Chapter 860 - 870 - Illness

Chapter 860: Chapter 870 - Illness

The room remained quiet for several moments after Lucien’s realization.

He had known the future versions of these people long enough to accept their abilities as part of who they were.

Now those powers felt different.

They had roots.

Roger shifted against the pillows.

"You never answered."

Lucien looked toward him.

"My question?"

Roger smiled.

"Everyone else told you what they wanted most."

The others turned toward Lucien.

Seran leaned back with obvious interest.

Lucien thought about the question.

There had been a time when his answer might have involved power.

Another time, perhaps freedom.

Now the answer came easily.

"I want enough power to protect the people important to me."

The teasing disappeared from Seran’s expression.

Tavian nodded slowly.

Auren smiled.

Mirelle looked toward the window for a moment.

Aurelia’s expression softened.

Seran eventually shrugged.

"That one is unfair."

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because now ours sound selfish."

"They aren’t."

Roger smiled.

"Then I want that too."

Aurelia nodded.

"So do I."

The others began agreeing.

Lucien shook his head.

"Keep your own wishes."

They looked toward him.

Lucien studied them one by one.

"You do not need to replace them with mine."

His gaze rested briefly on Tavian before moving to Mirelle, Auren, Seran, Aurelia, and Roger.

"Your wishes are good enough."

Something in his voice made the room settle.

Lucien continued.

"Someday, you might even get exactly what you asked for."

Seran stared at him.

"You say strange things with far too much confidence."

Lucien smiled.

"You’ll get used to it."

"I am already worried that I have."

Roger laughed quietly.

Then his expression changed.

The happiness that had filled his face during the conversation slowly faded.

"Perhaps they will."

Lucien looked toward him.

Roger glanced at his own thin hands.

"For me, it might have to wait until another life."

The words were spoken lightly, yet nobody in the room mistook the feeling behind them.

Roger looked toward the window.

"I have already lived longer than several doctors expected."

Seran’s smile disappeared.

Roger continued before anyone could comfort him.

"My family stopped telling me how worried they are years ago. They think I do not notice."

He gave a small smile.

"I notice."

Lucien studied him.

"Tell me about your illness."

Roger looked back.

Seran glanced between them.

Lucien continued.

"When did it start? What symptoms do you have? What treatments have been tried?"

Roger seemed puzzled by the seriousness of the questions.

Still, he answered.

He had always been weaker than other children, though his condition had become significantly worse during adolescence. At first, his legs began aching after short walks. Then the pain reached his back and hips. He tired quickly, and even minor exertion left him breathless.

Doctors prescribed rest.

The rest became months.

Then years.

The less Roger moved, the weaker he became.

His appetite fluctuated.

His muscles wasted.

His bones ached deeply during colder months, and several times he had suffered injuries from falls that should never have hurt him so badly.

Lucien’s attention sharpened when Roger mentioned that.

"Fractures?"

"Twice."

"From serious falls?"

Roger shook his head.

"The first time, I slipped beside the bed."

Tavian frowned.

Lucien kept asking questions.

Roger rarely went outside now.

Sunlight made his eyes ache after spending so long indoors.

His diet had also become increasingly restricted because different physicians had forbidden different foods over the years. One believed meat caused inflammation. Another thought eggs made his condition worse. Another restricted oily fish after Roger became nauseated during a fever.

Eventually, his meals had become mostly refined grains, soft vegetables, thin soups, fruit, and whatever bland food the physicians considered safe.

Lucien almost groaned.

He asked about bleeding.

Roger mentioned occasional bleeding from the gums years earlier, though that had improved.

He asked about numbness.

Sometimes in the feet.

He asked about dizziness.

Often.

He asked whether Roger’s heart raced after standing.

Almost always.

Lucien gradually stopped asking questions.

The pattern was becoming familiar, but he still wanted confirmation.

He turned his attention inward and consulted the System.

Lucien did not ask for a miracle.

He asked for a diagnosis based on Roger’s symptoms, his living conditions, his long-term diet, and the materials available in this era.

The answer came quickly.

Lucien read through it once.

Then again.

His expression became increasingly strange.

Seran noticed.

"What?"

Lucien looked at Roger.

The young noble had spent years waiting to die because generation after generation of physicians had unknowingly helped maintain the condition they were trying to treat.

The System identified severe nutritional osteomalacia caused by prolonged deficiencies in vitamin D, calcium, phosphorus, and several other nutrients.

Roger also showed signs of significant iron-deficiency anemia and extreme physical deconditioning.

His bones had weakened because his body could no longer mineralize them properly.

His blood carried too little iron to support normal exertion.

Years inside this room had made both problems worse.

None of it required magic.

None of it required medicine beyond the reach of this era.

Lucien almost laughed from disbelief.

Roger mistook his expression.

"Is it that bad?"

Lucien looked toward him.

"No."

Everyone turned.

Lucien’s smile grew.

"It is actually much better than I expected."

Seran stood.

"What does that mean?"

Lucien ignored him and continued questioning Roger about previous medicines.

Some had contained strong purgatives.

Lucien’s expression became worse.

Others had included mineral preparations that likely irritated Roger’s stomach.

Several physicians had also bled him when his face became flushed during fevers.

That explained part of the anemia.

Lucien rubbed his forehead.

The doctors had not been fools.

They simply lacked the knowledge required to connect sunlight, diet, blood production, and bone health.

