The brawny man said nothing, simply turning and leaving. After a moment's hesitation, Nash followed.

A Cullinan, the same one he'd seen earlier while shopping with Hera, was parked by the manor. The brawny man opened the car door, and Nash, understanding, entered without hesitation. Two men were inside: an old man and a middle-aged one.

The older man's aura was restrained yet calm, his eyes conveying majesty and kindness. The middle-aged man, bearded, exuded a chilling aura, tempered by years on the battlefield.

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, gaze fixed on the window. He'd suspected these men had been targeting Hera; unexpectedly, they were after him. He disliked being followed, yet sensed no malice. Otherwise, he wouldn't have complied.

Seeing Nash's indifference, Zakariah chuckled. "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; he immediately circulated his inner energy to resist Nash's pressure. However, within seconds, his energy dissipated. Zakariah stared, pale-faced and disbelieving. His martial arts mastery crushed so easily by this young man? He'd thought Skadi's assessment of Nash's strength an exaggeration. Now, he realized she'd understated it.

Again placing his hand on his heart, Zakariah said, "Mr. Calcraft, he's unique. You're the only one who can cure him…"

Nash withdrew his aura, glancing at the rearview mirror to find Stellar watching him. Stellar looked away, his deep voice rumbling, "The person you'll be healing 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 pause, Nash asked slowly, "What ails him?"

"A poison causing deossification!"

"A parasitic poison?" Astonishment filled Nash's eyes. He'd treated countless ailments, but never a parasitic poison. This one, causing deossification, was exceptionally potent. Within a month, the victim's bones and joints would loosen and decay; in three months, they'd turn to ash. It was a living death. The warden, commander of thousands, would be brutally murdered—likely by a trusted aide.

"It's been twenty-five days!" Stellar said worriedly, turning to Nash. "Can he be cured?"

"I'm not sure, but I can try…"

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

Nash shrugged. "Then hire someone else."