Dorian stormed into his son's room. He looked at Kalidorn, who lay crumpled on the floor. His once-proud son was reduced to such a pathetic state.
He hurried to his son's side. He bent down and placed a firm hand on his shoulder to shake him. "Kalidorn! What is the meaning of this? Wake up, boy!"
Accompanying Dorian was a tall, older man with the distinctive robes of a healer. This was Dr. Malwick, a renowned doctor Dorian had summoned desperately.
Dorian glanced at Dr. Malwick. "Doctor, check on him immediately. I need to know what's going on."
Dr. Malwick nodded without a word, stepping forward. He summoned his beast, Healing Jellyfish.
He guided the jellyfish toward Kalidorn's unconscious form. "Let's see what we're dealing with."
The beast's tentacles extended, glowing faintly as they began to scan Kalidorn's body.
Dorian crossed his arms as he watched him with a frown. "Well? What's wrong with him?"
Dr. Malwick furrowed his brow, his fingers brushing his chin as the jellyfish relayed its findings to him.
After a moment, he adjusted his glasses. "He has passed out, likely from a combination of stress and shock. There's no immediate danger to his life."
Dorian let out a small sigh of relief, but he still frowned. "And the... other issue? His manhood? What is happening to him?"
Dr. Malwick's face grew more serious as he exchanged a glance with the Healing Jellyfish. He hesitated for a moment but still said it. "This is... strange. My jellyfish tells me that the condition is entirely natural."
Dorian was surprised. He stepped closer to the doctor. "Natural? You mean to tell me that my son's... situation is normal? How can that be?"
Dr. Malwick raised his hand to calm Dorian down. "Let me clarify, Lord Dorian. Normally, when we refer to something being natural, we speak of growth."
He gestured toward Kalidorn. "In his case, it is the reverse. His manhood is... naturally shrinking. It has now fully... disappeared."
Dorian's face darkened as he processed the words. "Shrinking? Until it's gone?""
The doctor nodded. "Yes. The jellyfish indicates no illness, no curse, no external interference. It appears as though his body is naturally adapting in this way.
Dorian stepped back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Adapting? That makes no sense!"
He glanced at the doctor and held him down. "There must be a cause for this! What could trigger such a... horrifying phenomenon?"
Dr. Malwick shook his head. His expression was apologetic. "My Lord, I assure you, there is no illness to cure. This is not a disease—it is a natural process unique to him. As such, there is no remedy I can offer."
Dorian's chest rose and fell heavily as he tried to contain his anger. "This is unacceptable."
He looked at the doctor in anger. "You're telling me that my son's dignity—our family's dignity—is being stripped away by something 'natural'? How can this be?!"
Dr. Malwick remained silent, his hands clasped behind his back. He didn't want to make Dorian even angrier than before.
After a long pause, Dorian stopped and turned to the doctor. "If you can't solve this, then who can?"
Dr. Malwick met his gaze. "I'm afraid not, Lord Dorian. There was no healer that I know can fix something that isn't broken."
He gestured toward Kalidorn. "What is happening to Kalidorn is beyond the realm of medicine. I suggest seeking answers... elsewhere."
Dorian's fist tightened and frustatedly growled at the doctor. "Leave us! And take that jellyfish with you."
Dr. Malwick bowed down. He recalled his jellyfish back into his beast space. He exited the room without another word, leaving Dorian alone with his unconscious son.
Dorian stood over Kalidorn. His hands trembled in anger. Whatever was happening to his son, it was no accident. He intended to find out who was behind it.
---
Over the course of two and a half months, the Garran family fell into chaos. They were plagued by a series of misfortunes.
Kalidorn, who was driven mad by the humiliating loss of his manhood, had transformed into a madman who can't control himself.
In his madness, Kalidorn often unleashed his 3-Star Storm Hawk to kill anyone who dared cross his path. Be it a servant or innocent who displeased him. All of them were killed.
In the Garran estate's grand hall, Dorian sat in worry. He and his family had become weaker and he didn't know the reason at all. It was just like the misfortunes suddenly came to him.
Dorian looked at the gathered men and slammed his fist on the table in anger. "What is happening to this city? To my family? Why are we growing weaker by the day?"
One of the doctors stumbled while stepping forward. "My lord. We have investigated thoroughly. It seems that an epidemic is attacking our city."
Dorian was in disbelief. "An epidemic? How can't you tell me its nature? Its source? What good are you if all you bring me are questions?"
The doctor stuttered as he wrung his hands. "M-my lord, it is unlike any illness we have seen. It saps strength slowly, subtly. Those affected grow weaker over time, as if something... something unnatural is draining them."
Dorian became frustrated. "You dare bring me superstitions? Are you telling me the Garran family is cursed?"
The room fell silent. Dorian glared at his men. "All of you. Get out!"
The advisors and doctors bowed hurriedly and exited the hall. Left alone, Dorian leaned heavily against the table, his head bowed. "This cannot continue. I won't allow it."
Meanwhile, the city beneath the Garran family's rule was in disarray. Fear grew as rumors of sickness and death spread. It was also further intensified by whispers of Kalidorn's insanity.
Shops closed early, and citizens avoided the streets, wary of encountering the Storm Hawk or its deranged master.
Some merchants began to talk to each other about the current condition. "Did you hear? Kalidorn killed three men yesterday—one of them for accidentally brushing against him in the market."
The other man shook his head. "He's lost his mind. First, the epidemic weakens us, and now we have to worry about that madman roaming the city. What's happening to us?"
The day of the long-awaited tournament arrived, but the once-celebrated event had lost its luster.
The grand arena, which should have been filled with cheering spectators, sat eerily quiet.
Many participants had withdrawn from the competition, their strength drained by the mysterious sickness that plagued the city.
Others simply refused to face Kalidorn, whose growing reputation for cruelty had made him the tournament's most feared contestant.
In the preparation chambers beneath the arena, Kalidorn stood before a massive mirror, adjusting his armor.
His Storm Hawk perched on a stand nearby, its piercing gaze locked on its master.
Kalidorn was now waiting for the sacrifice that he would get here in this tournament.