Do You Have Any Siblings?
Like a gloomy student whose eyes sparkled only when talking about their favorite subject, the emperor's gaze lit up the moment chimeras came up. So, I decided to share what little I knew on the topic.
"And as in the cases I mentioned earlier, all the children turned into chimeras ended up dying. Some lasted as little as a day, a few up to five days, but most didn't even make it that long."
"Hmm... Gold Baron, what do you think is the reason they couldn't survive?"
Like I'd know, you little shit. If I did, I'd be a mage, not a doctor.
"My apologies, Your Majesty. My knowledge is too limited to say for certain, but I suspect it was due to infection or some abnormal immune response."
"Abnormal immune response? What does that mean?"
Explaining this to a medical geek like the emperor was irritating as hell, but I plastered on the gentlest, most saintly missionary smile I'd ever mustered and pressed on. This world was one where status was king, after all.
"For example, suppose my arm gets severed in battle, and Knight Hollman dies in combat. Just an example, of course—Knight Hollman!"
"I understand."
Despite saying he got it, I could feel Theodore's sharp glare boring into me. Better wrap this up quick.
"Now, imagine Knight Hollman's body is intact—"
"I'm still alive."
"It's just a hypothetical, Knight Hollman."
"......"
"Anyway, suppose Knight Hollman agrees to donate his arm while alive, and we transplant it onto my severed stump."
"Oh...? So that's how you make a chimera?"
This chimera fetishist hears 'chimera' in everything.
"Not a chimera—it's surgical transplantation. If done surgically, though, the most stable way would be my method."
"Fascinating. Go on."
I gave a curt nod to the chimera lover and continued.
"Simply butting the dead Knight Hollman's arm against my stump, pouring stamina potion on it, casting healing magic, or just sewing it up won't work."
"Why not?"
"You might think same-part-to-same-part would just heal right up. But the body's internals are insanely complex. Even a single arm transplant requires reconnecting muscles, bones, bone marrow, nails, nerves, blood vessels—a high-difficulty procedure."
Arm transplants are tough enough; grafting extra limbs and faces where none belonged? No wonder chimeras fail. Drop it already.
"So, there's no way to successfully complete a chimera?"
God, this guy's insane. Why the obsession?
"I'm no expert on magic, but surgically? Near impossible."
"Near impossible..."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Even if you perfectly reconnect every tissue—muscle, bone, marrow, nerves, vessels—it's still someone else's arm in your body. That can trigger immune rejection."
"Immune rejection?"
The emperor shot me a demanding look. I wanted to snap back coldly, but status ruled here, so I smiled sweetly and explained.
"Yes, Your Majesty. The moment a donor organ is transplanted and blood flows through its vessels, it can spark hyperacute rejection that threatens the patient's life."
"What exactly is rejection?"
"Rejection is the body's reaction to expel a mismatched organ. It can hit immediately or stay quiet at first, then flare up with inflammation or necrosis after a week or ten days."
Honestly, having this draining talk in such a solemn atmosphere felt absurd, but the emperor's face grew graver than a period mark.
"No way to fix rejection once it starts?"
"Immunosuppressants can help, but treatment varies by timing and severity."
And with that, I shut down the damn chimera topic for good.
"In summary, even between humans, organ transplants from same-site donors are incredibly difficult."
"Hmm..."
"So, as a doctor, my opinion is that slapping extra faces where one should be or six more arms where two belong—like the subhumans claim—naturally causes inflammation and inevitable death."
"......"
My final nail in the chimera coffin left the emperor grunting silently, chimera talk mercifully dropped.
"But suppose someone was born a chimera—what would you think?"
"Y-Your Majesty..."
Of course, it was wishful thinking. The chimera fetishist was more tenacious than I'd imagined, and even his right-hand man Theodore was stammering in disbelief.
"...No, never mind."
No my ass. You'll ask again soon anyway, you punk.
I had no clue why he fixated on chimeras, but if he was curious, sharing was basic decency.
"I've never seen a real chimera, so born ones are hard to picture. But back home, we had occasional Siamese twins—conjoined twins, similar to what you might imagine."
"Conjoined... twins? Tell me more!"
The emperor revved up like a race car, but I was past caring. Today, I'd burn it all to satisfy his curiosity.
"Conjoined twins are identical twins fused abnormally at birth. They're classified into five types by attachment site."
"Th-the five types! Name them!"
What the hell is this guy on? Eyes bulging, yelling for conjoined twin details—like Cache said, total nutjob.
"Yes, Your Majesty. Thoracopagus for chest fusion, omphalopagus for abdomen, ischiopagus for pelvis, pygopagus for buttocks, and craniopagus for heads."
"Crania... craniopagus... Haa..."
The emperor, stern-faced through my spiel, started rubbing his temples like his head hurt. Guard Captain Theodore eyed him with deep concern.
"Your Majesty... perhaps we end here? The Gold Baron traveled far; rest would be wise."
"......"
The emperor wheezed ragged breaths, ignoring Theodore as if he couldn't snap out of it.
"Fine... No—Gold Baron. One more question."
Knew it. Curiosity black hole, this guy.
"Of course, Your Majesty."
"Is there a way to separate conjoined twins?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Y-you can?!"
"Not my specialty, so I don't do it routinely. But for a patient who needs it, I would. No hands-on experience, but I know the theory."
"Right... I see."
"Yes, Your Majesty. But some cases make surgery impossible."
"Like what?"
His eyes sharpened on me.
"They're identical twins fused, sharing organs, brains, or major vessels—separation's off the table."
"Your Majesty..."
Theodore murmured the emperor's name softly, like ringing a restaurant buzzer—practically signaling me to keep explaining.
"Simply put, while called conjoined twins—or Siamese twins to the public—the key to separation is saving both. If they share vital organs, surgery risks both lives, or forces sacrificing one."
"...Yes, saving both would be ideal if possible."
"Exactly, Your Majesty. Variations are huge even within types, so depending on shared organs, both could die—or one must be sacrificed due to organ limits."
I had no idea how chimera talk veered into Siamese twin separations, but it stirred unease. As I'd told him, choosing one over the other sparked ethical, religious, social, and legal nightmares.
"Not your average mage—or doctor, for that matter. You're no ordinary man. You must be tired; go rest."
"Yes, Your Majesty. I'll take my leave."
"Gold Baron, go ahead. A maid waits outside to guide you to your room."
"Thank you, Knight Hollman. Excuse me."
Exiting the audience chamber, a maid awaited as promised, leading me to the guest quarters.
"Your room adjoins the Gold faction's, Baron. No inconveniences."
En route, she explained palace layout, meal times—everything I'd wonder about. Passing a portrait of a young boy, I paused; she jumped right in.
"The little sun of the Initium Empire."
"The crown prince?"
"Yes."
She beamed proudly. Then it hit me—maybe the emperor's chimera and twin fixation tied to the prince?
"I'm from the East Continent, so forgive my ignorance... Does His Highness have any siblings?"