Chapter 10 A Glimmer Of Hope

• Franklin's gaze shifted toward Delia.
• He had taken Charles' medicine. It would have been utterly unconscionable not to attempt to treat the ailing man.
• “You? You must be joking. Which medical school did you graduate from? As the attending doctor, even I was powerless. What could you possibly do?” James looked at Franklin, his face contorting into an expression of intense disdain.
• “It must be another one of those traditional medicine practitioners, thinking they can cure diseases by sticking a few silver needles in people and making them drink bitter concoctions. My God, God should strike down all you charlatans of traditional medicine.”
• “Traditional medicine is nothing more than pseudoscience. Without advanced medical equipment, it's impossible to treat anyone. You better get out of my treatment room immediately,” James continued, his voice dripping with contempt.
• He felt personally affronted by the Weatherby family for even entertaining such archaic methods.
• Traditional medicine and modern medicine often clashed, regarded by many as diametrically opposed—like water and fire, never meant to mix.
• Franklin's expression turned icy. “Traditional medicine has a history of over five thousand years, while modern medicine has only been around for a few hundred. Are you even qualified to make comparisons?” he retorted sharply.
• Delia, desperate and not caring for the ongoing debate, pleaded urgently with Franklin, “Mr. Callier, please save my grandpa!”
• Her plea was born not out of faith but from clutching at any glimmer of hope.
• James quickly interjected, “Ms. Weatherby, it's time to prepare for the aftermath. Let's ensure Old Mr. Weatherby's departure is dignified and peaceful.”
• Delia's mind was a whirlwind of confusion, the situation spiraling beyond her grasp.
• Clusians are such ignorant fools! James inwardly fumed.
• He had been Charles' attending doctor, conducting five major consultations. Although the exact nature of Charles' illness eluded him, he had observed a rapid deterioration across various organs, deducing it to be a rare and complex condition likely beyond cure by any means available nationally or globally.
• Charles, it seemed, was destined for death.
• Yet here was Franklin, audaciously claiming there was still hope. This was ludicrous to James.
• And even more infuriating was Delia siding with this ostentatious pretender of a doctor, pushing James to the edge of exasperation.
• “Geez, Old Mr. Weatherby was wise all his life, and now his granddaughter trusts the words of a quack. It's absolutely preposterous,” he lamented, his frustration palpable.
• “Everyone, leave!” Franklin's voice cut through the tension, his tone firm. He knew if action wasn't taken swiftly, it might truly become too late.
• His command snapped Delia back to reality. Regardless of whether Franklin was a true miracle worker or a sham, she had to grasp at this final strand of hope.
• She quickly directed all the other doctors to leave the room, leaving only herself, Franklin, and her grandfather, who lay on the sickbed.
• “Where's the remaining Regeneration Herb from yesterday?” Franklin asked, turning to Delia.
• Initially startled, she quickly handed over the last stalk of Regeneration Herb she had.
• “This is a catalyst; it must be combined with gold needles!” Franklin explained as he fed Charles the medicine. He then produced a box of golden needles and began their precise administration.
• Meanwhile, James, who had been relegated to the Weatherby residence's main hall, sat brooding. “That traditional medicine quack is certainly lying. Unless it's God himself, no one could save Old Mr. Weatherby,” he scoffed.
• Turning earnestly to the Weatherbys, he implored, “As his relatives, you should cease disturbing Old Mr. Weatherby's peace. Let him depart with dignity. Respect for the deceased is paramount!”
• But just as he finished speaking, the other doctors gasped in astonishment. “Listen, the medical equipment is alerting. Does this mean Old Mr. Weatherby's vital signs have returned to normal? How is that even possible?”
• The doctors exchanged bewildered glances.
• Next, Delia emerged from the room, appearing almost trance-like, and announced to everyone, “Come in, my grandpa is out of danger now.”
• Overjoyed, tears streamed down the faces of the Weatherbys as they hurried into the room.
• When they observed the electrocardiogram monitor displaying Charles' stabilizing vital signs and his gradually rising blood pressure, a collective sigh of relief filled the room. The patriarch of the Weatherby family was not yet destined to depart.
• All eyes then turned to Franklin, who stood calmly by the window, his hands clasped behind his back. Their looks were filled with immense gratitude.
• Only James remained skeptical, meticulously examining each instrument before addressing the group in a serious tone, “Do you understand that in Clusia, there's a term called 'terminal lucidity'? It appears quite probable that Old Mr. Weatherby is experiencing exactly this phenomenon right now. I'm genuinely concerned he may not survive beyond the next few minutes. I strongly advise that you hasten to settle his personal matters.”
• “Dr. James is right,” others concurred, “Old Mr. Weatherby's bodily systems had ceased functioning effectively. No amount of potent cardiotonics could have brought him back. Please, take this moment to grieve.”