From their perspective, Roger suffered from an obscure wasting illness.

From Lucien’s perspective, the path was remarkably clear.

He needed proper nutrition.

He needed sunlight introduced gradually.

He needed minerals his body could absorb.

He needed iron.

He needed enough protein to rebuild muscle.

He needed to stop taking treatments that depleted him further.

Then he needed months of careful rehabilitation so weakened bones would not fracture while his strength returned.

Lucien asked the System for the best program possible using ingredients available in the capital.

The answer refined itself around local foods and herbs.

There was even a traditional liver-based restorative broth that became far more useful when combined with specific mineral-rich ingredients and sun-dried mushrooms.

The physicians of this era used the components separately for different complaints. Nobody had reason to combine them for Roger’s condition.

Lucien could.

The System also recommended a mild herbal preparation to improve appetite and digestion, followed by carefully controlled exercise once the bone pain began easing.

Acupuncture could help with pain and muscle activation during rehabilitation.

It would not cure the underlying problem.

Food, sunlight, minerals, and time would.

Lucien smiled.

Roger stared at him.

"Why are you smiling?"

Lucien leaned back.

"Because I think I can cure you."

Nobody moved.

Roger looked at him as though he had misunderstood the words.

Seran’s eyes widened.

Aurelia stared.

Mirelle slowly lowered the object she had been examining on a nearby table.

Tavian stopped studying the construction of the bed frame.

Roger eventually looked down.

"Many doctors have said something similar."

Lucien heard no bitterness in his voice.

That somehow made it worse.

Roger had simply stopped expecting anything.

"My family brought physicians from other territories. One came from the royal court. Another stayed here for nearly half a year."

He gave a small smile.

"None helped."

Lucien looked at Deadman’s face and felt an unfamiliar discomfort.

The future man he knew always seemed thoroughly exhausted by existence itself.

This boy had barely been given the opportunity to begin living.

"As long as you agree," Lucien said, "I will personally make sure you recover."

Roger looked back at him.

"Why?"

The question was reasonable.

They had met minutes ago.

Lucien thought about the resonance.

He thought about the future.

He thought about a man called Deadman who had somehow wished, in another age, for the ability to experience more lives than one person should ever possess.

"Because I want to."

Roger continued staring.

Seran finally recovered.

He moved closer to the bed.

"You should accept."

Roger looked at him.

Seran pointed toward Lucien.

"I understand why you don’t believe him. He says ridiculous things constantly."

Lucien narrowed his eyes.

Seran continued before he could interrupt.

"He also has an irritating habit of making those ridiculous things work."

Aurelia nodded.

That surprised Roger more than Seran’s words.

Seran smiled.

"You may question my judgment, but Aurelia’s is better."

Lucien almost objected to being recommended in such a questionable manner.

But it was working.

Roger looked toward Aurelia.

She smiled gently.

"I think you should let him try."

Roger remained silent for a long time.

Outside, leaves brushed softly against the open window.

Lucien waited.

Eventually, Roger exhaled.

"What would I have to do?"

Lucien’s smile returned.

"First, stop letting doctors remove your blood."

Roger blinked.

Seran stared.

Lucien continued.

"Then we change almost everything you eat, get you outside regularly, and rebuild your strength slowly enough that you do not break anything."

Roger looked increasingly confused.

"You think food and sunlight can cure me?"

"Yes."

The simplicity of the answer made him look even less convinced.

Lucien understood.

After years of expensive medicines, rare physicians, painful treatments, and solemn diagnoses, being told to eat differently and sit in the sun sounded absurd.

Fortunately, Lucien did not need Roger to understand everything yet.

He only needed cooperation.

"The treatment will take time," Lucien said. "You did not become this weak in a few days. Your body will need months to recover properly."

Roger studied him.

"And you believe I can recover completely?"

Lucien nodded.

"If you follow the treatment and there are no complications, yes."

For the first time since they entered the room, Roger’s expression became impossible to read.

Hope frightened him more than despair did.

Lucien recognized that immediately.

Roger had already learned how to live with the expectation of dying.

Giving that expectation up required trusting someone he had only just met.

Seran sat beside the bed.

"Try."

Roger looked toward him.

"If it fails, you can blame me for bringing him."

Lucien glanced over.

"Why are you volunteering me and yourself?"

Seran ignored him.

Roger eventually laughed.

It was quiet and weak, but genuine.

"All right."

Lucien nodded.

Then he consulted the System one final time and mentally reviewed the ingredients required for the first stage.

His satisfaction lasted only a few seconds.

The capital had everything they needed.

That was the good news.

The problem was the quality required.

Fresh liver from specific animals, concentrated bone stock, several medicinal herbs, high-quality dried mushrooms, mineral salts, sesame paste, eggs, certain fish, and enough varied food to maintain the treatment for months would not be cheap in the noble district.

Lucien calculated what he and the others currently carried.

His smile faded.

Seran noticed immediately.

"What now?"

Lucien looked around the room.

"There is one problem."

Roger seemed unsurprised.

"What is it?"

Lucien sighed.

"We do not have enough money to buy everything."

The room went silent.

Then everyone slowly looked toward Roger.

Roger stared back.

Lucien followed their gazes.

Only then did he remember where they were sitting.

Inside the private bedroom of a Duke’s son.

Seran covered his face with one hand.

Lucien suddenly felt that perhaps his ancient mortal instincts had become a little too accustomed to being poor.