkenhain, who had anticipated and waited for his arrival, greeted him respectfully.
"I see you are well, Your Majesty."
"Palkenhain. Is it true that Wanda and Geda are critically injured?"
"Unfortunately, it is."
The Emperor glared at Palkenhain's response.
"Can they be saved?"
"We are... doing our utmost."
The Emperor, having survived countless extreme battlefield situations, knew from experience. Berating the healers wouldn't bring the dying back to life. It was better to step aside and let them focus.
"How long will it take?"
"Lady Wanda is under Master Gotberg's care, and Lady Geda under Priest Libio. Lady Wanda's treatment will take at least five hours."
"I'll wait here."
"We shall prepare a place for you."
Guided by Palkenhain, the Emperor entered Ras Gotberg's office. Attendants quickly prepared the space for his comfort.
"Hoo."
As Emperor, he couldn't show undue agitation. Though anxious and worried, he calmly accepted the tea from the attendant.
"Come, sit, Palkenhain."
"Yes."
While Ras was operating, Palkenhain kept the Emperor company. Come to think of it, it was Gotberg who had recommended these tea leaves. Wetting his lips with the warm liquid, the slightly calmed Emperor spoke to Palkenhain.
"Wanda and Geda have followed me devotedly since childhood. They knew nothing of politics, but they always brought smiles to the imperial family."
"I see."
"When I ascended the throne, I had many of my brothers' heads roll. But in turn, I protected my own side without fail."
"I remember."
Palkenhain nodded. Even excluding the Emperor's direct line, there were over ten royals in the palace now—his cousins, siblings, and their direct descendants. For political stability, it was customary for an Emperor's siblings and family to become independent houses after ascension. The fact that they still resided in the palace was solely because the Emperor wished it. It felt almost casual, like lending an attic room to close friends. The family he had chosen would never dream of rebellion; they were utterly loyal.
In his personal time, the Emperor enjoyed hobbies or chats with them. He was merciless to enemies but endlessly affectionate to allies—a man of deep loyalty. Palkenhain, long-serving in the palace, knew this well.
"How many years have you been at the Imperial Medical Office?"
"Ah, fifty-two years now."
"Already that long? You were here even before I took the throne."
"Indeed."
"And you, who held the role of chief physician, stepped down to teach under Gotberg. Is he that capable?"
"Hmm, I've taught Master Gotberg nothing. If anything, it's the reverse."
The Emperor was slightly surprised by Palkenhain's matter-of-fact reply.
"You placed yourself under another chief physician of your own accord?"
"Truth be told, at my age, I was considering retirement anyway."
Palkenhain smiled wistfully.
"I thought to pave the way a bit for the next generation."
"The next generation."
The Emperor nodded in agreement. His most pressing issue right now was deciding the next Emperor.
"I've thought the same more than once or twice. My achievements are ample already. These days, leisurely time with my siblings satisfies me. But."
The Emperor shook his head slightly.
"As you know, there's no retirement for an Emperor. The crown comes off only with this life. This throne I so craved in my youth now binds and crushes me."
Palkenhain agreed. Success brought comfort but stole freedom.
"My legacy must be flawless. The successor must be a sage equal to me. One wrong choice, and my deeds fade."
"A most difficult decision."
"And you made that hard choice in one go. That's the right way. When my era ends, these young ones will take our places."
"As you say."
"Palkenhain."
The Emperor asked with a serious face.
"Can you trust the Gotberg you've chosen?"
Palkenhain nodded without hesitation.
"I can."
His firm conviction eased the Emperor's mind somewhat. He glanced absently toward the corridor leading to the operating room. Clenching his fists, he offered no prayer to the goddess. Instead, he cheered for Gotberg.
"How's it going?"
When Alberich pressed, one of his subordinate healers relayed the update.
"The priest is doing his utmost. Please wait just a bit longer..."
"You fool, do you think you can relay such pathetic words? It's His Majesty himself down below!"
Alberich sighed in frustration. This healing was truly critical—far beyond the subjugation war's feats.
