An elderly retainer remained impassive as he growled, “Why waste your breath? Just kill him and be done with him.”
“I agree.” Another retainer in his fifties nodded in agreement. “Don’t blame us, brat. Blame your tactlessness and refusing the olive branch Mr. Turnbull extended!”
However, just as they were ready to attack, the doors to the reception hall opened.
“Eh?”
Frank, Glen and his retainers all turned to find a man with short hair striding in, his eyes flashing murderously.
And it was none other than Titus Lionheart himself.
“I warned you never to show up in Morhen, didn’t I?” He smiled. “Well, now that you’re here… prepare to die.”
He was escorted by several Ascendant rank elites, one of whom had reached peak Ascendant rank.
In an instant, the pressure was suddenly on Frank and he was caught on the backfoot.
“W-Where’s the patient? I’m busy,” someone spoke in inarticulate Draconian just then.
A middle-aged balding foreigner with blonde hair and blue eyes strode in just then. He was carrying a large briefcase and seemed so pompous that he was oblivious to the murderous vibe in the hall.
“Hmph.” Titus did not appear deterred that his impulse for payback was thwarted.
Turning toward Glen, he smiled faintly. “Mr. Turnbull, this is Professor Roberts, who works at a famous university abroad. He’s the global leading authority in virology and infectious diseases—he can deal with any conditions, no matter how difficult it might be.”
“Great!”
Glen exclaimed in delight when he heard Mr. Roberts’ credentials, giving Titus a thumbs up. “There is no need to worry when the Lionhearts step up! Don’t worry, Mr. Lionheart—I’ll visit your family personally to convey my thanks if my father is saved.”
“Heh. You’re being too humble now, Mr. Turnbull.” Titus smiled before turning toward Frank. “So, Mr. Turnbull told me you’re here to treat his father too?”
“As a matter of convenience, yes,” Frank replied, impassive. “Because Vicky asked.”
“Hmph.”
Titus snorted and scowled when Frank mentioned Vicky.
Still, his eyes soon flashed with disdain as he came up with an idea and turned toward Glen. “Mr. Turnbull, why don’t we let Frank join us to check on your father? We could let him give a demonstration of Draconian traditional medicine for Mr. Roberts.”
“What?”
Professor Roberts clearly overheard Titus and chuckled in amusement. “Draconian traditional medicine? It’s all a sham. They can’t even name the ingredients they put in a bottle, and they follow neither procedure nor scientific principles. Snake oil salesmen, all of them.”
Frank had no intention to get involved and play to Titus’ tune, but he narrowed his eyes when he heard the foreigner insulting Draconian traditional medicine.
“Really?” He asked. “Are you sure you’ve seen real Draconian traditional medicine?”
“Of course.” Professor Roberts scoffed, patting his chest audibly. “I’ve seen it and even put the soup they cooked for patients through lab tests. Nothing inside can cure illnesses in any form, which only proves my point—snake oil salesmen, conmen. Insignificant.”
