Chapter 19

The brawny man turned and left without a word. After a moment's hesitation, Nash followed. A Cullinan, the same one he'd seen before when shopping with Hera, was parked beside the manor. The brawny man opened the car door, and Nash entered without hesitation. Inside, an old man and a middle-aged man sat waiting.

The old man's aura was calm yet regal, his eyes radiating both majesty and kindness. The middle-aged man, bearded and imposing, exuded a tempered, battle-hardened aura.

The old man placed a hand on his heart and smiled. "I'm Zakariah Sinclair. Hello, young Nash Calcraft."

The middle-aged man, Stellar Orwell, offered a curt greeting.

"Did you seek me out for something?" Nash asked, his tone indifferent, his gaze fixed on the window. He'd suspected these men had been targeting Hera; unexpectedly, they were after him. He disliked being followed, but sensed no malice; otherwise, he wouldn't have complied.

Seeing Nash's indifference, Zakariah laughed. "Don't blame Stellar. We simply require your assistance in curing an ailment."

"Is this your method of invitation?" Nash asked coldly.

Zakariah felt a chill, as if plunged into an ice cave. His expression shifted, and he immediately circulated his inner energy to counter Nash's pressure. Within three seconds, however, his energy dissipated. His face pale, he stared at Nash in disbelief. His martial arts mastery had been so easily crushed by this young man? He'd thought Skadi's assessment of Nash's strength yesterday was an exaggeration. Now, he realized she had understated it.

Zakariah again placed a hand to his heart. "Mr. Calcraft, he's unique. You're the only one who can cure him…"

Nash reined in his aura and glanced at the rearview mirror, catching Stellar's gaze. Stellar looked away, rumbling, "The patient is the warden of the Northern Territory…"

Nash's eyes narrowed. A warden, a territorial governor—his power must be immense. There were only four wardens in Drakonia.

After a moment's silence, Nash asked slowly, "What ails him?"

"A poison causing deossification!"

"A parasitic poison?" Astonishment filled Nash's eyes. He'd treated countless ailments across the country, but never a parasitic poison. This one, capable of causing deossification, was exceptionally potent. Once afflicted, the victim's bones and joints would weaken within a month, decaying rapidly. In three months, the bones would crumble to ash—a slow, agonizing death. The warden, commander of thousands, would be brutally murdered in this manner, likely by a trusted aide.

"It's been twenty-five days!" Stellar said, worry etched on his face. He turned to Nash. "Can he be cured?"

"I'm not sure, but I can try…"

"I won't risk the warden's life if you lack confidence," Stellar added coldly. "The Northern Territory is under his protection. If he perishes during treatment, the border will descend into chaos!"

Nash shrugged. "Then hire someone else."