The Immortal Duke’s Physician Is an Internist - Chapter 28

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“When I die, cremate me together with my Treasure Box.”
Words the original Blasion had spoken to the heroine.
In the end, since everyone died together in the novel’s conclusion, it was never mentioned again — but I, having read “The Undefeated Flower” with such care, recognized it at once.
This was the Immortal Duke’s Treasure Box.
I set aside the most recent photograph that lay at the top, and beneath it appeared pictures of other people.
Young Kaerun and Everlane learning Swordsmanship together. A middle-aged man resembling Kaerun cheering them on.
Below that, someone entirely unfamiliar appeared. Gray-streaked hair, an apron tied at the waist — likely a maid who had once worked in this Mansion.
Another photograph showed a young man laboring at a Construction Site. Yet another captured a girl playing an instrument in a Store’s orchestra.
The photographs, which continued endlessly in this manner, gradually transformed into Portraiture.
The medium had changed, but faces remained preserved on paper all the same.
Countless faces left upon faded paper.
As I examined them slowly, I felt a sting at the tip of my nose.
“When someone precious dies, sorrow becomes a stone that presses heavily upon your chest. At first, that stone causes such suffering you can barely breathe…… but as time passes, the stone grows smaller, and eventually becomes nothing more than a pebble.”
“Then, in the end, that pebble disappears?”
“No. Rather than disappear, a person carries that small pebble in their pocket for the rest of their life.”
For me, that pebble was my mother’s Pocket Watch.
The countless photographs and Portraiture here were the worn, weathered pebbles the Duke had hidden away, having sent so many people to their rest across his long life.
“…… Teacher.”
“Your Grace?!”
Thud!
Startled, I lurched to my feet, and the box tumbled from my lap. Regardless, I rushed to assess the Duke’s condition.
“Are you conscious? Are you in terrible pain? How’s your breathing?”
“…… Ask one question at a time. It hurts like hell.”
“I’ll fetch a Painkiller right away. Just wait a moment.”
I fumbled urgently for the Painkiller in my bag, but he stopped me.
“It’s fine. Sit. I won’t die anyway.”
“Just because you won’t die doesn’t mean the pain isn’t excruciating, so hold still and take the injection.”
“I said it’s fine.”
“If you resist, I’m giving you the shot in the buttocks.”
“…… ”
The Duke fell silent. I administered the Painkiller to his arm and tidied my supplies.
Only then did I notice the Portraiture and photographs scattered across the floor. Embarrassed, I offered an apology.
“I’m sorry for opening it without permission.”
“…… It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing here I wouldn’t have shown you.”
Whether from exhaustion or genuine lack of anger, the Duke seemed unbothered. I settled back into the chair, cradling the box.
Thanks to the Painkiller, the Duke’s face had grown somewhat more at ease.
I ventured carefully to ask what had been puzzling me.
“You mentioned learning Portraiture before. Was that…… because you wanted to draw people’s faces?”
The Duke nodded.
“When did you start drawing?”
“Around age two hundred. Back then, I relocated every thirty years, and I began drawing the faces of those I’d been indebted to each time. I made a point of recording my own appearance as well, so nothing would overlap.”
Just as he described, the photographs contained various self-portraits of the Duke with different hairstyles.
I learned for the first time that while he’d originally had black hair, it had gradually turned white at some point.
He’d grown it long, tied it back, cut it short, worn an eye patch……
Seeing traces of his varied fashion choices across the ages made me smile. To be honest, with such fine features, any look suited him equally well.
“Do you remember all the people you drew portraits of back then?”
“I remember them.”
The Duke turned to look at the Portraiture in my hands. A flicker of longing crossed his eyes.
“That one is Hans, the landlord of the boarding house where I rented a room around age two hundred and fifty. He loved dogs and asked me to build him a doghouse.”
“And this person?”
“A knight who served at my side during the Second Holy War. A truly valiant young man, but…… he suffered grave injuries in the end and retired.”
“You mentioned participating in the Holy War. And this woman?”
“The head maid of a castle where I worked when I was four hundred years old. She was strict, but fundamentally a good person. She taught me how to Sew.”
