The Doctor Cured The Villainess And Ran Away-Chapter 22: Final Selection (2)

The final selection exam to determine Asella’s personal physician—

Had run into serious trouble.

“Ha.”

I let out a sigh the moment I saw the so-called "test subject": an Emerald Dragon hatchling.

Dragons were magical beasts, deeply attuned to spells and magic.

Even the flames that spewed from a Flame Dragon could be classified as a kind of magic.

They preferred mana-rich food, so every year, there were always at least five mages who got eaten while carelessly wandering near a dragon’s nest.

Emerald Dragons, in particular, had a trait of eating healing spells.

Even if this one was just a hatchling, the fact that they somehow obtained a member of the dragon race... Honestly, only the imperial family could pull something like that off.

“This really isn’t something I’m happy about.”

This bastard wasn’t sick—he just wanted to greedily devour healing spells like a starving pig.

Ravenously, endlessly!

The problem was, I had a prior conversation with Gis before the exam.

‘Of course the young master will be using only medicine for this exam, yes? After all, someone of your caliber wouldn’t need to stoop to our level!’

He provoked me like that, and I confidently responded.

‘Haha, of course. I’ll pass using medicine alone.’

Having made such a declaration, it’d be incredibly humiliating to use healing spells now.

Behind the blind, the royal physician from the imperial household must be evaluating me.

I couldn’t give up here—but damn it, what was I supposed to do?

“Hey.”

I called out to the hatchling, and it gave me a disinterested glance before letting out a loud belch.

Looks like it had already digested the healing spells it mooched off the previous candidates. The stench was godawful.

“Whatever. Maybe you'll like this.”

I offered the hatchling one of my rose candies.

Sniff sniff—its long-slit nostrils twitched as it took in the scent, and then WHAP!

It sharply extended its claws and swatted the candy away.

Unbelievable.

Do you have any idea how precious that candy is?

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. Just try it. Hey, try it, try it—okay?”

I grabbed the hatchling by the neck, forced its mouth open, and stuck the candy onto its tongue.

—Screeeee! KREEEEE!

Now it was shrieking like mad. Hopefully that meant it just didn’t like it... right?

Wasn’t this how dragon language worked? Or was it just so sensitive to the rose scent that even the honey couldn’t mask it?

In the end, due to my methods, a high-grade healer had to step in and restrain me.

Wait—maybe it'll like a different medicine.

As I tried to press forward with the test, things got heated, and in the scuffle, the hatchling escaped from my hands.

“Hey, hey, hold on—”

CRASH!

In the middle of trying to catch the hatchling, I knocked over a folding screen—and locked eyes directly with the people behind it, who were supposed to be judging me anonymously.

Standing beside my father was an old man, who appeared to be the supervising royal physician.

Both of them had their mouths hanging open, staring blankly at me.

“Uh... good afternoon.”

An awkward greeting passed between us.

“White hair... could that candidate perhaps be... wait, is he the Marquess’s son?”

“Mm...”

My father pressed his fingers to his temple, looking troubled. The exam was supposed to be anonymous to ensure fairness, so his reaction was understandable.

Damn it. Is this how I lose the position of personal physician?

I made it all the way to the final selection—it’d be such a waste to get disqualified over the format.

I’ve seen him before. The Imperial Medical Institute’s royal physician—Falkenhein.

If this guy’s my opponent, then there might be something I can work with.

Tap tap.

As I tried to come up with a plan, the sharp sound of high heels echoed loudly.

The noise from the corridor drew everyone’s attention. The door opened shortly after.

Asella entered, her expression one of visible displeasure, sweeping her gaze around the exam hall.

“Your Highness the Princess.”

Falkenhein greeted her.

It wasn’t exactly with full formal courtesy, but considering he served the Second Prince, that attitude wasn’t surprising.

Asella looked at me with her usual lowered gaze, then turned to Falkenhein and said—

“Sir Falkenhein. What exactly is the meaning of excluding me from the selection of my personal physician?”

“That is...”

Falkenhein seemed flustered by Asella’s abrupt indignation.

My father spoke up in his place.

“Your Highness. Sir Falkenhein personally prepared the exam contents to ensure fairness, and the tests were being conducted as a blind evaluation.”

“I’m saying I have a problem with that. Isn’t it only natural that I should be the one to decide who becomes my personal physician?”

“But Your Highness...”

Falkenhein rebutted, his expression unusually serious.

“As Your Highness well knows, a royal physician is far more than just a personal doctor. It’s a position that carries power and influence. Within the Imperial Medical Institute, which comprises over two hundred of the Empire’s finest healers, it is the highest-ranking role and grants authority over an entire faction of physicians.”