"His Majesty dotes especially on Ladies Wanda and Geda."
Success meant wealth and honor; failure, punishment.
"If Gotberg succeeds and only Priest Libio fails, it's the worst."
The Emperor, already favoring modern medicine, might dismiss healing arts entirely. For Alberich, this was a head-on clash between healing magic and medicine.
"We can't lose, Libio."
From his brief glance earlier, both princesses had severe injuries. The experienced Alberich knew at once: ordinary healing spells would kill the patient mid-process. Miracles too grand overwhelmed frail human bodies, unable to withstand the goddess's grace. For injuries beyond a certain threshold, healing was impossible—that was Alberich's understanding.
"Even Gotberg will struggle this time. And he took the more severely injured Lady Wanda."
To suppress the Moonlight Palace's momentum, now was the moment. As Alberich pondered crisis as opportunity—
"Archbishop!"
A holy knight came running, out of breath.
"What is it?"
"Another emergency patient has arrived!"
"In this situation?"
"Actually, it's someone from the other carriage that collided with the princesses'..."
"Right, it was a two-carriage crash. Why so late?"
"The crash site was rugged terrain; rescue took time. But more importantly!"
Alberich doubted his ears at the holy knight's next words. Eyes widening, hands trembling, he bolted off.
The holy knights transferred the patient from stretcher to cart. Alberich rushed to the patient, checked the face, and paled.
"D-Darling...!"
Alberich's mind went blank. Why was his wife covered in blood, carried into the Imperial Medical Office?
"Darling, wake up!"
She was unconscious. No response. Eyes shut. Barely breathing, but on the verge of stopping.
"Move her, move her! Now!"
They rushed her to an intensive healing room. Alberich assessed her state instantly.
Healing spells can't fix this.
Delayed rescue had pushed her past the limit.
Please.
In panic, trembling hands cast a healing spell on his wife.
"Cough!"
The pressure expelled more blood, darkening it. Similar to the princesses' injuries. At this rate, she'd die before healing completed.
"Oh."
Why this sudden calamity? He'd devoted his life to the goddess. It made no sense. Denial and escape tempted him, crushing him.
The anguish was brief. He realized: perhaps this was punishment. For treating patients as pawns in the office's politics, ignoring their suffering. The only reason to heal was because they were hurt. Politics, honor—none mattered.
That's why Gotberg was so angry earlier.
Alberich's thoughts finally reached that man. He understood why he couldn't best the young healer. Palkenhain was right about retiring. He'd lost his original aspiration, tainted by society's ink; he no longer deserved to heal.
Any method that saved more patients was right. He should have accepted Gotberg's medicine, the tide of change long ago.
But it was too late. Only regret surged.
"Gotberg."
He might, just might—
Bam!
Alberich dashed down the corridor and burst into the Moonlight Palace office.
"Gotberg! Master Gotberg!"
"Lord Alberich? The master is in critical surgery. You know that."
Hugo approached with a threatening aura to drive him off.
Op-Operating room! There!
Without giving Hugo a chance, Alberich threw himself under the operating room sign.
"Lord Alberich!!"
Hugo tried to grab him but was a beat late.
Thud!
Alberich flung open the door and entered. It was the prep room with a glass window into the operating theater. Three healers rushed to block him, tackling him to the floor.
"Urk!"
Prone, Alberich looked up. Through the glass, he saw Gotberg's profile as he operated on the princess.
"Gotberg!! I beg you!!"
Alberich shouted with all his might.
"Save my wife! Save my wife!!"
Ras didn't react. His desperate cry scattered into the air. Ras kept his focus, eyes fixed on the patient.
"Get out now!"
Hugo seized Alberich and dragged him out.
"Master Gotberg!!"
Ras, of course, heard Alberich's frantic voice in the operating room. But he couldn't stop—hands and eyes locked on the task. The patient's abdomen lay open and red, still mid-suture.
Without pausing, Ras spoke.
"Chloe."