Fantasy Clinic: Chronicles of a 3rd-Rate Doctor
Chapter 34: Court of Thrones
The palace hadn't changed—but it felt different.
Where guards once stood in golden armor, now cloaked figures lined the halls. Their armor pulsed faintly, like it breathed. Veins of crimson root crept across the marble walls.
Elric walked the familiar path toward the throne room, flanked by the cloaked envoy and Lira at his side.
"You sure this isn't a trap?" she whispered.
He gave a dry chuckle. "Oh, it's definitely a trap. But I still have patients here."
---
Meanwhile in the Lower Quarter
Back at the makeshift clinic, Sylas was treating a fevered merchant whose skin bubbled with black spores.
"Root-plague mutation," Sylas noted. "Breathing rate's high. We'll need Elric's blue serum."
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