Rumors about Princess Vanessa's condition spread through the Imperial City faster than anyone could contain them.
"She's worse today. None of the physicians have been able to cure her."
"I heard she's screaming so loudly that even the palace servants are terrified."
"The blisters are enormous. They say she can barely endure the pain anymore."
"Keep your voice down! Do you want to be punished?"
"Tch. Princess or not, she's arrogant every day. Who knows what she's done to offend someone? Perhaps this is retribution."
The whispers multiplied as they passed from one person to another. Before long, groups of citizens had gathered outside the Imperial Palace, pretending to have ordinary business in the area while stealing glances toward the towering gates.
Some were genuinely concerned about the princess.
Others were simply curious.
And there were always those who enjoyed watching someone powerful suffer, especially when that person had spent years looking down on everyone beneath them.
By the third day, however, the situation inside the palace had become far more serious.
Panic had begun to spread through the Eastern Palace.
The Emperor's temper grew worse with every failed treatment. One physician after another had examined Vanessa, prescribed medicines, changed their methods, and attempted treatments that would normally have been considered more than sufficient.
None of them worked.
The strange blisters continued to spread, and the pain showed no sign of weakening.
The Physicians were running out of answers.
The servants were terrified that they would somehow be blamed for the princess's condition.
Even the atmosphere within the palace seemed to have become oppressive.
Everyone was waiting for something to happen.
And at last, inside Origin Medical Hall, Zion decided that the time had come.
He stood before the shelves of medicine and calmly lifted his medicine box. Yet beneath that composed expression, a faint spark of anticipation appeared in his eyes.
'It's time.'
He had deliberately waited.
Seven days had passed since he had planted the poison, and for the past three days, the Imperial Palace had exhausted its physicians trying to deal with Vanessa's condition. If he delayed much longer, there was a chance the poison might actually claim her life.
That would be too merciful.
More importantly, it would ruin the purpose behind everything he had done.
Zion had never intended to kill Vanessa immediately. He wanted the palace to reach the point where it had no other choice but to seek him out.
Now, that moment had arrived.
He closed the medicine box, slipped it beneath his arm, and walked out of Origin Medical Hall.
His destination was the Imperial Palace.
***
By the time Zion reached the massive gates of the Imperial City, the streets around the entrance were already crowded.
The guards stationed there immediately noticed the unfamiliar young man approaching with a medicine box.
One of them stepped forward and raised his hand.
"Who goes there?"
Zion stopped.
"I am a physician," he answered calmly. "I'm here to treat Her Highness."
The guards looked him over.
Their expressions quickly changed from caution to disbelief.
A young man who looked barely old enough to have established himself as a physician was standing before the gates of the Imperial City, claiming that he had come to cure the princess after every renowned Physician in the palace had failed.
One guard frowned.
"You? A physician?"
Another guard glanced at Zion's medicine box before looking back at his face.
"Enough nonsense. Leave. This isn't a place for children to play Physician."
Zion's expression did not change.
He had expected something like this.
Rather than argue, he simply lifted his chin slightly.
The relaxed air surrounding him vanished.
A cold, commanding presence emerged from his posture, subtle at first, but unmistakable once the guards felt it. It wasn't the pressure of raw strength alone. There was something in his eyes that made him seem completely certain that he had the right to stand there.
"I said I'm a physician," Zion repeated, his voice still calm. "If you prevent me from treating the princess and her condition worsens because of the delay, be careful that the person who loses his head isn't me."
The guards went silent.
His words were not loud.
They did not need to be.
There was no hesitation in his voice, no trace of fear at the thought of threatening palace guards within the Imperial City.
The guards exchanged uneasy glances.
This young man was strange.
He was far too young to possess such composure, yet his manner carried an authority that made even experienced palace guards instinctively take him seriously. It was the kind of confidence they normally encountered only when dealing with powerful nobles or high-ranking officials.
And somehow, this young physician possessed it naturally.
'Who exactly is he?'
The guard who had spoken first finally stepped aside.
"This way, Physician."
Zion followed without another word.
***
The moment he entered the Imperial City, the scale of the palace district became impossible to ignore.
Golden roofs stretched beneath the sunlight, supported by towering pillars carved with intricate dragon patterns. Wide marble paths divided the palace grounds, while servants and guards hurried between the various halls.
Everything reflected the dignity and wealth of the imperial dynasty.
But today, that dignity had been overshadowed by tension.
The guards escorted Zion deeper into the palace until they reached the Eastern Palace.
Normally, the area would have been relatively quiet.
Today, it was anything but.
Physicians were gathered throughout the surrounding halls. Some were discussing prescriptions in low voices, while others argued over symptoms and possible treatments. Several assistants carried medicine trays back and forth, and the smell of medicinal herbs lingered heavily in the air.
The palace had already summoned too many Physicians to count.
Another physician arriving at this point barely attracted anyone's attention.
At least, that was what the Physicians assumed.
The moment they actually looked at Zion, however, the atmosphere changed.
"A young man?"
"He looks like a child."
"Is the palace really so desperate that they're accepting anyone now?"
"He can't have much experience."
The murmurs spread.
An elderly physician sitting near the entrance finally lost his patience. He pushed himself to his feet and stared at the guard who had brought Zion inside.
"Who brought him here?"
The guard immediately looked uncomfortable.
Before he could answer, the old physician's expression darkened.
"Are you people out of your minds? The princess is seriously ill, and you bring a child here?"
The guard wisely decided that this was the perfect time to disappear.
He had escorted the physician to the Eastern Palace.
His job was finished.
There was absolutely no reason for him to remain and become the target of a room full of furious physicians.
