Luo Feng stood beside the Duchess's bed, the dim lantern light casting long shadows across the room. Duke Harlan's voice was raw with exhaustion as he stared at his wife's frail form. "Only the legendary All-Cure Herb can save her now," he whispered. "Everything else—potions, spells, healers—has failed."
Luo Feng's calm eyes met the Duke's. "Did you send someone to search for it?"
The nobleman gave a bitter laugh. "Of course. I sent the best. But that herb grows only in the deepest heart of the Forbidden Forest—the place where even S-rank monsters roam freely. Not even a full party of twenty A-rank adventurers would dare enter. Those who tried never returned. I have spent a fortune and lost good men trying to reach it."
Luo Feng nodded once, his expression unchanging. "I understand."
Without another word he reached into the plain leather Storage Bag on his wrist. His fingers closed around one of the glowing, silver-veined leaves he had gathered months ago in that very same deadly forest. He drew it out and held it up to the light.
The entire room froze.
The legendary All-Cure Herb shimmered with soft inner radiance, its leaves pulsing faintly like captured starlight. Servants gasped. Guards at the door stiffened. Miya's eyes went wide with shock—she had seen him gather many strange plants during their journey, but never one like this. Duke Harlan stumbled back a step, his face draining of color.
"That… that is the legendary All-Cure Herb," he breathed, voice trembling. "A national-treasure-level item. Worth more than half the royal treasury. How… how did you come to possess something like that?"
Every eye in the chamber turned to the quiet young traveler.
Luo Feng met the Duke's stunned gaze without flinching. "I will tell you later, my lord," he said gently. "Let me cure her first."
Duke Harlan swallowed hard, then gave a single, sharp nod. "Do it. Please."
Luo Feng stepped closer to the bedside. He placed the sacred herb on a small marble table the servants quickly cleared for him. With steady, practiced hands—the same hands that had once plowed fields in Churachandpur—he began to prepare the potion. He crushed the leaves with a pestle, mixed them with a few drops of pure spring water from his Storage Bag, and carefully heated the mixture over a small spirit lamp until it turned into a shimmering golden liquid that smelled of fresh rain and distant forests.
Miya stood right beside him, her hand resting lightly on his back, offering silent support. The Duke watched without blinking, hope and disbelief warring on his face.
Luo Feng lifted the finished potion in a small crystal vial, its glow soft and pure. He turned to the Duke.
"It is ready."
The room held its breath as the unblessed farmer from a forgotten village prepared to save a noblewoman no one else in the kingdom could help.