Miraculous Healing

The Pyrenees Mountains, a majestic natural boundary between France and Spain, stretch from the Mediterranean in the east to the Bay of Biscay in the west. These mountains, located in southwestern Europe, are not only a striking geographical feature but also steeped in cultural and historical importance. On the French side, the northern slopes are sharply steep, creating classic rugged terrain that perfectly complements France's timeless, serene pastoral landscapes.

Nestled in the Pyrenees is Lourdes, a renowned destination famous for its miraculous spring waters. Known for their healing properties, the Lourdes Spring attracts visitors from across the globe, cementing its status as a one-of-a-kind tourist hotspot.

Luca Caster's family home is in the picturesque town of Lourdes. Starting their journey from Paris, the group drove for about nine hours before reaching the Bourgogne-Franche-Comté region. After a brief pause, they ventured into the majestic mountains, winding along narrow roads flanked by thick forests. By then, it was already 10 PM. The mountain fog hung heavily in the air, obscuring the trees and making them appear ghostly in the vehicle's headlights—a scene reminiscent of an enchanted forest. Yet, no one in the car had the presence of mind to appreciate the surreal beauty.

Though Luca no longer feared the mayor of Fédèle, his heart remained heavy with concern for his family. Meanwhile, Adam Alexander and Sacré sat tensely in the front seats, clearly on edge, as though afraid of making even the slightest mistake. Sacré, in particular, shuddered every time he recalled his previous disrespect toward the elder of the Alexander family seated behind him.

Little did Sacré know ofFanmuir's true identity. If he ever discovered the full extent of it, he might well faint from shock.

Despite the twists and turns of the mountain road, Sacré's expert driving and the off-road vehicle's superior suspension system ensured that Luca barely felt a bump in the back seat—a stark contrast to his usual bouts of nausea on this route.

Rounding a final bend, the view opened up, revealing flatter, wider roads lined with rows of quaint brick houses. Before long, they reached the charming town of Lourdes.

Lourdes is small but vibrant, with a gently winding river flowing through its center. The town's buildings are nestled along its banks, connected by several elegant bridges.

As a tourist destination, Lourdes showcases the splendor of France with its grand architecture and lively atmosphere. Even at this late hour, the streets glowed with lights, and the town bustled with life, its energy palpable.

Knowing it was already late and that his home was still a half-hour away, Luca decided it would be best to stay overnight in town. The recent rain had left the roads treacherous, and though he was eager to reunite with his family, he didn't want to overburden Adam or Sacré with further travel. Early the next morning, they would continue their journey.

Van Muir decided to respect Luca Caster's wishes. His reasoning wasn't due to Adam Alexander or Sacré but rather the practicalities—arriving at such a late hour would indeed be inconvenient for Luca's family.

With Adam Alexander around, there was no need for concern about accommodations. The momentFanmuir agreed to stay overnight in town, Adam promptly arranged for the best rooms in the finest hotel in Lourdes. Luca could only look on in astonishment, marveling at the display of wealth while feeling deeply thankful—after all, not only was he receiving help, but his benefactors were covering the costs as well.

Early the next morning, Adam Alexander's group was ready to set off at first light. Luca felt a surge of gratitude but couldn't shake the growing curiosity gnawing at him. Adam and Sacré's deference toFanmuir was striking—who exactly was this man he called his friend?

Seeing Luca's puzzled gaze,Fanmuir understood his friend's confusion. Smiling slightly, he once again explained his role as an elder in the Alexander martial family.

While Luca still found it almost unbelievable, the unspoken reverence in Adam Alexander's manner left no room for doubt. The sheer improbability of befriending such a figure left Luca in awe—how had fate led him to someone of such stature? A small sense of pride welled up within him, alongside a growing sense of gratitude.

The car continued along the mountain road, weaving through dense forests and occasional clusters of villages. About thirty minutes later, they reached a broader plateau where a small village nestled comfortably in the landscape.

"Just a bit further," Luca said, pointing excitedly. His demeanor betrayed his eagerness, likely stemming from his deep concern for his father's health.

"Don't worry,"Fanmuir assured him, resting a comforting hand on Luca's shoulder. "You're forgetting—I'm a senior figure in a martial family. Your father's injuries? Consider them handled."

"Thank you, Van!" Luca's voice was thick with gratitude.

"That's my house over there," he added, gesturing toward a pair of simple two-story brick homes in the distance.

The car pulled up in front of the house, and the three men stepped out. Sacré, ever the diligent driver, moved the vehicle to find a suitable parking spot.

The houses appeared newly built, with fresh paint still gleaming on the wooden doors. Before they could even reach the entrance, a strong medicinal aroma filled the air. From within came the sounds of chaos—shuffling feet, muffled cries, and bouts of violent coughing.

The familiar sound of his father's strained breathing made Luca's eyes brim with tears. Without a second thought, he ran into the house, leavingFanmuir and Adam to follow at their own pace.

Inside the main bedroom, Luca's father lay weak and battered on the bed. His head was wrapped in bandages, and his limbs were immobilized in casts. Years of toiling in the mountains had etched deep lines into his face, and now the swelling only added to his weathered appearance. A few bloodstains dotted the bandages, underscoring the gravity of his injuries.

