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Chapter 217

Chapter : 217

2 weeks ago · 5 min read

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"Move aside," Dr. Chiha ordered, pushing past the girls and kneeling beside the bed. He placed both hands on Luna's forehead and closed his eyes. A soft, golden light emanated from his palms as he channeled his diagnostic magic deep into her body.

The room went completely silent. Everyone watched the old doctor's face. The golden light pulsed. Once. Twice. Three times. Each pulse sank deeper into Luna's body, searching and examining every mana channel.

Then Dr. Chiha's expression changed. The calm, professional focus in his eyes shattered, replaced by something that looked a lot like genuine, deep fear.

He pulled his hands back slowly, staring at Luna's glowing blue veins as if they were the most terrifying thing he had ever seen. His jaw tightened, and a long, heavy breath escaped his lips.

"What is it?" Princess Iris asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Doctor, what is wrong with her?"

Dr. Chiha stood up. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with a tired, shaking hand. When he spoke, his voice was heavy and grim, like a judge delivering a death sentence.

"This is not a fever," he said slowly. "This is not a cold, or an infection, or any illness I have treated in forty years of medicine."

"Then what?" Naomi demanded, stepping forward. Her green eyes were burning with desperate urgency. "Tell us what is killing her!"

Dr. Chiha looked at each of them, one by one. His old face was pale, and his hands were trembling slightly at his sides. When he finally spoke, the words fell into the room like stones dropped into still water.

"It is called Blue Decay," he said. "An ancient, dormant mana poison that has been sleeping inside her body for years. It has now violently awakened."

Nobody spoke. The only sound was Luna's ragged breathing and the soft, eerie hum of the blue veins pulsing under her skin.

"It acts like a magical cancer," Dr. Chiha continued, his voice cracking with the weight of the diagnosis. "It eats away at her mana channels from the inside out. Every time her mana tries to flow, the poison consumes it and grows stronger."

"Can you cure it?" Sayma asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She was gripping her own arms so tightly that her knuckles were white.

Dr. Chiha shook his head slowly. "I can suppress it temporarily with high-level healing magic, but I cannot cure it. If we cannot find a way to neutralize the poison, her mana channels will collapse within days. Maybe a week at most."

"Days?" Zinia repeated, her strong voice reduced to a hollow whisper.

"At most," Dr. Chiha said quietly. "I am sorry."

The room fell into a horrible, suffocating silence. Luna's weak gasps were the only sound. The blue veins on her neck pulsed steadily, like a countdown timer ticking away the last moments of her life.

Naomi's fists clenched so hard her knuckles turned white. Laxmi stared at the floor, her flames completely gone. Zinia's jaw was tight, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Ira's blank expression did not change, but her hands trembled slightly.

Princess Iris closed her eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek, catching the flickering lamplight. She pressed her lips together, fighting to keep her composure, fighting to stay strong for her team.

Ken did not move from his corner. His face was still lazy, still sleepy, still slightly annoyed, like a man who had missed his afternoon nap and was mildly inconvenienced by the whole situation.

But behind those half-closed dark eyes, a different mind was already working. A mind that had read ten thousand stories, watched a thousand anime, and knew every plot twist ever written.

Blue Decay. A mana poison that eats channels from the inside. A magical cancer with no known cure in standard medicine.

Ken knew exactly where this story was going. And he knew exactly what he needed to do next.

---

The atmosphere in Luna's bedroom was suffocating. The warm, playful energy that usually filled the 13th Unit's estate was completely gone, replaced by a heavy, dreadful silence that pressed down on everyone's shoulders.

Luna lay on her bed, her breathing shallow and ragged. The wet towels on her forehead had already dried up from the intense heat. Ira replaced them silently, her movements precise and mechanical, but even she could not hide the slight tremble in her fingers.

Sayma sat on the edge of her own bed across the room, surrounded by massive stacks of heavy medical encyclopedias. Her eyes were red and strained as she flipped through page after page, searching desperately for any mention of Blue Decay.

"Nothing," Sayma whispered, closing yet another book with a frustrated thud. "Absolutely nothing. Every medical text says the same thing. Blue Decay is classified as an extinct disease. There has not been a documented case in over three hundred years."

"Then how does Luna have it?" Laxmi asked, pacing back and forth near the window. Her footfalls were heavy and restless. "How can she be sick with something that does not exist anymore?"

"It is dormant," Sayma explained, pushing her glasses up with shaking fingers. "The disease can sleep inside a person's body for years without showing any symptoms. Something must have triggered it. Something caused it to wake up."

Naomi sat on the floor beside Luna's bed, holding her friend's burning hand in both of hers. She did not say anything. She just held on, her jaw tight, her green eyes fixed on Luna's pale, sweating face.

Princess Iris stood near the window, her arms crossed over her chest, her violet eyes distant and troubled. She was thinking hard, her mind racing through every possible option, every contact, every resource she had.

And in the far corner of the room, sitting on a small wooden chair with his feet propped up on a stack of books, Ken Eliot was reading.

Not a medical journal. Not an ancient encyclopedia. Not a diagnostic report. Ken was reading a small, dusty, highly colorful fantasy novel with a painted cover showing a magical forest full of glowing trees and a sparkling waterfall.

He turned a page lazily, his half-closed eyes scanning the colorful illustrations. A small, absentminded smile played on his lips, as if he were reading a bedtime story on a lazy Sunday afternoon instead of sitting in a room where his friend was dying.

Naomi glanced over at him. Her eye twitched. She looked away. Then she looked back again, as if she could not quite believe what she was seeing.

"Ken," Naomi said, her voice strained but controlled. She was trying very hard to be patient. "What are you doing?"

"Reading," Ken answered without looking up. He turned another page.

"I can see that," Naomi said through gritted teeth. "Why are you reading a children's storybook while Luna is dying in that bed?"

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