“See what you’ve done?!” Yed seized Ned by the collar right then. “That settles it. You were definitely trying to kill our father!”
However, Lothar exclaimed in surprise before Yed could hit Ned. “Stop! Look!”
Everyone looked where Lothar pointed.
Then, they saw that Ciril’s face was shedding black ice shards all over the floor where the boiling water had made contact.
“What? How…” Yed was stunned.
Ned freed himself from his grasp, sneering. “It seems that you’re the one who doesn’t want Father saved, Yed!”
“What…” Yed was left speechless.
“Watch your mouth, Ned!” Paula promptly leapt to Yed’s defense. “He’s worried about your father. Why would he try to hurt your father?”
“Exactly!” Yed nodded despite his gnawing guilt.
On the other hand, seeing that his work was done, Frank breathed a soft sigh and lowered Ciril, allowing him to lay in bed.
A healthy red had returned to Ciril’s cheeks too—a far cry from the purple complexion earlier. Although he was still unconscious, it was clear that he was normal again.
“Alright, my work is done,” Frank said as he took a towel from a servant to wipe his hands.
Looking around at the Jankos, he pointed at Ciril and said, “Mr. Janko will wake up in half an hour. Make sure not to touch him at that time, or the collision of animus would lead to unforeseen consequences.”
Abel hurried to Ciril’s side just then, carefully inspecting Ciril’s breathing and complexion.
Then, as everyone looked on in shock, the most famous healer of Morhen dropped to his knees in front of Frank!
“Mr. Lawrence…” He apologized earnestly, “I have been ignorant and insulted you before. Please, forgive me!”
Lothar was speechless. “Mr. Loggins, what…”
“Don’t worry.” Abel nodded at him. “Your brother is fine—as Mr. Lawrence has said, he’ll be up in half an hour.”
Then, turning back to Frank, he kowtowed at his feet and said, “I, Abel Loggins, have spent my life pursuing traditional Draconia medicine… To meet you today is more than what I could ever hope for! Please take me as your apprentice!”
Seeing a man in his eighties kowtowing humbly to a twentyish year old youth certainly left the Jankos dumbfounded, but Frank appeared nonchalant, as if he was used to it.
In fact, he was even waving off Abel. “Forget. You’re too old and your talent is mediocre. You’re beneath my tutelage.”
“What?!”
Frank’s words left the crowd petrified.
Abel Loggins, the most famous, and undisputed best healer of Morhen, was just labeled mediocre?!
What was more, Frank had told Abel that he was beneath his tutelage!
No matter how one looked at it, Frank’s arrogance was too much!
However, Abel was the only one in the room who understood what Frank really meant—he was accomplished in medicine, but he was also completely inept in martial arts.
And being as old as he was, he was certainly not qualified.
“Oh, that’s not what I mean, Mr. Lawrence,” Abel said politely nonetheless. “I’m not so greedy that I’d want to learn your marital techniques—I’d just like to learn some traditional medicine, such as pill refinement…”
“Don’t you feel embarrassed, as an old man kneeling to a kid?”
Frank smiled vaguely as he stared downward at Abel, who was still on his knees.
“Seniority doesn’t matter when it comes to knowledge.” Abel simply shrugged. “I may be old, but I’m no more than an ignorant child in your presence, Mr. Lawrence. What’s embarrassing about that?”
