Moulting Ritual Begins

Isabel was lying in a spot very close to the side.

Rather than lying on Iver's lap, it would be more accurate to say that the back of his head rested on the side of Iver's thigh.

It's like having the back of your head against the headboard, almost falling off. And your neck will feel uncomfortable too.

It wasn't that she was shy or felt there was a difference between men and women—it was just that she was worried about hurting Iver or that her head was too heavy and pressing on Iver's legs—after all, in her mind Iver usually used a wheelchair, so she felt embarrassed to lie down too comfortably.

She was actually straining her neck, trying to maintain a somewhat awkward but barely balanced posture.

"Doesn't your neck hurt like that?"

Iver spoke softly, his voice like a whisper in one's ear.

He reached out and supported the back of Isabel's head with his other hand, while placing his other hand on her shoulder, and softly commanded, "Lean up a little. Yes, a little higher..."

He only let go when Isabel was fully able to lie on his lap.

Isabel, however, instinctively exerted even more force.

She strained her neck and shoulders, trying to make her head feel as light as possible.

"Well..."

Iver sighed helplessly, "Relax."

He reached out and pressed Isabel's chin with one hand and her head with the other—if he twisted her head hard at that moment, the Princess would probably be dead. Such intimate physical contact made Isabel instinctively want to cry out, but she immediately controlled her reaction, which made her face turn red instantly.

But Iver only gently shook her head and whispered, "Relax, relax more... just like you're sleeping, relax your body, don't strain your hands... don't shake... otherwise you'll resist my light, and I won't be able to treat you properly..."

Iver tried to soothe her for a while, but Isabel still wasn't completely relaxed. But at least she was now actually lying on Iver's lap.

She dared not open her eyes, for Isabel could feel Iver's soft, warm breath on her face. She was already straining herself to maintain deep breathing and remain calm.

"Good, very good..."

"Iver said softly."

For some reason, Isabel felt that Iver's voice... was like that of a pet she had tamed. And just having that association made her heart pound wildly. She could even hear her own heartbeat and feel her veins throbbing just by lying on Iver's lap.

Immediately afterwards, she felt a warm palm placed on her forehead.

A surge of heat flowed from her palms and into her brain.

It felt like a head massage, or like immersing your head in hot water to wash your hair... but warmer and more comfortable than either of those combined. An invisible heat permeated her flesh and skull, and she couldn't help but groan softly; in an instant, her body relaxed.

Headache, dizziness, dry eyes... many uncomfortable symptoms disappeared at a visible speed, like fresh stains being washed away by hot water.

At the same time, Isabel could clearly feel another surge of heat starting from her neck and moving nimbly downwards. This made her instinctively squeeze her legs together and gasp.

The heat first surged into her heart, then her lungs, stomach... it traveled through every organ in her body. Normally, Isabel might have immediately and shyly tried to stop it, but the continuous heat emanating from her forehead made her feel drowsy, and she hoped the treatment could continue.

Immediately afterwards, she felt the small warm current in her heart grow larger. A stronger warm current flowed through her limbs and bones with each pumping of her heart.

But soon, she felt a chill on her forehead.

—It wasn't that it was cold, but that Iver had removed his hand.

She opened her eyes and felt her vision was clear and her mind was exceptionally sharp. Her headache and dry eyes had completely disappeared, making her feel even more comfortable than after a long sleep. Her brain, which had just been warmed by the heat, now felt cool.

It's like taking a hot bath and then feeling cool.

"Don't you usually go to the bishop for treatment?"

Looking down at Isabel, who had just opened her eyes and was looking on with curiosity, Iver was somewhat puzzled.

Isabel has quite a few minor flaws, making her seem less like royalty.

—Logically speaking, shouldn't the royal family summon bishops for treatment at the slightest ailment or discomfort? Many knightly families are like that... for example, the Moriarty Family. Whenever Yulia was unwell, her foster father or older brother would go looking for someone. At that time, Iver was still young and didn't know what to do, so he could only watch anxiously from the sidelines.

But things are different now.

He truly gained the ability to help others and heal their wounds—he didn't need to seek out others; he could do it better than they could.

But Isabel just gave a sheepish smile and didn't give a direct answer.

Iver didn't ask for an answer; he just asked casually.

"You have a bit of a cold, your heart isn't feeling well, and your stomach isn't doing too well either... Have you been having a poor appetite lately? Your nutrition seems a bit off... Your periods have also been a bit irregular, but I've taken care of those for you. But these are all minor issues that have only recently appeared, so remember to eat more."

As a temporary doctor, Iver still earnestly advised, "Also, your neck might not be very good. But I cured it for you with the Illumination Spell. It's a problem caused by looking down too much. Remember to look up more often. Using the Illumination Spell too much might deplete your health, so you'll have to take care of your nutrition yourself."

