Health (1)
There are so many things in this world you can buy with money, but plenty more you can't. Health, peace of mind, time, and so on. Most of them are abstract, yet they hold immense weight in life. Among them, health is life itself for most people, making it profoundly important.
No matter how high your status, how vast your wealth, or how great your fame—if your health fails, it all means nothing. Most folks live oblivious to health's value until it's too late. By then, even desperate grasps at recovery come far too late. Even an emperor reigning with dignity is just another human before health's inexorable judgment. And once health deteriorates, it's devilishly hard to reclaim.
As eras pass and medicine and technology advance, new ways to preserve health emerge—but they're still rare. Often, discomfort in one spot stems from trouble elsewhere entirely, or it's congenital. Humans are built to gradually decline from birth. We're granted life and promised death in the same breath.
Yet ironically, some suffer this cycle far too soon. Some are even condemned to death at birth.
"Cough! Cough!"
A woman on the bed hacked violently. She hurriedly clamped a handkerchief over her mouth. Snow-white hair and eyes, ghostly pale skin—she evoked pure, ethereal snow, radiating mystery.
"Haa..."
After the rough bout, she slowly let the handkerchief drop. It was stained crimson-black. The severity was obvious, but she seemed unconcerned, passing it aside. A brown-haired young maid stood nearby.
"Mary. Could you handle this, please?"
"Milady."
The girl glanced worriedly between the handkerchief and her mistress, her doe-like eyes wide. The white-haired woman read the innocence there and gave a faint smile—or tried to. Her face stayed rigid, cold as stone.
"Maybe we should tell the Duke again..."
"It happens all the time. No need to fuss."
"But lately, the coughing's been..."
"I said I'm fine. Just get me a fresh one."
The woman's voice was icy, curt. Mary hesitated, then took the cloth and tucked it into a basket atop the drawer. It brimmed with bloodied handkerchiefs—a testament to how much she'd coughed up.
"...We're running low. I'll fetch more."
"Fine. Tissues work too if we run out."
"Understood."
Mary left, still shooting worried glances. The white-haired woman remained impassive. Once alone, she turned her head forward, the chill matching her expression.
"Haa..."
Selena sighed deeply, leaning back against the bed. Her face stayed stiff, now tinged with gloom. She raised her arm, eyeing her wrist. Frail, paper-thin—as if it'd snap with a tap. Her skin was unnaturally white, like heavy makeup. The blood on the handkerchief told the tale: her health was in dire straits. "Dire" was an understatement.
Not much time left.
Selena thought it blankly. Incurable congenital disease. It didn't just shorten her life—it sealed it. She'd die by early twenties, without fail. Per the Jungwon physician, it was Gu-eum-jeol-maek, the worst of the worst. Overabundant yin energy shattered her balance, slowly wrecking her body. Her mana circuits clogged one by one.
Mana circuits were vital for life—especially the health she craved. Some drop from heart attacks when circuits near the heart block from illness. Once impossible to treat, modern CPR offered emergency aid.
The gods are too cruel.
But Gu-eum-jeol-maek was different. Not one spot like a heart attack—her entire body's circuits choked. A fixed vessel overflowing, cracking under excess. In trade, it granted superhuman power. When mobile, Selena was called a genius, her magic talent peerless. Her brilliant mind even advised her father, the Duke.
All futile.
Yet time made it feel pointless. Born to the Messiah Empire's most prestigious ducal house with prodigious gifts, still withering away. Before health, all paled.
Now, she yearned for one thing: to leap from bed on her own two feet. She knew it impossible. Every support poured in, yet no improvement.
Three cures for Gu-eum-jeol-maek: ingest yang-rich spirit herbs, surgical intervention, or absorb yang directly via intimacy.
First was impossible, even with ducal power, wealth, intel. Black markets yielded drugs, slaves—never spirit herbs.
Second? Physicians quit. The surgery's hellish, aftermath terrifying.
Third... She'd die first. Bite her tongue over bedding a stranger. Virginity for extra days? No.
Such men are rare anyway.
For certainty, she needed the strongest. But top contenders were women. "Magic King" Cardir was old, eccentric.
I hate dying like this...
Death terrified her. She devoured knowledge—alchemy, medicine—to eke out days. Yet more knowledge meant harder cure. Despair crushed her; she'd sobbed once. Parents' faces darkened daily, mirroring helplessness. Her emotions faded. Now, she accepted despair slowly over false hope. She couldn't recall freely smiling.
Better than doing nothing.
She wouldn't await death idly. Selena looked up. A window floated before her: the Gallery, accessed post-resignation.
I used to hate even glancing at it.
The Gallery opened to all meeting conditions—drawing avoiders. It reeked of human desires. Selena once loathed it, but illness changed her.
Time flies.
She dove in as health plummeted, bedbound, Gallery her world. Eyeing posts led to logging survival days. Five months now—five months worse.
Not all bad eggs.
Early mockery disappointed—"typical." But genuine support grew; head mod Judaek banned oversteps, odd but just. She browsed easier now. Accepting death freed her; she adapted to desire's pit, emotions faintly stirring—mostly envy, jealousy.
Why do they thrive while I...?
Ironic, yet addictive. Lately, a odd fixed-nick drew eyes: YasaengGrill.
Why'd he drop into the Four Seasons Forest?
Gallery browsing unearthed oddities. Recently, someone fell into the Four Seasons Forest—mana-warped, ever-shifting, Gallery-blocked. Yet he connected, authenticated repeatedly—huge buzz.
Any bets on Grill's time? I say two weeks lol
└Two weeks is generous lol
└Might croak tomorrow lmao
└True fly-on-the-wall life
└God hates Grill imo
└YasaengGrill You shitty bastards. I'll outlast you all
└So what's dinner tonight?
