Saved Him, Now I'm Obsessed (10 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 4

  1. Home
  2. Saved Him, Now I'm Obsessed (10 Chapters Left to Complete)
  3. Chapter 4
Prev
Next

Shuri and Ileina badgered the healer with worry-filled faces. They seemed startled by the diagnosis of “amnesia.” Ileina asked the healer pitifully,

“What should we do now?”

Yet the healer simply smiled with utmost gentleness.

His expression was far too serene for someone who had just moments ago been dangling from the massive Shuri’s fingertips before being tossed aside. He looked like a holy man summoned by the gods themselves. In a voice as calm as his face, he replied,

“What else can we do? We should rush to the temple right away and offer a prayer of gratitude. Lady McKane’s awakening is a miracle, regardless of her memory loss.”

“Huh?”

“What?”

Despite Shuri’s increasingly fierce expression, the healer paid no heed and continued speaking with an almost sacred countenance.

“It may sound absurd coming from a healer, but until now, I believed Lady McKane required not a healer—but an undertaker. After all, there was nothing I could do for her.”

Though I agreed that Lady McKane had likely been considered dead already… now I understood why that healer ended up dangling helplessly in Shuri’s grip.

One must always be careful when dealing with patients and their families—yet he claimed an undertaker was needed? That hardly sounded like something a healer should say. I stared at him in utter shock.

Shuri and Ileina seemed to share my feelings, looking at the healer with incredulous expressions.

No, in Shuri’s case, it went beyond mere disbelief—he had such a violent glare that, if not for my presence, he might have torn the man apart barehanded.

Could the healer really not see those enormous fists? If struck by one, he himself would surely need an undertaker…

Though Claire McKane’s recent deeds had garnered attention, Shuri McKane was also an immensely famous figure.

He was the only knight the current Emperor truly trusted. Though sometimes mockingly called “the Emperor’s guard dog,” this nickname was precisely proof of the Emperor’s deep reliance on him.

It was said he would crawl on the floor if the Emperor commanded it. Known not only for his unwavering loyalty but also for his exceptional combat prowess, he was rumored to take lives without hesitation or mercy when carrying out imperial orders.

I’d heard that he, the eldest grandson of the McKane family—a house nearly ruined in the provinces—began establishing himself in the capital after demonstrating remarkable skill at the martial tournament held to select the Emperor’s personal knights.

The mere fact that the McKane baronial house had been elevated to an earldom was enough to gauge just how extraordinary he truly was.

Seeing him mutter “little cherry…” to me with reddened eyes, I briefly wondered if he might be a different person with the same name—but that uniquely imposing, even intimidating stature, rarely seen among ordinary folk, confirmed it was indeed him.

And yet, that healer dared speak so recklessly right in front of such a man—making him impressive in his own bizarre way.

“So you’re saying Claire’s memory can’t be restored?”

Shuri gritted his teeth as he asked.

Intimidated by Shuri’s ferocity, the healer slowly edged toward the door while replying in an agitated voice,

“There’s no special treatment for amnesia. All we can do is wait patiently for her memories to return naturally. Of course, symptoms vary by patient—some regain their memories over time, while others may never recover them at all.”

“You mean her memory might never come back?”

“Oh dear…”

Shuri and Ileina wore deeply crestfallen expressions, but the healer, his face still glowing with almost fanatical elation, pressed on,

“But does it truly matter whether Lady McKane remembers or not? What’s important is that she awoke perfectly healthy and unharmed. Is this not extraordinary? Didn’t you see? Her skull was nearly crushed! And yet she’s regained full consciousness like this! Having witnessed such a miracle, we shouldn’t waste time worrying needlessly—we must hurry to the temple and offer thanks.”

He looked as if he’d just beheld the face of God himself. With his faith brimming, he hurriedly gathered his bag, clearly ready to sprint to the temple immediately.

“Well then, I shall take my leave. May God’s grace be upon you all…”

As he scrambled out the door, leaving behind that pious farewell, I watched his retreating back in a daze and murmured,

“That healer… he must be a truly devout believer.”

“…”

“…”

Shuri and Ileina stared at me, utterly bewildered about how to process this situation.

