That certainly made sense—a piece of shit like Ned would never encounter someone more impressive than Abel.
If that young man was really as impressive as he bragged, why was he not famous?
With that in mind, Yed stared at Frank from the back, sneering coldly.
Eight million? More like poetic justice!
If Frank never insulted him, Yed would have been content with giving the conman beating and throwing him out of his mansion.
However, Frank’s pompous attitude had thoroughly left Yed incensed—and no one insulted the Jankos and got away with it!
–
Soon, the Jankos were once again gathered in Ciril’s bedroom.
Frank strode up to Ciril, and with just a single look, shook his head and said, “Taut Snow Tree—one of Hundred Bane Sect’s finest. The Yellow Shrive would only have kept Mr. Janko alive for a few days instead of clearing it completely.”
Abel frowned right then—could he have been mistaken?
The way the kid identified the poison right away and without closer inspection… It was simply outrageous!
Perhaps he was really as good as he bragged too?
That was when Yed chuckled coolly. “Mr. Loggins has already identified the poison. I’m sure Ned told you—quit being dramatic already.”
“I see…” Abel nodded and breathed a sigh of relief.
After all, he would really be humiliated if some youth diagnosed Ciril quicker than he did…
That was when Ned began, “I never told—”
Frank raised a hand, stopping him. “It’s fine. It’s not important.”
Sweeping his gaze over everyone, he said nonchalantly, “I can treat this poison, but I will need five silver needles—one thick and four thin. And boil a bucket of hot water. Do it right now.”
“You heard the man! Go!” Lothar barked at the servants right then.
He was sweating all over his brow, feeling cornered just then.
If anything, he was the one in the room who was most reluctant to let Ciril die.
Their fire-forged brother aside, if Ciril really died, an upheaval would ensue for the Jankos.
With Ciril’s leadership as an Ascendant rank gone, the family’s retainers would quickly disband and leave, while the rest of them would be reduced to a succulent chunk of meat that the other families would drool over.
At that point, forget their pursuit to rise as one of the Four Families of Morhen—their survival in Morhen would actually be called into question.
That was why Lothar was hoping that something was better than nothing.
Even if Frank was bragging endlessly and he had his misgivings about the boy, he did as told.
If Abel Loggins—Morhen’s most famous healer—was helpless, whatever could he do?
As the servants brought everything Frank asked for, he said, “Everyone, keep your distance.”
Without hesitation, he pinched one of the thin needles and projected his pure vigor, directing it to spiral around the tip of the needle.
“What…?”
Lothar’s eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of Frank’s technique.
Only Birthright ranks were capable of purifying vigor and projecting it.
The fact that this youth could do it meant he was one at his young age, which set him on the same level as the other heirs of the Four Families of Morhen!
