After a while, Luo Feng and Miya reached the grand gates of Duke Harlan's estate on the quieter edge of the capital. The mansion rose behind high stone walls like a small palace, banners of blue and gold fluttering in the breeze. Two armored guards stepped forward immediately, spears crossed, faces stern.
"No one is allowed inside," one barked. "We're under strict orders to prevent another assassin after what happened to the Duchess."
Luo Feng bowed respectfully and held up the guild quest paper. "I am an adventurer," he said in his calm, steady voice. "I came to complete the quest."
The guard took the paper, scanned the guild seal and the bold red lettering, then exchanged a quick glance with his partner. Their expressions shifted from suspicion to surprise. Without another word they uncrossed their spears and opened the gates.
"Enter," the first guard said. "The Duke will want to see this himself."
A servant in fine livery hurried out to meet them the moment they stepped into the marble courtyard. He listened to the guards' report, eyes widening, then rushed inside. Minutes later Duke Harlan himself appeared at the grand doors, still dressed in the same velvet robes from the market, his face drawn with exhaustion and hope.
The Duke stopped short when he recognized the young traveler and the beautiful village girl beside him. "Oh… it's you, Feng," he said, voice cracking with surprise. "Did you truly accept my quest?"
Luo Feng bowed deeply. Miya curtsied beside him. "Yes, my lord. I did."
The Duke stared at him for a long moment, searching the calm young face. "Can you really cure my wife?" he asked, the words heavy with desperation. "Every healer and high mage in the kingdom has failed. The poison… it's killing her slowly."
Luo Feng met the nobleman's eyes without flinching. "Yes," he answered simply. "I can."
Duke Harlan's shoulders sagged with relief. He turned without another word and led them through the echoing halls, past worried servants and closed doors, until they reached the private bedchamber. The room was dim, curtains drawn, filled with the faint scent of herbs and sickness.
The Duchess lay on a large canopied bed, thin and frail, her once-beautiful face now pale and sunken. Dark circles ringed her eyes—black as midnight from the legendary mushroom poison that no ordinary cure could touch. Her breathing was shallow, labored, each rise of her chest a quiet struggle.
Duke Harlan stood beside the bed, one hand gently resting on his wife's, his eyes pleading as he looked back at Luo Feng.
The unblessed traveler from another world stepped closer, Miya staying right beside him, her hand brushing his for silent support. The room fell quiet except for the faint, struggling breaths of the poisoned noblewoman.