Chapter 10

In the tranquil courtyard of Crystal Baycourt, an old man wrapped in a white mink coat sat playing chess with a young girl in a teal-blue tunic.

She looked about eighteen or nineteen, ponytail tied high. She looked lively and mischievous.

"Grandpa, you've lost again," Cassidy Caison said, placing a white piece on the board. She stuck out her tongue playfully. "You're so bad at this—can't even win a single game against me."

"Maybe it's because I'm getting old," Robert replied, eyes drifting to the black piece in his hand, gaze lost in memories long gone.

"You're only fifty-nine," she retorted. "That's not old at all."

Just as her voice faded, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the courtyard behind them. A servant's voice followed, "Ms. Cassidy, Scarlet Madison of the Madison family has come to visit."

"Hm?"

Cassidy looked up at the woman walking toward them. She was elegant, with a sultry charm that turned heads. Cassidy's face remained neutral.

"What do you want, Ms. Scarlet?"

"Ms. Cassidy, I heard your family is planning to invest in an international music academy here in Vermillion Delta. The Madison family happens to have experience in that area, so I was thinking…"

Her tone was deferential, almost overly polite.

But before she could finish, Cassidy shook her head and interrupted, her voice flat, "Ms. Scarlet, please leave. I'm spending time with my grandfather today. I'm not in the mood to talk business."

"Then… may I at least leave you my card?" Scarlet asked, her voice almost pleading.

Cassidy's status was far too high. She was the granddaughter of a legendary Aetherlord. Scarlet had no choice but to humble herself.

But Cassidy's voice turned cold. "No need. You and I live in different worlds. After today, we won't cross paths again."

With that, she turned to a servant nearby. "See her out."

Even after being brushed off so bluntly, Scarlet didn't dare show a trace of anger. Instead, she forced a smile.

"Sorry for taking your time, Ms. Cassidy."

Only after Scarlet had left did Cassidy huff, folding her arms. "Why do there always have to be nuisances coming around to disturb Grandpa's peace? So annoying."

The old man in the fur coat merely chuckled, shaking his head.

"Cassidy, when you're rich and powerful enough, these things are inevitable."

"Hmph. What's inevitable? They're just small-time nobodies trying to climb their way up by sucking up to you. If it were me, I'd make an example of one—scare the rest of the ants off."

Her voice was brimming with disdain.

"Don't be so quick to threaten violence," Robert said gently. "Remember, we're in Vermillion Delta, not Sacholles. We're on someone else's turf, it's better to keep a low profile."

Just as he finished speaking, his face suddenly turned pale.

Then—

Pfft.

A mouthful of dark blood burst from his lips.

"Grandpa!"

"Master Robert!"

Cassidy and the servants around her jumped to their feet, panic surging through them.

"I'm fine… it's just my old illness acting up again," Robert murmured, wiping the blood from his mouth.

He tried to reassure his granddaughter—but before he could finish, his vision went dark and he collapsed.

"Grandpa?!"

Cassidy lunged toward him, her voice cracking. "Quick, call for a doctor! The best one you can find!"

And so they did.

Several of Vermillion Delta's top physicians were summoned. But none could help.

One of them, just before leaving, sighed and said, "Master Robert's internal organs are completely failing. He won't live past sixty. This isn't illness—it's fate."

Upon hearing those words, Cassidy collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

Her wails still echoed when a servant came running over again. "Ms. Cassidy, Lucy Hudds from Hudds Ventures in Goldspire is here to see you."

"Ms. Cassidy," Lucy began, "I heard your family intends to invest in an international music academy in Vermillion Delta, and—"

"Get out!" Cassidy screamed, her voice hoarse with grief. "Get out of here! It's all because of you people—your constant bothering—that my grandfather's illness came back! Leave! I won't work with any of you!"

Lucy froze in shock. Only now did she realize what had happened—Robert had collapsed, and even the best doctors were powerless. No wonder Cassidy was beside herself with rage.

"…I see."

She exhaled softly, bowed, and turned to leave.

But just as she was about to go, something seemed to occur to her. She paused, then looked back and hesitated.

"Ms. Cassidy… your grandfather's condition… may not be incurable."

"What did you say?" Cassidy's eyes snapped up. "You know how to cure him?"

"There's someone," Lucy said carefully, "who just might be able to help."

She told Cassidy the story of Emory, the man from Gracewell Clinic who had treated her father by drawing symbols.

"Symbols?" Cassidy frowned. Even she had never heard of such an unusual treatment.

"Bring him to me," she said without much conviction. "If he truly can cure my grandfather, we will reward him well."

She said it casually.

Deep down, she knew—her grandfather's illness was beyond help. No one in all of nine realms could save him.

Still, she couldn't bring herself to give up.

At the very least—

She didn't want to live with regret.

…

Meanwhile, Emory was at the job centre, scanning the walls for postings, scanning faces for something that might resemble opportunity.

After all, Helen had made it clear just the night before: they wouldn't be feeding any freeloaders in their house. And Emory, for all his quiet pride, couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life being supported by his wife.

So, he'd decided it was time to find a respectable job. Something honest. Something he could call his own.

"Hey! Finally, I found you."

A silver Audi pulled to a stop right in front of him.

He turned. "You?"

It was Lucy, stepping out of the car, a little breathless from the rush.

"You're looking for me?" Emory asked, more curious than surprised.

"Not me," she said. "The Caisons from Nambern."

She told him what had happened—how Robert had collapsed, how the illness had flared up without warning.

But Emory only shook his head. "Sorry. I'm looking for work right now. I don't have time to treat anyone."

"Oh, don't be foolish," she said, almost laughing. "If you cure Master Robert, what kind of job couldn't you find? Who knows? Ms. Cassidy might even gift you a listed company. You'd be your own boss—better than working for someone else, isn't it?"

Emory paused and thought about it, then gave a slow nod. "Sounds fair. Lead the way."

…

Half an hour later, they arrived at Crystal Baycourt.

"Ms. Cassidy, I brought the miracle doctor," Lucy said, her voice careful, almost reverent, as she gave a small bow.

"This is the one you spoke of? The man who treats illnesses with symbols?" Cassidy studied Emory with a complicated look in her eyes.

"Yes," Lucy confirmed, nodding firmly. "This is him."

Cassidy didn't answer. She just stared.

Because honestly—he looked far too young. The youngest "miracle doctor" she'd ever met had been in his fifties. But this man? He didn't look a day over thirty.

So young. Even if he knew something about medicine—how skilled could he really be?

"Ms. Cassidy, why not let him examine Master Robert first?" Seeing her hesitation, Lucy offered gently. "Just a diagnosis, at least?"

"…Fine," Cassidy murmured, pinching the space between her brows. "Let him try."

Truthfully, the moment she'd seen Emory's face, all her hope had faded.

She wasn't expecting anything now.

And yet, the moment Emory placed his hand on Robert's forehead, the old Aetherlord who had been unconscious for hours… slowly opened one eye.

"Grandpa?"