Truth be told, I was just as lost… How was anyone supposed to accept waking up as a completely different person?

‘The last thing I clearly remembered before the fire was getting lost in the Imperial Capital after so long… or was it when the Chief Steward visited the apothecary?’

To explain all this, I’d first need to recount how I—a mere commoner apothecary—came to meet Crown Prince Ian and the Chief Steward.

[This is the timeline separator]

It was about two months after Grandfather and I had moved from a small port town in the Kingdom of Monfernana to the capital of the Carlobanian Empire—seventeen years ago from now.

Rain poured down like a waterfall, as if the sky itself had been ripped open. The streets, gloomy since early morning, lay deserted.

Just as I was about to ask Grandfather, “Since no one will come for medicine on a day like this, shall I organize the herbs vulnerable to dampness?”

Someone violently pounded on the door before I could finish my sentence. Thinking something urgent had happened, I hurried to open it—and in strode an elderly man under a black umbrella, his face grim as he spoke threateningly to Grandfather,

“There’s somewhere you must go. Come quietly with me.”

Grandfather turned his head, puzzled, toward the direction of the stranger’s voice.

I stepped in front of him and demanded,

“What’s going on? Why do you think you can just barge in and take my grandfather away?”

“This is no matter for a child to meddle in.”

I was ten years old at the time—undeniably young by today’s standards—but back then, I bristled whenever treated like a child.

Trending

“I’m not a child—I’m an apprentice apothecary and co-owner of this shop. So you’d better explain yourself. Why charge in here and try to drag away my grandfather?”

“There’s a patient—an extremely important person.”

Hearing this, my eyes widened. Though I barely reached his waist and posed no real threat, I did my best to appear fierce, adopting the roughest tone I could muster,

“If they’re so important, you should be seeking a healer—not an apothecary.”

I was confident Grandfather’s medical skill surpassed that of most healers.

In the Kingdom of Monfernana, the distinction between apothecaries and healers wasn’t significant—but in the Carlobanian Empire, healers were a profession reserved exclusively for nobles, and thus held in higher esteem.

If this patient was “important,” they were surely noble—and nobles refused treatment from lowborn apothecaries, believing only noble-born healers could preserve their dignity.

Of course, some impoverished nobles did seek apothecaries when they couldn’t afford proper decorum—but they were the exception.

Thus, this stranger’s behavior—abruptly seeking out a blind, foreign-born apothecary for a noble patient—seemed highly suspicious.

“No healer has been able to identify the exact illness. I heard this city’s apothecary once traveled extensively across many lands. If you can cure… ahem, that person, you’ll be richly rewarded.”

“Then I’m coming too.”

“We don’t have time for this.”

Annoyed by my protests, he shoved my shoulder aside.

I dug my heels in firmly, refusing to budge against his larger frame. A terrible fear gripped me—if I let him take Grandfather alone, I might never see him again.

“My grandfather is blind.”

“…I know.”

He replied after a slight pause.

If he already knew Grandfather was blind, why had he come all this way?

He’d hastily corrected himself from “His Highness” to “that person,” but I’d clearly heard “His Highness.” In the Carlobanian Empire, only a handful bore that title.

A chilling thought struck me—what had become of those healers who couldn’t determine the exact diagnosis? Were they even still alive?

“Then I must come with you. You don’t need a blind old man—you need an apothecary who can treat that person.”

Grandfather, who would normally have scolded me for calling him a “blind old man,” remained silent this time. He must have sensed something ominous.

I wondered—had some catastrophe befallen that exalted individual? Perhaps this matter required absolute secrecy—and they’d sought someone who could keep it… or be easily silenced afterward.

A blind apothecary—recently arrived from abroad, an outsider. Easy to dispose of once the task was done…

“When Grandfather treats patients, I’m always essential. I serve as his eyes. So if you truly want that person healed, you must take me with you.”

With clear reluctance, the old man gave a slow nod.

“Hmph… Very well. I suppose we have no choice. Let’s depart at once.”

Most Commented This Week
Prev
Next

YOUR COMMENT

1. Please write comments in English.
2. Inline comments are now available. Tap the end of any line in a chapter to share your thoughts instantly.