With a stiff bow, he turned around and left.
Zion watched him go without comment.
'Smart.'
The remaining physicians continued staring at him.
Their expressions ranged from skepticism to outright irritation.
The elderly physician, Rolant, was among the most doubtful.
He had spent decades studying medicine. He had seen countless patients and had earned his position within the Imperial Palace through ability rather than empty reputation.
Now a young man who looked barely old enough to have established a medical practice had walked into the middle of the palace's greatest medical crisis and claimed he could cure the princess.
It was difficult to take seriously.
Yet Zion didn't look nervous.
That was what bothered Rolant most.
There was no uncertainty in his expression. No awkwardness from being surrounded by senior physicians. He simply stood there, calmly observing the people around him as though their hostility was nothing more than an inconvenience.
"Mister," Zion said, "you haven't even let me see the princess. How do you know I can't treat her?"
Rolant paused.
The young man's tone wasn't disrespectful.
He was simply stating a fact.
Rolant studied him more carefully.
There was something unusual about this physician's composure. His age was obvious, but his psychological strength didn't match it. Most young Physicians would have become nervous after entering a place like this. A single mistake today could attract the Emperor's wrath.
Yet this boy seemed completely unaffected.
Even so, Rolant didn't allow himself to be persuaded.
"Because of your age," he said after a moment. "Even if you began studying medicine the moment you learned to speak, you couldn't possibly have accumulated enough experience to handle a case like this."
His voice softened slightly.
"This place is dangerous today. Every physician here is under tremendous pressure. If you make a mistake, the consequences may not be limited to your reputation. Go home while you still can."
Rolant wasn't trying to humiliate him.
It was a genuine warning.
The Emperor was furious, the princess was suffering, and the palace physicians had already failed repeatedly. If another Physician made matters worse, someone would inevitably have to bear the consequences.
There was no reason for such a young physician to throw himself into that situation.
Zion was about to answer when an arrogant voice suddenly rang out from behind them.
"What nonsense. The palace physicians have fallen so far that they've started bringing little brats in to treat the princess?"
The physicians turned toward the entrance.
A man in his forties was waddling into the hall, his round belly stretching prominently beneath a dark green robe. His small eyes gleamed with self-satisfaction, and he carried himself with the confidence of someone who believed the entire room should have been waiting for his arrival.
Rolant's expression immediately hardened.
"Aurelius."
The man's lips curled into a smug smile.
"I see you still remember me."
Aurelius stopped a few steps away and looked around the hall as though inspecting a place beneath him.
"I was thrown out of the Imperial Hospital because of you," he said. "And now look at you. The palace is in chaos, the princess is dying, and you people are desperate enough to summon anyone who claims to be a physician."
Rolant's face became colder.
"You were removed because you had no medical ethics."
"Medical ethics?"
Aurelius laughed.
"Will your ethics cure a dying princess?"
His gaze swept across the gathered physicians.
"What matters is skill. And I have more of that than any of you."
He paused deliberately, then glanced at Zion.
"Apparently, you've become so desperate that you've started relying on children."
The insult landed exactly as intended.
A few physicians clenched their jaws.
Aurelius had always been difficult to tolerate, but today his arrogance was especially irritating. The palace physicians had been working around the clock for days. None of them wanted to hear a man who had once been expelled from the Imperial Hospital lecture them about competence.
Aurelius continued.
"I've only been away for a few years, yet the Imperial Hospital has fallen this far. What a disappointment."
Zion raised an eyebrow.
He hadn't even said anything to this man.
Yet somehow, Aurelius had already dragged him into the argument.
'What an unlucky way to get involved.'
Several pharmacists and physicians nearby exchanged irritated looks.
Aurelius had insulted practically everyone in the room without even examining the princess's condition.
Then his eyes settled on Zion.
The smugness on his face deepened.
"You there. Little boy. Why are you staring at me?"
Zion looked him up and down.
The man's round belly, dark green robe, and increasingly unpleasant expression registered in his mind for all of two seconds.
Then Zion answered without the slightest hesitation.
"I'm looking at a walking fat pig. What about it?"
Silence swallowed the hall.
For a heartbeat, nobody moved.
Then someone snorted.
Another physician covered his mouth.
A pharmacist turned away, shoulders shaking.
The laughter spread before anyone could stop it.
Aurelius stood there, completely stunned.
He had expected fear.
Perhaps obedience.
At the very least, he had expected a young physician to lower his head after being addressed so aggressively.
Instead, the boy had looked directly at him and called him a pig.
Aurelius's face rapidly turned red.
"You..."
His voice trembled with fury.
"You little brat! Clearly, no one ever taught you proper manners. Didn't your mother teach you to respect your elders?"
The laughter around him only made his humiliation worse.
Zion's expression changed.
The amusement disappeared from his eyes.
He had tolerated Aurelius's insults because they were aimed at him. But dragging his family into the matter was another thing entirely.
His gaze became cold.
"How old are you?" Zion asked.
Aurelius blinked.
Zion took a slow step forward.
"And what exactly gives you the right to interfere in my business?"
There was no fear in his voice.
Only contempt.
Aurelius opened his mouth, but before he could answer, the atmosphere inside the hall abruptly changed.
Zion's aura surged outward.
The pressure that had been barely noticeable at the city gates was no longer restrained.
It spread through the hall in an instant, heavy enough to make the surrounding physicians instinctively stiffen.
The laughter stopped.
The whispers died.
Several people felt their breathing become heavier beneath the sudden pressure.
Zion's eyes remained fixed on Aurelius.
"You want to teach me discipline?"
His voice was quiet.
"Fine."
The pressure intensified.
"I'll teach you instead."