Seeing his father in such a pitiful state, Luca's composure finally broke. Tears flowed freely as he choked out the word "Father" before collapsing onto the bedside. Gripping his father's calloused hand, he could only cry, unable to find the words to express his grief.

When Cast's father saw him return, his eyes briefly lit up with joy and pride, but the happiness was quickly replaced by frustration. He shot a sharp glare at Cast's mother, clearly blaming her for informing their son about the trouble at home.

Knowing his father well, Cast immediately understood the meaning behind that look. Feeling both upset and indignant, he responded, "Father, this isn't Mom's fault! Don't I have a right to know when something so serious happens at home? I'm not a child anymore—I can handle it!"

"Sigh!" Cast's father looked at his now-grown son, a mix of pride and worry flickering in his expression. He was proud of how responsible Cast had become, but he couldn't stop worrying about their family's future. If their vineyard was taken away by Frank Fedelle, all the years of hard work would be wasted, and they'd lose not only their livelihood but also the means to support Cast's education.

"Father, was it that thug Frank Fedelle? I'll teach him a lesson!" Cast snarled through gritted teeth, his thin fists clenching in anger.

Seeing his son so worked up, Cast's father shot another glare at his wife, trying to suppress his rising emotions. Despite his weakened state, he sat up with some effort and gently said, "Cast, people like us can't go up against officials. The old saying is true: commoners can't fight those in power. We just have to accept it." His voice trembled as tears began to streak down his face.

Fanmuir and Adam Alexander, who had followed Cast inside, were equally enraged upon witnessing this heartbreaking scene. Hearing the elder Cast's words of resignation only deepened their frustration. It was a sobering reminder of how powerless ordinary people often were—beaten for no reason, unable to retaliate, and forced to swallow their pride just to avoid further trouble. It was no wonder those in power felt they could act with impunity. If this had happened to someone else, it might have ended in silence. But with Fanmuir here, there was no way he would let such injustice slide, especially when it involved the father of his youngest brother.

"Don't worry, Uncle. With me here, those bullies won't get away with this," Fanmuir reassured him gently but firmly, fully aware of the elder Cast's desire to protect his son.

"Yes, don't worry! We're here to help!" Adam Alexander chimed in, his righteous anger clearly evident.

For the first time, Cast's father noticed the two men who had accompanied his son. One was a fair-skinned young man about Cast's age, while the other had a commanding presence that radiated authority.

Mountain folks are known for their simple and honest nature, and despite his injuries, Cast's father struggled to get up to properly welcome his son's guests. He even scolded Cast for not mentioning their arrival earlier, worrying that he hadn't shown them the hospitality they deserved.

The relatives and neighbors gathered around quickly fetched stools for Fanmuir and Adam Alexander to sit.

Seeing Cast's father wince in pain as he moved, Fanmuir decided there was no need to hide his healing abilities any longer. He resolved to treat the injuries right away.

Growing up in the Alps, Fanmuir's parents had given him access to countless books, including a vast array of medical texts. Over the course of 1,500 years, he had mastered a treasure trove of medical knowledge, even crafting miraculous medicines. To him, Cast's father's injuries were a minor issue, easily treated.

"Uncle, let me take a look at your injuries," Fanmuir said gently, his tone calm yet authoritative.

"What? You can heal?" Cast asked in astonishment, once again realizing there was much about Fanmuir that he didn't know. Cast glanced at Adam Alexander for confirmation. Adam, who clearly knew more, nodded firmly, leaving Cast no choice but to step aside with a mix of awe and disbelief as Fanmuir approached his father.

Though hesitant at first, Cast's father trusted his son's judgment. To him, a friend of his college-educated son had to be someone extraordinary. Grateful, he repeatedly thanked Fanmuir, saying, "I can't thank you enough!"

Under the astonished gazes of everyone in the room, Fanmuir carefully began unwrapping the bandages around Mr. Cast's head and body. Then, with a featherlight touch, he examined Mr. Cast's injuries, gently running his hands over his head, arms, and legs. A quick scan with his sharp eyes told him everything he needed to know.

Mr. Cast's injuries were far worse than they appeared on the surface. Beneath the bandages lay not only multiple fractures but also shattered bone fragments. Most alarming of all, there was a significant blood clot in his brain. Even in a state-of-the-art modern hospital, recovery would be almost impossible. Here, in this remote French village with its limited medical resources, his condition was a ticking time bomb.

After taking a deep breath to calm himself, Fanmuir softly instructed Mr. Cast to lie back. With a gentle pat, he sent the man into a deep, restful sleep.

Reaching into his pocket, Fanmuir retrieved a miraculous pill of his own creation. Carefully breaking it into five smaller pieces, he selected one tiny portion and placed it into Mr. Cast's mouth. After ensuring he had swallowed it, Fanmuir asked everyone else to leave the room. Once the door was closed, he activated his powers and began the treatment.

Within moments, Mr. Cast's injuries were completely healed. Every broken bone was restored, and the blood clot in his brain vanished without a trace. In fact, it was as if the man had been reborn—his long-standing rheumatism and joint pain, which had plagued him for years, were also gone.

While healing such injuries was an effortless task for Fanmuir, the process only fueled his growing anger toward the Fedelle family. To inflict such cruel and life-threatening harm on the father of one of his closest friends—a man he regarded as family—was something Fanmuir could not and would not forgive.