At that moment, Nathaniel stepped forward, his tone calm but unwavering.
"Dr. Alden, you can see she's the only one who's made any progress. Grandfather's condition was deteriorating—until Megan stepped in."
Immediately Dr. Alden let out a sharp scoff, his gaze dismissive.
"Utter nonsense. with all due respect, Traditional medicine like this? It's unreliable. What she's doing is reckless at best, and dangerous at worst. I won't allow my patient to be subjected to these unproven rituals that is called treatment."
Despite the rising tension, Megan's expression remained composed, but her voice carried an unmistakable warning.
"Remove those herbal catalysts now, and he'll go into immediate shock. His body is still adjusting to the purge."
Immediately Dr. Alden turned sharply to Nathaniel's father, deliberately ignoring her words.
"So tell me—do you place your trust in an amateur who is using a traditional method… or in the years of proven expertise I bring to this room? If we allow her to continue, we may never stabilize him again."
A heavy silence followed. Nathaniel's father stood frozen, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, without being told she knows what Dr Alden just said is true.
Around him, other family members murmured quietly, their faces still clouded with doubt about Megan
"Pull everything out," Nathaniel's father finally ordered, his voice low.
hearing what his father just said Nathaniel's eyes widened in alarm. "No! Don't—"
But the command had already been acted on.
Before anyone could stop him, Dr. Alden stepped forward. With swift, clinical movements, he began removing the herbal layers Megan had carefully placed across the old man's chest and limbs. One by one, each was peeled away—despite Megan's clear warning.
And then it happened.
The moment the final piece was taken off, the heart monitor emitted a piercing, erratic beep.
The old man's body jerked. His complexion drained of color in an instant, and his chest heaved violently before his breathing became shallow, chaotic—barely there.
Immediately The room spiraled into panic.
"What's happening?!" someone shouted from the back.
Then Dr. Alden's face contorted in shock. He rushed to the bedside, pressing trembling fingers against the old man's wrist. He snatched his stethoscope from his coat pocket, but the way his hands shook betrayed the truth.
"His vitals are crashing—he's going into cardiac arrest!"
At that moment Chaos broke loose. Nurses scrambled to assist, doctors barked orders, and panic filled the air like smoke.
Nathaniel's grandfather lay still, his chest barely rising. His skin had gone ashen, his lips bluish.
Nathaniel spun toward Dr. Alden, his voice shaking with fury. "What have you done?! You swore you could handle it—and now look at him!"
Dr. Alden looked pale, beads of sweat trailing down his temple. But instead of admitting fault, he turned to Megan with venom in his voice.
"This is because of her reckless procedures! That concoction of hers must have disrupted his blood flow—she made things worse—"
"Enough!" Nathaniel snapped, stepping between them, eyes blazing with anger. "You're the one who pulled everything out! She warned you not to. You ignored her—and now my grandfather is dying because of your arrogance!"
Dr. Alden opened his mouth as if to defend himself, but the words never came. The weight of his failure was written all over his face.
Nathaniel turned to Megan, his voice desperate, breaking.
"Please… Miss Megan… save him."
But Megan didn't respond right away. She looked at the man lying on the bed—his body once on the path to healing, now slipping toward death. Her jaw tightened, and for a long moment, she said nothing.
Then she exhaled, voice steady but grave.
"We don't have much time. I need specific insects—ones that can serve as medicinal catalysts. Ones that bind to and extract the dark toxin buried deep inside, I need a worm anyone you can get your hands on."
"Many Insects?" a nearby doctor echoed in disbelief.
Megan's tone didn't waver.
"They must be dried, crushed into powder, and mixed with a catalyst—then ingested. It's the only way to draw out the curse that's killing him."
The tension in the room thickened like storm clouds gathering.
And then Dr. Alden scoffed again, folding his arms, his face twisted in disdain.
"Now this is absurd," he sneered. "Insects? Powder? Are we doing medicine or witchcraft?"
His disciples snickered behind him, unable to hide their amusement.
One of the younger ones stepped forward, lips curled into a mocking grin.
"So you want us to believe, by doing that the poison living inside his body would then disappear."
At that moment Laughter erupted from the students. Even some of the skeptical family members chuckled nervously.
But Megan said nothing, she moved.
Her hands worked with silent precision—measured, confident. She applied a second catalyst at key pressure points, a shimmering blend of herbs and minerals. Then, with practiced ease, she applied a fine line of the powdered fire beetle mixture across the man's abdomen, sealing it in with a layer of heat-treated wax infused with silver root.
At that moment the laughter began to fade, the air shifted.
A pressure settled across the room—one that couldn't be explained. Even Dr. Alden's expression began to tighten. Something was happening.
And then—it did, Nathaniel's grandfather convulsed sharply.
His skin near the catalyst writhed unnaturally. Beneath it, something moved.
Then, he vomited a very black blood with some tiny life worm inside.
At that moment a collective gasp filled the room.
Silence followed, Everyone stared, unmoving, watching the frail man lying there.
Seconds passed like hours, And then—his chest rose.
Once, Twice, Steady.
His complexion warmed. The tightness in his face relaxed.
Then—his eyes fluttered open.
At that moment gasps erupted around the room. Faces that had been skeptical now stared in open shock.
The man who had been teetering on the edge of death now breathed with calm rhythm. Alive. Alert.
Nathaniel stumbled forward, his voice trembling.
"Grandfather…?"
The old man blinked, slowly turned his head, and locked eyes with his grandson.
A faint, tired smile formed on his lips.