Moreover, there was mastery in the way Frank directed his pure vigor—even the average Birthright rank would never accomplish that!
“Could he have completed Birthright rank?” Lothar murmured.
While his own hunch shocked him, his heart was also suddenly welling up with hope.
The kid just might be able to save his brother’s life!
“Bastard…”
On the other hand, Yed’s pupils dilated as he watched Frank perform acupuncture.
The brat was Birthright rank too? Did that mean he was actually capable of saving Ciril?!
The thought left him anxious right then!
Beside him, Abel’s doubt toward Frank was completely dispelled even as he watched him and murmured, “The Five Plum Spiritus technique…?!”
It took one to know one, and Abel’s face paled as he watched Frank work on Ciril.
He was suddenly remorseful, since he had been rude to the boy!
He was still stubborn about asking Frank the identity of his mentor, or where he had gotten the Yellow Shrive from…
But now, it was obvious that Frank was telling the truth, and that he was the one who refined the Yellow Shrive!
After all, the Five Plum Spiritus acupuncture technique was one of the most sublime disciplines in traditional Draconia medicine, but it had been lost for over a century.
Abel himself had read about it from some yellowed, shriveled text but could never master it. It was not until much later that he realized that it required the complement of pure vigor.
Martial arts and traditional Draconia medicine was inseparable, they used to say.
Now, Abel more or less understood why such a profound tradition would be lost in time—most of the medical techniques required one to be a martial artist!
Individuals who could master medicine and martial arts at the same time were assuredly a rarity… but there was one now, standing right before Abel!
He was thoroughly disappointed in himself right then—if only he had shown Frank more respect earlier!
“Here, and here…”
Meanwhile, Frank was busy inserting the thin needles across Ciril’s chest before thrusting the thickest at the center in the shape of a plum.
Then, pulling Ciril up so that he was sitting up, Frank moved behind him and struck him rapidly, repeatedly and audibly with two fingers.
While everyone looked on in shock, Abel could see what Frank was doing.
His legs almost buckled and he almost dropped to his knees.
“The Pathos Seal? Yet another lost technique!” he cried. “So it really exists… not just in texts! Heavens, who is this boy?!”
Abel’s reaction left Yed on edge right then—it was clear that Frank was skilled, but he was not about to let him save that geezer!
Yed gritted his molars and narrowed at his own son Hal…
Soon, Frank stopped after striking Ciril’s back one last time, causing him to vomit a pool of black, clotted blood.
Then, turning toward Ned, he snapped, “Splash the hot water on his face now!”
Ned did not hesitate to carry out his orders, but Yed stopped him even as he raised the bucket.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” Yed bellowed. “That water was just boiled! Don’t you know what happens if you splash it on your father’s face?!”
“Buzz off!” Ned shoved him away, not interested in playing along with Yed’s whims any longer.
He splashed the bucket of boiling water on Ciril’s face, and Ciril suddenly screamed, “Argh!!!”
The room was left in an uproar as steam swirled in the air.
“See what you’ve done?!” Yed seized Ned by the collar right then. “That settles it. You were definitely trying to kill our father!”