• The consensus among the other attending physicians was unanimous; they all nodded in agreement, further solidifying the assertion.
• This explanation seemed to be the only plausible reason behind Charles's sudden return to normalcy—an occurrence not unheard of in medical science.
• Upon processing these explanations, a shadow fell over the faces of the assembled family members, with even Delia enveloped by a cloud of concern. She couldn't help but wonder, was it truly just terminal lucidity, rather than an actual recovery facilitated by Franklin?
• Suddenly breaking the somber atmosphere, Charles' voice rang out, “Water, get me a glass of water!”
• Following his request, Charles, who had been confined to his sickbed, surprisingly sat up as if rejuvenated. He reached for the water cup placed on a nearby table, took a substantial gulp, and then confidently stepped out of the bed.
• Approaching the window, Charles turned to face Franklin with a grave look. “I was teetering on the brink of death, and it's entirely due to your intervention, Mr. Callier, that I've returned. You have my deepest gratitude, and should you ever require anything, know that you can rely on my support.”
• During the entire ordeal, Charles had been immobilized, unable to speak or move, yet he remained acutely aware of his surroundings and Franklin's efforts.
• “No need for that. It was nothing more than a straightforward transaction,” Franklin responded, shaking his head indifferently.
• For Franklin, the holdings and status of the Weatherby family paled in comparison to what he valued in Empyrean.
• Charles didn't elaborate further, but he had deeply internalized this act of benevolence.
• However, after a brief discussion with Delia, Charles suddenly addressed James, “I've been informed that you obstructed Mr. Callier's attempts to treat me and even began preparations for what you presumed was my inevitable demise. Did you actually desire to see me dead?”
• “N-No... it's just your illness...” James stuttered, still convinced of his medical assessment, “Old Mr. Weatherby, this must simply be the calm before the storm. If we perform a thorough medical examination, I'm certain we will uncover the underlying issues. Someone, please proceed with a full body check-up for Old Mr. Weatherby.”
• “Grandpa, perhaps it would be wise to undergo a comprehensive check-up,” Delia proposed, her voice laced with anxiety.
• “Sure,” Charles agreed after a brief hesitation.
• Thirty minutes later, the extensive examination concluded, revealing that Charles' body was devoid of any medical complications. His previous conditions had miraculously disappeared, leaving him in robust health.
• “H-How is this possible? This... must be just a temporary improvement...” James stammered, his face a mask of disbelief, as he continued to mutter to himself.
• “Get out of here, you quack!” Charles' tone was icy as he delivered a swift kick that sent James sprawling to the floor.
• Previously, Charles had held the foreign doctor in high regard. But now, his proclamations seemed as insignificant as mere hot air. Feeling robust and healthy, Charles dismissed the idea that his recovery could be just a brief resurgence before an inevitable decline.
• By the time Charles felt compelled to express his gratitude to Franklin, he realized that Franklin had discreetly departed at some unknown point. He considered reaching out to him, only to remember that he didn't possess Franklin's contact number.
• “Delia, mobilize all the resources at the Weatherby family's disposal to locate him! We need to find this Dr. Callier; he saved my life. It is our duty as the Weatherby family to reciprocate this kindness,” Charles instructed firmly.
• “Yes, Grandpa!” Delia responded, nodding vigorously, her eyes sparkling with a mix of admiration and curiosity.
• While en route, Franklin received a call from Desmond. “Mr. Callier, the preparations for the succession ceremony have been arranged. Invitations are being dispatched gradually. Should we also extend invitations to some international entities and organizations?”
• “Let's keep it low-key. Just keep it within the bounds of Jacaster,” Franklin casually suggested after pondering briefly.
• The array of powers and groups within Empyrean was vast. If invitations were extended to all, Jacaster might not have the capacity to accommodate everyone.
• “But what about Seraphs of Epea, Providence Order of Aploth, Apocalypse Society of Adrune, and Horizon? If they don't receive an invitation, won't they perceive it as a slight?” Desmond inquired.
• “What difference does it make whether they feel slighted or not? Has Empyrean ever truly regarded their feelings? The decision is final; the event will be confined to Jacaster,” Franklin declared nonchalantly.
• “Do you have any further instructions, Mr. Callier?”
• “Ensure a few extra invitations are sent to Winona,” Franklin instructed. “At the grand ceremony, I aim not only to assume the leadership of Empyrean but also to celebrate a grand wedding with Winona. I want it to be known that Winona is to be wife of Lord Empyrean.”
• “Congratulations, Mr. Callier!” Desmond exclaimed, elated. “I'll arrange for someone to invite Mrs. Callier to select her bridal gown.”
• “No, let's not inform Winona just yet; I intend to surprise her,” Franklin stated before ending the call.
• Six years ago, she had saved me single-handedly, enduring injuries that scarred her appearance. Six years later, her bridal gown is now prepared, adorning hundreds of miles of fabric, ready for the momentous day.