People of diverse origins, encountered across diverse lands.
And the precious time spent with them.
The Duke continued recounting stories of those he missed, as though reading from a fairy tale.
The stories were tender, yet both he and I already knew the truth.
All the people he spoke of were already dead, and he would never meet them again.
“I’ve killed and saved plenty of people, but not a single one has come seeking repayment for debts from a past life. I don’t believe in Reincarnation.”
No matter how deeply two people share their hearts, no matter how much they love each other, humans must inevitably die.
Over the long years, he grieved without end, and how many times did he long for someone to be reborn, hoping against hope? How many times did he despair and suffer?
I bit my lip.
Was it not a kind of hypocrisy to speak of understanding a pain that no words could console?
‘All this time, I’ve only looked at the illness itself. I never once thought to consider the Duke’s heart.’
The realization shamed me, and a helpless frustration welled up inside.
“Sir.”
“……Yes?”
“Why are you crying?”
“Oh.”
I hadn’t even realized tears had begun to fall.
I hurried to wipe them away, but once the dam had broken, the tears would not be easily stemmed.
Now that I understood the loneliness I had only vaguely sensed in him, it felt as though a great hollow had opened in my chest.
I felt so terribly sorry for the nickname I’d given him—that “death-bound” epithet.
“……I’m sorry.”
The Duke wore an expression of utter bewilderment. My throat tight, I apologized again and again.
“I just thought of it lightly. If I had known, if only I had known how lonely you’ve been all this time, I would have tried harder…… more earnestly……”
“Why should you have to understand my loneliness?”
The Duke shook his head firmly.
“You’ve already done more than enough for me. I cannot ask for anything more.”
“……”
“My loneliness is my own. You cannot share it with me, and you must not try. That is why I wish, more than anything, to……”
The Duke’s words trailed off, his lips closing. But I understood what came after.
That is why I want to die as soon as possible.
I want to end this tedious existence.
“……I will do my utmost to find a way to fulfill your wish, Your Grace.”
It was something no physician should ever say.
But it was all I could offer him now.
“……If you would do that, I would be truly grateful.”
The Duke reached out his hand toward me.
Long fingers brushed away the tears at the corners of my eyes. Startled by this unexpected gesture, my eyes widened.
The Duke’s lips moved slightly as he held that gaze.
“……So it wasn’t my imagination after all.”
“……?”
The Duke murmured softly.
“When you cry, my heart races.”
* * *
The Duke fell asleep again.
I remained there until the morning sun rose, and the longer I gazed upon his face, the more my thoughts spiraled into confusion.
‘My heart races…… What does that mean?’
Before I could ask what he meant, he drifted into sleep.
I wanted desperately to shake him awake, but the spirit of Hippocrates that slumbered within me held back my hand.
“Well then. I’ll let it be. I cannot wake a patient…… ”
Collecting myself, I closed the lid of the wooden box.
‘If I cannot find a way for the Duke to die as matters stand now…… then I too will remain as nothing more than a single photograph in this Treasure Box.’
It was fortunate, in a way, that I had become someone precious enough that ten thousand gold would be left behind in this Treasure Box.
‘I wish this Treasure Box could be just a box.’
If, as in the original story, Everlane were to cooperate with the dark sorcerer and strike with the Silver Sword, then perhaps it might truly be possible to kill the Immortal.
But I wanted to protect the Duke.
‘I wish the Duke would suffer no more.’
I wanted to shield the child I had brought here and watched grow from the shock and despair of turning a blade against me.
I finally admitted it to myself.
From the moment I entered this Mansion, I prioritized my own survival over my duty as a physician.
But now I am choosing to safeguard the Duke’s heart over my own safety.
‘I still do not know what emotion drives this…… ‘
Moreover, if I were to discover not an immediate method to end the Duke’s life, but rather a way for him to age like an ordinary person,
and if I were to ask him to grow old alongside me—would he accept the passage of time with joy?
Would he embrace it?
‘For that to happen…… I cannot allow Everlane to make contact with the dark sorcerer and proceed as planned.’
With the morning sunlight, I rose from my place.
Now, truly, it was time to move as my heart demanded.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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