The Phoenix Bride Rises: Trust Was Her First Mistake のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

Word of Colonel Xander's miraculous recovery had already rippled through the highest levels of Country L’s government, but when Captain Hutchins, a man once declared a lost cause, walked out of the treatment room with clear eyes and steady hands, the story exploded beyond borders. News outlets, international health forums, and military intelligence briefings all shared one headline: “Who Is Arla-Rosa Hernandez? The nineteen year old Healer Turning Science on Its Head.” From Country R to the Empire of Z, envoys were dispatched posthaste to Brilliant City, their diplomatic missions suddenly detoured with a singular plea: “Let us meet her. Let us borrow her, even for a month. Our Prime Minister needs her. Our Field Marshal. Our Emperor.” The government of Country L remained calm, if amused. Inside the secure walls of the fortified Military Barracks of Unit 9, Arla-Rosa continued treating her patients with unwavering focus. Each of the original four veterans entrusted to her care showed

The final patient, a once-renowned general from Country E who had been paralyzed from the waist down due to rare spinal degeneration, took his first step on the morning of the tenth day. His trembling hands reached for Arla-Rosa as tears slipped down his battle-worn cheeks. The room had been silent, no machines whirring, no lectures echoing from whiteboards, just the sound of victory etched into human breath. He had walked again. And with that step, Arla-Rosa’s nineteenth soul was healed. Twelve lives in two months. She had surpassed even her own quiet expectations. The entire barracks erupted in celebration, but Arla remained composed, calmly bowing her head to the generals and whispering her thanks to Master Ye in her heart. It was time to go back to campus. The military command, however, was not quite ready to let her go. At a briefing attended by the generals, foreign attaches, and the Minister of Defense himself, Arla-Rosa stood in her pressed uniform, graceful but firm. “Are yo

Across the border in Country D, the private lounge of the Fleming House of Hope tower overlooked the glittering skyline of the capital city. The penthouse-level was soundproofed, pristine, and clinical, much like its owner.Duke Fleming leaned back in his leather chair, a half-read report in his hand and his eyes distant. The wind tousled the fine strands of his silver-blonde hair, and a vein pulsed at his temple. He had read through dozens of research journals and military medical reports over the last three weeks, but one name kept surfacing with increasing frequency.Arla-Rosa Hernandez. He had first heard of her from a delegation that returned from Country L. Their descriptions had seemed exaggerated at the time, some prodigy from a war-torn background who had healed twelve elite cases in under two months. But what really caught his attention were the before-and-after scans.Cases that top consultants had deemed irreversible were resolve

Brilliant City Medical University was a hive of controlled chaos. Students, administrators, and professors alike buzzed with anxious anticipation. Graduation loomed in less than four weeks, and the final round of assessments had begun in full swing. For most students, it was a make-or-break period. But for Arla-Rosa Santon, it was war. Not against the school or the exams, but against the odds she had systematically torn down and rebuilt in her favor.Seated in the exam hall, her hands rested lightly on her desk, fingers calm, eyes razor-focused. Paper after paper was placed before her, neurology, surgical innovation, internal medicine, pharmacological theory, biogenetics, emergency trauma, even archaic diseases and new-age regenerative medicine.She did not flinch. There was no room for rest, not even mentally. Her body was fatigued from the recent weeks of high-stakes healing across military and foreign districts, but her mind, her mind was honed, ruthle

In the depths of a private estate far from prying eyes, a high-tech surveillance monitor glowed with the digital trail of a singular target: Arla-Rosa Santon. “Unbelievable,” Duke muttered under his breath. She was more than just brilliant. She was calculating. Composed. Unshakable.With the full weight of his shadow network and alias, the elusive and ruthless underground boss "Grimm", he had peeled back layers of Arla-Rosa’s past. What he discovered made his jaw tighten.She had once loved a man named Seth Robinson. A powerful young executive, born with influence but hollow inside. Arla-Rosa had poured her time, loyalty, and skill into his ventures. And yet, he had betrayed her in the worst way, by seducing her sister, Aretha, behind her back.Even worse, Seth had flaunted it. Arla-Rosa never confronted him. She simply disappeared... and then rose. Her vengeance was the quiet kind, the kind that strangled slowly, beautifully, with silk glov