Chapter 7: Who Exactly Doesn't Care If the Soldiers Live or Die?

Words : 1753 Updated : Oct 11th, 2025

"I won't deny your skill, but nearly two thousand men are down. Do you really think you alone can save them all?" She carried a striking, forceful presence. Her tone was firm and sure. "What you're doing is nothing but a waste of manpower and supplies. Worse, you're burning through the time that could save these soldiers' lives." Faces around them tightened with embarrassment. Some looked as if they wanted to interject, but her commanding manner stopped them cold. Even Jordan, the instructor who'd been backing Jason Yare's work, looked strained. He kept his voice mild. "Angel, Mr. Yare was sent by the old commander to treat the men. We should put our trust in him, shouldn't we?" "Trust?" Angel Zorn tilted her head toward Jordan, then jabbed a finger at Jason. "You really believe a wall of ice and some Dragonbane Powder will fix this? I studied medicine for years and I've never seen such nonsense." She drew a slow breath, tamping down her temper. "Instructor, as a doctor, I'm formally asking you to stop his unreasonable demands at once. Evacuate the healthy soldiers and carry out full decontamination across the camp." "We need to wait for backup from HQ and have a more experienced medical team take the lead, not buy the snake oil this quack is selling about sprinkling Dragonbane Powder." "What if," she swept a hand toward the square, "men die because of this? Who takes the fall? Not even the old commander could shoulder that." "I will." Jason had kept quiet for a long time. He stepped forward and met her eyes, then pointed straight at the square. "I don't deny your training, but this situation can't be handled by conventional medicine." "They've been hit by a hex. My method suppresses the hex's activity. Otherwise these soldiers will never make it through the night." At that, bafflement flickered across most faces. The idea of a "hex" was clearly outside their experience. Only Jordan's expression grew grave. Angel merely froze for half a second. Then she seized Jason by the collar and snapped, "You're a quack! You think this is a movie set?" "What gives you the right to 'take responsibility'? Do you even have a medical license? Have you had modern medical training?" She shoved him away, yanked off her mask, and let a cutting smile spread over her face. "Why not say they're possessed? We can call a village medium to burn talismans and make them drink the ash water. That'll fix them right up, yes?" The flurry of words jammed in Jason's throat. He had been following the methods from King Balam's Legacy to counter the Viper Hex. He could not cite a case study, and his own name carried no weight; he had only inherited the Legacy today. The one man who could vouch for him, Ian Juggins, wasn't here. And the soldiers could not wait. Angel beckoned two soldiers with a sharp motion. "Get this quack out of the camp." At her order, the two men strode up and clamped Jason by the arms, ready to drag him off. Jason panicked. "Who exactly doesn't care if these soldiers live or die? You're a doctor; you can see how bad this is. What gives you the right to shut me down?" Angel's mouth curved in a cold smile. "I'm the youngest person to earn a doctorate at Harvard Medical School. I know medicine, unlike you-a back‑alley quack." She jerked her chin, impatient. "Get him out of here." Just then- A car horn honked. A red BMW tore in from outside the wire and slewed to a halt in front of Jason, tires biting the dirt. The door swung open, and Marlee Juggins stepped out, her delicate features set in a severe line. Off to one side, Jordan quietly let out a breath and slipped his phone into his pocket. "Let him go." She came to Jason's side. At her voice alone, the soldiers released him. Angel's temper flared again. "Marlee Juggins, don't think you can throw your weight around in this camp just because the old commander is your grandfather. You hold no military rank." Marlee cut her a sidelong glance, then turned to Jason with a brief, apologetic smile. "Sorry I'm late. You've been put through the wringer." "Marlee Juggins!" Angel raised a hand, ready to strike. Jordan moved fast, planting himself between them. "Angel, use your words. No fighting." Jason shook his head, urgency roughening his voice. "I don't care about me. The soldiers can't wait." "Don't worry," Marlee said, steady as a rock. "I'm here to solve this." She pivoted toward Angel, took out her phone, and tapped the screen. A chime sounded. Marlee held up the phone. Ian Juggins filled the screen, his face stern and commanding. "Jordan!" Ian barked. "Comply unconditionally with every treatment request from the young expert. If there's a problem, you overcome it. If anyone gets in the way, they're dealt with under military law. If you fail the mission, I'll shoot you myself." "Yes, sir! You can count on me." Jordan snapped a salute and hurried off to get things moving. Ian let out a breath, then looked toward Angel. "Angel," he said, softer now, "your granddad sent you to me to learn, not to cause trouble. Do you understand?" Angel drew back her anger, her face falling into aggrieved lines. "But this quack-" "Shut up." Ian's shout cracked like a whip. He thumped the covers in anger. "Watch your mouth." "If you had the skills, would the square still be full of men lying there?" "I'm suspending you from all camp duties, effective immediately." He cut the video feed. Marlee pocketed the phone and said in an even tone, "Angel, Granddad wants you at the house. Right away." Angel's face darkened. She stamped her foot in frustration and walked out of the camp without another word. The others drifted off to their posts, the hum of work resuming around the square. Marlee quietly let out a long breath and gave Jason a small smile. "Don't worry. Everything will be done your way." But Jason didn't look relieved. The worry was still written all over his face. "My approach can only get them through tonight. After that, you'll have to do something even more complicated." "Tell me," Marlee said, pulling a notebook from the car and flipping it open. "I'll write it down and have people on it right away." "First, I need as many Touchblight Bloom stems as possible to press for juice. Enough for every soldier to have a bowl." "In addition, there has to be chicken blood-a basin for each soldier. And Dragonbane Brew as well." Marlee cut in. "A bowl for each man, and the older the vintage, the better, right?" Jason nodded. "That's all." Whew. Marlee closed the notebook, her tone eased. "Honestly, if I hadn't seen your work with my own eyes, I'd think you were a fraud too."

Chapter 7: Who Exactly Doesn't Care If the Soldiers Live or Die?

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