└YasaengGrill Three Wall Valley Pills...
└Tried meat? lol
└YasaengGrill No...
└Want some?
└YasaengGrill Fix your nicks first lol
Pity at first, but post-trade? Changed. He could've swiped her compass—returned it. Not scum.
Fly-on-the-wall life feels kindred.
Her terminal; his precarious. Subtle dynamic emerged. Death-race debates popped, vanished—Judaek banned life-wagering.
If he'd found different herbs first...
Recurring thought reading him. His lucky find: Shinwol Yeongcho. Stabilizing, not yang-rich. Regret stung. She'd have seized yang herbs ruthlessly.
Would Cheonma have been at risk?
Cheonma, famed fixed-nick, got it presumably. Selena knew her patterns.
That ego bows to him—must've gotten it.
Cheonma dumped shitposts relentlessly. Selena gleaned: sky-high self-esteem, my-way-or-highway.
'Gal' means 'scold' in Jungwon tongue?
Pre-herb panic, post? Deference. Confirmed: Cheonma ill, Grill helped.
Grill's a bit of a pushover.
Selena analyzed blankly. Good deeds return good. Matched: Forest survival prioritized repayment.
Wild menagerie out there.
She checked his posts often. Kinship aside, his silence meant death—unsettling.
Makes me more curious.
What beasts next? Conquered how? She commented rarely, now joyfully. Tiny ripples in her heart.
"Cough! Cough!"
Splash!
But her worsening body... Selena clamped her mouth mid-cough. Mary was fetching handkerchiefs—hand it was.
"..."
Dizziness fading, she eyed her palm. Blood pooled—not handkerchief. Death sharpened.
Clunk—
"Milady, handkerchiefs... Milady?!"
Mary burst in perfectly timed, dashed over aghast.
"...Mary."
"I'll fetch the physician. Today's blood..."
"No. I'm fine. That's enough."
"Milady?"
No physician? Mary's face screamed dread. Selena nodded, reading it.
"Really not long now."
"M-Milady, you can't give up so soon..."
"I know medicine too. Best judge of my body."
To survive, she'd crammed medical lore. Gained certainty: terminal.
Mary trembled; Selena resolute.
"Thanks for the handkerchief. Rest now. I'll call if needed."
"...Milady."
"Alone time. Go."
Chilly dismissal; Mary left reluctantly, worried gaze lingering. Selena's heart warmed faintly. Face still frosted.
Request Father adopt Mary as ward.
Last will, reward for loyalty. Leaning back, dizziness eased but body leaden. One step impossible.
Is Mr. Grill... okay?
Closer to death, he surfaced. Her endless near-death; his eternal brink-dance. Dim eyes forced open, Gallery accessed.
Adult mandrake? What's this?
Classic Grill. Found wonder—plant, not beast, spiking interest.
Mandrakes hold yang energy...
Could it help? Commenting revealed shock: curable with adults.
But brutal condition: minimum six. Lifetime rarity—torture.
Resigned—then unpardonable reply.
└YasaengGrill Tons here tho?
└StarlightPrincess Huh?
Panicked weird reply. Unbelievable, even in Four Seasons Forest.
But pics proved it. Maybe?
His aid could escape hell. She'd brewed elixirs lifelong for cure. He wanted them over gold—easy if curative.
Like Cheonma?
Scammer doubt? Nah—Cheonma's witness endorsement.
Mandrake efficacy unknown. Grasping straws—perfect fit.
Can he gather in time?
Not days—tomorrow possible. Earlier find? Margin.
Harvesting mandrakes takes ages... okay?
Anxiety peaked—trade request pinged.
YasaengGrill requests trade. Accept?
Grill. Selena blinked at window.
All gathered already? Hope flickered, dashed. Pre-caught ones probably. Rational. No false hope.
She accepted sans expectation.
Hello. StarlightPrincess. Got 7 adult mandrakes.
StarlightPrincess Huh?
Instant shock. Blank blink-fest, but rattled.
Already? How?
Expected day minimum—way off.
StarlightPrincess Already? Possible?
Punched 'em quiet first. Dirt in mouths for safe transport.
StarlightPrincess ;;;
Selena flustered. Blinked twice. Proper harvest? Silence/sleep spells best.
Gallery's 'magic (physics)'?
Anyway, gathered. Proceed.
StarlightPrincess Really okay? These rares all to me...
You look hurting bad.
StarlightPrincess Lie?
Just cut trades next. Peak pushover—or whatever, done. Selena sighed, blank again. Lips twitched micro-up.
No wonder Cheonma courted(?). Odd acts, but good heart.
StarlightPrincess Truly grateful. Elixir not immediate—too sudden. Next trade okay?
Sure.
StarlightPrincess Thank you. So much.
Ember hope swelled. She brimmed—then wondered. Grill, death's neighbor. Tomorrow's corpse plausible.
StarlightPrincess Mr. Grill. One question?
Shoot.
StarlightPrincess If dying tomorrow, what?
Old saying: Plant an apple tree even if world ends tomorrow. Cliché now.
Expected similar—wrong.
Why think dying tomorrow?
StarlightPrincess Then?
Think living today.
"..."
Live today. Pierced her. Once yearned life; cursed body shattered it. Thereafter, daily death-watch.
But now...
Stared thighs. Trade done: vivid adult mandrakes stacked.
I want to live.
Ding!
Selena hit call bell. Mary rushed in.
"Need something, Milady?"
"Mary. Take me to the lab."
"Lab?"
"Yeah."
To puzzled Mary, another request.
"With these."
Mandrakes. Mary tilted head.
"Those ugly plants? Where from?"
"Hm..."
Selena pondered, then softly:
"Long story."
Best dodge for now.