Reborn as the General's Useless Daughter-Chapter 132: Saving Marcus (Part-3)

The technique of vibrating needles was a long-lost art. Even among doctors who practiced acupuncture, very few had ever glimpsed it, let alone mastered it. Anyone capable of such a feat was usually an aged medical grandmaster with their entire life devoted to healing.

And yet, standing before them now was a girl of 16 years old.

For a moment, everyone forgot how to breathe.

Reesa stared in open admiration, her shock quickly turning into unrestrained awe. "Zora is... she’s practically a Divine healer. I don’t even know how to admire her properly anymore."

Raphael’s expression was a mixture of disbelief and wonder. Ever since meeting Zora, he had sensed that she was extraordinary. But this level of ability far exceeded anything he had imagined.

Tiffany’s eyes glistened as she watched the focused figure before her. Guilt quietly surfaced in her heart. Earlier doubts now felt unbearably shallow.

Clarissa, on the other hand, stood frozen. Her mouth hung slightly open, as though something had lodged itself in her throat. From the moment Zora began the acupuncture, a sense of dread had crept into her chest. Now, that dread had fully bloomed.

Gerrad’s gaze grew increasingly profound. A sharp gleam flashed through his eyes. He knew now that he had not misjudged this girl. For the long-lost vibrating needle technique to appear in her hands, her teacher could only be an existence of terrifying caliber.

The college truly hid dragons and crouching tigers.

No one spoke. No one dared to move.

As the needles continued their controlled vibration, everyone saw it clearly. The blackened toxin within Marcus’s body began to stir, drawn inexorably toward his left wrist.

The darkness gathered faster and faster until his entire left hand was engulfed in pitch-black coloration. The sight was chilling, the contrast stark and ominous.

Yet in that very moment, hope quietly took root.

At the sight of this scene, Gerrad’s eyes flickered with unmistakable brilliance.

The moment the toxin gathered so cleanly at one point, he knew that Zora had truly succeeded.

The terrifying aspect of the green-scaled python’s poison lay in its ability to seep into every corner of the body, entwining itself with flesh and blood alike. Once spread, it was nearly impossible to expel completely.

Yet Zora had done the impossible, using the vibrating needle technique to forcibly draw every strand of poison out of Marcus’s body and compress it into a single location.

With that, the greatest obstacle had been overcome.

Marcus’s life was saved.

Zora lifted her gaze and turned slightly toward Gerrad. Her voice was steady, though faint exhaustion lingered beneath it. "Vice-President, do you have blood-replenishing potions?"

At this moment, Marcus was already extremely weak. The amount of poisonous blood about to be discharged was significant. Without immediate replenishment, excessive blood loss could plunge him into another life-threatening crisis.

"Yes. Give them to me." Gerrad responded without hesitation. Over the past days, many injured practitioners had suffered severe blood loss, and he had refined a large quantity of blood-replenishing potions in preparation.

Zora gave a slight nod.

The vibration of the silver needles intensified, their rhythm accelerating as if driven by an invisible current. The dark mass gathered at Marcus’s left hand grew thicker and deeper in color, writhing ominously beneath the skin. The sight alone was enough to make one’s scalp tighten.

When the needles finally fell still, Zora swiftly produced a sharp blade and opened a small incision at Marcus’s wrist.

*zzzz*

Thick, pitch-black blood immediately gushed out, carrying with it an acrid stench. Marcus’s body shuddered faintly, a reflexive response to the violent expulsion.

The poisonous blood collected in an iron basin, releasing a sizzling sound as it pooled. Before long, the basin itself began to corrode under the toxin’s strength. Cracks spread across the metal, and in moments, the basin was eaten through.

A sharp intake of breath echoed around the room.

Everyone knew the green-scaled python’s poison was vicious, but witnessing it firsthand was another matter entirely. It was no wonder Marcus’s body had suffered such severe decay.

As the blood dripped onto the ground, it continued to hiss and foam, even corroding the stone floor beneath. The sight sent a chill creeping up everyone’s spine.

Gradually, as the last of the poisonous blood flowed out, the purple-black hue on Marcus’s face began to fade. In its place appeared a deathly pallor, pale as paper, yet undeniably alive.

The instant the discharge was complete, Gerrad stepped forward and poured a thick blood-red potion directly into Marcus’s mouth, which then dissolved into his body and passed through his veins. When the potion interacts with his remaining blood, the blood absorbs the potion, and its amount grows multifold.

And right now, the potion’s effect took hold almost immediately, stabilizing his condition.

Zora then focused on the final step, carefully bandaging Marcus’s wrist. Her movements were practiced and meticulous, every wrap precise and secure, as though she had performed this task countless times before.

"It’s done." She straightened and looked toward Gerrad. "The toxin has been completely expelled. The rest is up to you."

Marcus’s injuries were severe, and detoxification was only the first step. With proper medical treatment, he could recover more quickly. While Zora was capable of seeing the process through to the end, it would require more time than necessary under the current circumstances.

Gerrad studied her with deep admiration. "You’re exhausted. Go and rest."

Only then did everyone notice the fine sheen of sweat on Zora’s forehead and the faint pallor on her otherwise radiant face. It was clear that this treatment had taken a far greater toll on her than it appeared on the surface.

She smiled lightly, though her breathing was subtly slower than before. "Thank you for your concern, Vice-President."

Gerrad’s gaze softened. Admiration gradually deepened into genuine appreciation.

A girl so young, yet capable of such mastery, could only have a formidable future ahead of her. Talent alone was never enough. Without relentless effort, even the greatest teacher could achieve nothing.

He was certain of one thing. Zora’s master was no ordinary figure. And a disciple raised under such guidance would never bring disgrace to her lineage.

A faint sound then broke the stillness, subtle yet clear enough to draw everyone’s attention.

Marcus, who had been unconscious all this time, slowly opened his eyes.

Though his face was still pale and carried the marks of serious injury, it was undeniably better than before. The haze of death that had clung to him was gone.

His gaze swept over the familiar faces around him, and a relieved, almost foolish smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He had survived the beast tide. He returned from the White Mountains. Against all odds, he had made it back to the academy alive.

Tiffany rushed to his side at once, her voice trembling with urgency. "How are you feeling?"

Marcus shook his head faintly. "I’m fine."

Weak, yes. Exhausted beyond measure, certainly. But compared to the agony that had nearly torn him apart earlier, this was nothing. This weakness was a blessing.

Tiffany’s tears finally spilled over. Joy flooded her eyes as she clutched his sleeve, unable to hold herself together any longer.

Marcus was alive. Truly alive.

Seeing her cry, Marcus frowned slightly and looked at her with a hint of helplessness. "I’m not dead. Why are you crying?"

"I was just... just a little late," Tiffany choked out.

Only a little later, and she would never have seen him again.