Falkenhein wasn’t trying to provoke her—he was simply stating the truth.

“Which is why, as the senior royal physician, it’s necessary for me to verify the final candidate. While I entrusted the Gotberg training facility to handle selection up to this point, if there’s anything disqualifying about the finalist that could tarnish the reputation of the Institute...”

“And what else does my personal physician need to do besides treating me?”

Asella raised her chin and glared at him.

Overwhelmed by her intensity, Falkenhein fell silent.

“Whatever games go on inside the Institute, handle them among yourselves. I will manage my own physician. And the one person I want to pick from the finalists is—”

She lifted her arm and pointed her index finger at me.

“Las Gotberg.”

A heavy silence descended. The other candidates, as well as the senior healers overseeing the selection, all stiffened with visible tension.

Falkenhein was the first to speak.

“So, he really is of House Gotberg. Your Highness wishes to appoint that candidate?”

The look on his face was... strangely relaxed.

No, beyond that—he was practically grinning to himself.

What the hell?

“Just a moment! I can’t accept this!”

Gis, who had been quietly observing until now, marched out from behind the blind.

“That candidate failed to produce any results in front of the task just moments ago! And the anonymity of the exam was completely compromised! If the winner was predetermined from the start, then what’s the point of this entire process?!”

“I agree as well!”

The third candidate also raised his voice. What was his name again? I forgot.

Strictly speaking, their argument wasn’t wrong.

Gis probably felt this was unjust.

Still, I had come this far. I wasn’t about to back down now.

Asella glanced at the other candidates.

She walked up to stand before Gis and asked, her voice cold as ice:

“You there. Do you wish to become my personal physician?”

Gis flinched and stepped back slightly, startled by her approach.

“O-Of course.”

“I asked whether you’re prepared to devote your entire life to Asella von Württempelt, Princess of the Empire.”

“...That as well, of course.”

Gis’s voice trailed off as he was crushed by Asella’s sheer presence.

Asella gave him a scornful snort and raised her hand, chanting a spell.

“Ice Spear.”

Three magic circles formed instantly above her raised right hand.

The air melted and gathered into shape, condensing into a razor-sharp spike before anyone realized it.

Gis swallowed hard when he saw it. Looks like he was finally understanding what kind of position he’d dared to pursue.

But what Asella did next was unexpected.

Slice!

With a flick of her wrist, she drove the sharp ice spike into her own left arm.

Everyone in the room froze like statues—just like the ice.

Scarlet blood began dripping from Asella’s pale-white forearm.

“Heal it.”

Her voice was flat, emotionless.

Gis, now pale as a sheet, slowly raised his trembling hands.

“...O merciful goddess, hear my prayer...”

He began chanting a healing spell. Divine light bloomed from his palms and wrapped around Asella.

In that instant—

Crack!

The white holy light twisted in the air as if crushed by a fist, then warped and turned gold—Asella’s color.

“Wh-What...?”

“You try it too.”

Asella shot a glance at the third candidate.

He also cast a healing spell, but the result was the same. The magic failed to take hold.

Asella’s immense magical power was instinctively rejecting and distorting their low-grade spells.

At last, she turned her gaze to me.

So she really is a tyrant.

I shrugged and stepped forward toward her.

I pulled out a handkerchief from my coat.

Carefully, I wiped the blood that had already reached her elbow.

“This might sting a little.”

I took out some red medicinal solution and applied it over the wound. Her arm twitched slightly, but her expression didn’t budge.

The injury wasn’t deep—just a light cut.

It wouldn’t leave a scar.

I brought out a linen band and activated emergency treatment.

A firm knot was tied over Asella’s left arm.

“It’s done.”

Her arm glowed faintly orange.

The treatment had taken effect.

Asella tilted her head slightly and looked back at Falkenhein.

No more words were needed.

Falkenhein stood from his seat and clapped his hands.

“That was an excellent demonstration. While there were some procedural {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} issues, given the outcome, I find it entirely convincing.”

He turned to my father and added,

“It seems Her Highness has made her choice. Congratulations, Lord Gotberg.”

“Thank you.”

The senior healers also began applauding now that the selection was decided.

I glanced over at the other candidates.

Gis was gritting his teeth in frustration, but gave me a short nod.

At least he knew how to accept defeat.

“Lord Las.”

A sharp voice struck my ear, and I quickly turned to respond.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“You don’t look very happy.”

“Not at all. I am overwhelmed with gratitude to be given the honor of serving you, Your Highness.”

Asella’s golden eyes gazed up at me.

Ugh. This is way too much pressure.

She gave the faintest smirk—the perfect expression for a villainess—and ordered me:

“I’ll show you around the Imperial Palace. Follow me.”