Putting everything else aside, he knows this all too well. One look and he's got Cervical Vertebrae spondylosis. Iver had this problem in his Previous Life... or rather, very few urban white-collar workers are without neck problems.

Fortunately, the principle of Illumination Spell is to "dispel pain". By refining and materializing the abstract concept of pain and using light to dispel and illuminate it, the body can be restored to a healthy state.

As long as you know where something is wrong with the other person's body, you can directly infuse your magic to heal them. Otherwise, Iver wouldn't know how to heal such a thing.

It's surprising that Isabel would have this problem in this era without cell phones... Perhaps Yanis's practice assignments were too heavy. After all, Isabel's profession is "All-rounder".

"I will remember that."

Isabel spoke earnestly.

"Then you should get off my lap, Isabel."

Iver said with a smile.

Isabel then realized that she was lying on Iver's thigh!

She quickly stood up, her long, pale golden hair flowing freely, a few strands even brushing against Iver's face. A delicate rose scent wafted towards Iver —the smell of her shampoo.

Iver caught a whiff of the scent and was somewhat surprised.

Is it really true that Isabel uses this mature-sounding fragrance...?

"Would you like to come with us? Would you like to witness Ms. Meg's ceremony?"

Iver extended an invitation.

Although Meg was only waiting for Iver, he believed that if he sent Isabel, she wouldn't refuse.

After all, Meg and Isabel seem to have a good relationship. Or rather, given Isabel's personality, although she may not have many friends her own age, she should have a good relationship with her elders.

"What ceremony?"

Although Isabel asked the question, she had already subconsciously followed Iver toward the door.

"Reversing to Youth Ritual."

"...Huh?" Isabel was taken aback.

She didn't think Iver was bragging—in her eyes, Iver was so mysterious, knowledgeable, and powerful. It was quite normal for him to know some rituals that even the Court Ritualist didn't.

But turning back the clock... isn't that a bit too outrageous?

and...

Upon hearing this, she immediately thought of her Grandmother.

"Your Majesty, she..."

Isabel hesitated for a moment, and slowed her pace as she followed behind Iver.

As soon as she opened her mouth, Iver guessed what she was thinking.

Iver shook his head and refused, saying, "Your Majesty is probably not up to it. This ritual is extremely painful and requires immense willpower to endure. Moreover, even if you succeed, you will no longer be the person you were before—your appearance, bloodline, voice, and talents will all be changed. How will Your Majesty then govern the country?"

A person who is different from the Queen in age, appearance, lineage, profession, and spiritual level suddenly appears and claims to be Queen Sophia has been rejuvenated...

Regardless of whether anyone believes it, this is already a pretext for a neighboring country to send troops or for an internal rebellion.

"Moreover, given Ms. Meg's character, she will definitely try out the ritual first. If it's successful, she will certainly share it with His Majesty—regardless of whether His Majesty agrees or not, she will definitely say so. So it's not our place to meddle."

Iver analyzed it carefully.

At that moment, Meg's hearty laughter still rang out. "Well said! You understand me, little Fox!"

... Why are you calling me Fox like Sherlock?

Iver somewhat helpless, but too lazy to correct him.

Just as he had discussed with Sherlock in his dream, Iver also quite liked Fox. "Fox Spirit" wasn't entirely a derogatory term for him; rather, it seemed to be a compliment to his exceptional charm.

Because he needed to concentrate fully for this ritual, he didn't use a wheelchair this time. Instead, he sent the Shadow Fiend under Lily —even though it was impossible for the Shadow Fiend to successfully hide in front of Meg.

But he also became increasingly daring.

Rather, it's precisely because of the existence of Shadow Fiend that it becomes much more reasonable for Iver to know about this ancient ritual that no one else knew about.

What others may not know, Shadow Fiend may well know.

—Many people have already taken the blame for Shadow Fiend, so this time you'll have to take the fall for me.

As expected, Meg only glanced at Lily's shadow and didn't say anything throughout.

They soon arrived at the Ritual Room.

This is the two underground levels of the Silver and Tin Palace, which maintains absolute quiet and atmospheric balance—"underground" also carries the meaning of "mystery," as being deep and high enough increases the success rate of rituals.

"Ms. Meg, are you ready?"

Although he knew it was pointless to ask, Iver still needed to confirm. "If the ritual fails, there's about a one-in-three chance of death... Have you written your will?"

This was the first time he had presided over a ceremony of this caliber—and a major ceremony involving Meg's life.

It's impossible not to be nervous.

"Ha," Meg laughed fearlessly, "You're just a junior, so don't worry about this. I've already thought of everything you can think of, and even things you can't think of. I even took a day off for you all."

"Hurry up—it'll be dawn soon. Aren't we supposed to wait until the sun is just about to rise? I don't want to wait another day."

"OK."

Iver nodded and took a deep breath. "Then let's begin."

Chapter Two, Update Complete! Cetirizine Hydrochloride Saved My Cat's Life, But Sickness Still Requires Medication!