Chapter 03
Figueiras smirked at those words, pulling up the corners of his mouth. While he had been sharpening his medical knowledge, Miguel seemed stuck with medical practices from decades ago.
“Calling him a doctor is an insult. He’s just a pig full of money,” Figueiras muttered as he criticized his long-time colleague. Meanwhile, Divoa’s calm voice filled the room. There was an odd power in his slow tone.
“I’ve heard that medical schools have changed their approach in recent years. They’re now teaching surgery, which used to be the barber’s job, in an organized way to students.”
The dean responded proudly, “Indeed, Your Grace. Our Royal Medical College of Dibois is the most progressive on the continent. Ten years ago, we were the first to allow women to enroll, and since then, we’ve produced many excellent female doctors. Thanks to them, the death rates among royal and noblewomen, as well as newborns, have significantly dropped. And now, we are the first to include surgery in our curriculum. It was my first innovation as dean.”
“I’ve heard the first students of this program are about to graduate. That’s why I’ve come here.”
Three students’ expressions subtly changed at Divoa’s comment. Even though the era of barbers performing surgeries had ended, surgery was still seen as inferior to internal medicine. Cutting bones with saws and stitching wounds with needles wasn’t considered noble work.
For noble children who weren’t the eldest sons, becoming a doctor and potentially the royal physician was a great honor. And now, that chance was right in front of them.
However, Divoa was looking for a surgeon—someone to sew up wounds and fix broken bones on the battlefield. That position wasn’t that of a royal physician but closer to a military doctor.
Then Divoa added, “You know, His Majesty worries a lot. I’ve heard he can’t sleep when I’m on the battlefield. If I had a skilled surgeon with me, it might ease his concerns.”
Everyone knew how much the king adored his youngest son. Despite the king’s attempts to keep Divoa in the capital, Divoa convinced him to let him return to his land, defending Dibois’s borders from Alvar’s provocations.
Every time, the king celebrated his son’s bravery but also worried about his safety, even sending officials to check on him.
“I need a surgeon to take to the battlefield,” Divoa declared.
Maxi’s mind raced. Should he hold onto his pride and remain an internal medicine doctor? Or become a surgeon and align himself with Grand Duke Cassis? Opportunities to become a royal physician were rare, and even if one arose, it might not reach him.
But becoming a surgeon would invite ridicule from his peers. While Maxi was stuck weighing his options, Divoa spoke again.
“Who among these three is the top student?”
A moment of silence followed Divoa’s casual question. He noticed the three students—Maxi, David, and Jose—avoiding his gaze.
“Well, well,” Divoa murmured, intrigued for the first time. He turned to Figueiras, who hesitated under Divoa’s sharp stare.
“Maxi Rosano here entered our medical college as the second-highest rank and has excelled in all subjects. He passed the medical exams as the runner-up and has shown great skills in both internal medicine and surgery…”
“So, who’s the top student?” Divoa interrupted, repeating the question calmly but firmly.
Figueiras finally replied, “The top student… isn’t here.”
Divoa raised an eyebrow and turned to the dean, questioning.
“I thought I asked for the top three students. Did my servant deliver the wrong message?”
The dean stammered, “N-no, Your Grace, that’s not the case!”
The dean then scolded Figueiras under his breath. “I told you to call the top three students by rank. How hard is that?”
Figueiras muttered an apology. Divoa stood up, towering over them with a faint smile.
“Where is the top graduate of the Royal Medical College?” Divoa asked.
“In the anatomy lab…”
“Anatomy lab? Bring them here immediately!” the dean barked, but Divoa waved it off.
“No need. I’ll go there myself,” Divoa said.
