He knocked on the door, and after a while, the wooden door creaked open a crack.
A sleepy middle-aged man in a robe poked his head out. Taking advantage of the dim candlelight from inside,
when he saw that Karl, who was clearly luxuriously dressed, was personally supporting a beggar emanating a foul stench, his face instantly filled with shock and astonishment.
Immediately after, his gaze fell on the beggar, and his expression immediately changed to undisguised contempt and disgust.
He covered his nose, suppressed the urge to vomit, and said very quickly: "Get out! I don't treat beggars here! Hurry up and get him out!" As he spoke, he was about to close the door.
Karl's eyes were cold, too lazy to talk to him. He lifted his foot and gave a light kick, as if casually.
The sturdy wooden door burst open with a bang, and the man behind it stumbled and nearly fell.
Before the man could get angry, Karl had already taken out several gold Orens from his pouch and, without looking, threw them directly into the other's face.
"Ow!" The man was taken aback by the gold coins, but his hand instinctively shot out and hastily caught a few Orens.
When he saw the tempting gold in his palm, the anger and contempt on his face instantly melted away, replaced by an almost fawning smile.
"Oh! My... my most gracious sir! You... please, come in! Please, come in!"
He quickly turned sideways to make way, nodding and inviting Karl and the beggar into the house, as if he hadn't just been about to throw them out.
...
After a while, the simple operation was finally completed.
The man took off his robe, now stained with blood and pus, and collapsed into a chair, sweating profusely.
On the hospital bed, the beggar seemed to have fallen into a coma due to severe pain and weakness.
"Doctor, what is his condition?" Karl asked.
The man wiped a handful of sweat from his forehead, gasped, and respectfully replied: "Sir, you got him here very quickly!"
"If it had been another night or two, his leg definitely couldn't have been saved..."
"Now, the leg is barely saved, but..." He paused, with some regret.
"In the future, I'm afraid it will be permanently disabled. It will be difficult to maintain balance, walking like a normal person will be hard, and running will be impossible."
Karl nodded, not surprised by this outcome—saving the other's life had changed his originally mortal fate.
He took out a few more Orens and placed them in the doctor's hand.
"Give him the best herbs. For subsequent treatment and recuperation, make sure there are no other infections or complications."
"Yes! Yes! Don't worry, sir!" The man clenched the gold coins tightly, a smile blooming on his face.
He even raised his hand and swore: "I swear by the goddess Melitele, I will do my best, using my best medicine!"
Karl glanced at the beggar, who was still "unconscious" on the bed, thought for a moment, turned, and left the clinic.
Anyway, he had some free time now. This man was too unfortunate; since he had helped, he might as well help a bit more.
He planned to go nearby to buy some food and drink, so that at least the other party wouldn't be hungry when he woke up.
Earlier, using his power of faith, he had sensed that this beggar had no abnormal energy fluctuations or traces of curses; he was a pure, very unfortunate ordinary person.
A few minutes later, Karl returned to the doctor's house with a large bag of wheat bread and several bottles of local wine.
He was arranging his things when, at that moment, a clear conversation unfolded on the street outside the clinic.
A calm male voice, like a guard's, sounded with slight helplessness: "Miss Iris, it's already late. We really should be going back."
"If I delay any longer, my lord and his wife will surely blame me."
Immediately after, a clear and pleasant girl's voice responded, but it was clearly depressed, with self-pity and slight grievance: "Go back? Back to that mansion that's like a cage?"
"My father and mother are always like this, locking me at home. I am like a bird with broken wings..."
"You know what? I need inspiration to paint! I need to see different people and feel different lights and colors!"
The girl's voice paused, and the grievance in her tone deepened: "Besides, I heard they've been busy lately negotiating my marriage to a noble? What's the other party's name? Karl El?"
At that moment, the guard seemed to have found a topic and quickly responded with words of persuasion: "Yes, miss. It's the new Grand Duke of Terra, His Excellency Karl El."
"I've heard he is very young and handsome, and was awarded the title due to his outstanding military achievements."
"He's different from the... nobles you've associated with, who rely on their ancestors. Perhaps... you might have more in common?"
The slender girl in the black dress heard this, lowered her head, and fell silent.
She seemed to be truly considering the guard's words. The moonlight illuminated her, outlining a melancholy and quiet silhouette.
At that moment, with a creak, the wooden door of the clinic on the right opened from the inside, and Karl stepped out with the food.
The girl and the guards by the door involuntarily turned their heads to look at the source of the sound.
The guard's eyes quickly scanned Karl, and deciding he wasn't a threat, he turned back to continue accompanying the young girl.
But the girl named Iris stopped in place, as if under a spell.
By the cold moonlight, she looked at Karl in surprise, almost obsessively.
In her eyes, good at capturing beauty, the appearance of the man before her didn't look like a real person, but like a character who had stepped out of a certain painting.
The vague and elusive "sense of alienation" she had felt when looking at someone or a landscape before disappeared, replaced by a certain heart-pounding perfection.
The contours of his face, his proportions, and even an indescribable temperament seemed to have passed the strictest aesthetic standards, instantly sparking her inspiration and creative impulse.
She couldn't help but take a small step forward and took the initiative to speak, her voice trembling slightly with excitement: "Sir... sir! Please forgive my presumption."
She took a deep breath and mustered the courage to say: "I have a request, which may be very presumptuous... Could you... pose as a model for my paintings?"
"Please don't misunderstand; I am a painter. Your... your very presence has given me unprecedented inspiration."
Karl looked at the girl who had initiated the conversation with him, and his heart was also slightly startled.
He hadn't thought about how to naturally contact Iris, but the other party had taken the initiative to speak to him, which saved him a lot of trouble.