The towering gate of Drum Castle groaned open, revealing flickering torchlight and figures rushing through the snow. The wind howled behind them, threatening to shove the doors back closed, but the castle's defenders held them steady. Dr. Kureha led the charge, her long coat flapping behind her like a banner as she stormed into the snow.
"Get that girl inside! Now!" she barked, her voice sharp enough to pierce the blizzard.
Several assistants dashed out, their footsteps muffled by the snow. They carefully lifted Nami from the sled with practiced precision, their movements quick but gentle. Her face was ghostly pale, sweat clinging to her forehead despite the freezing temperature. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, fogging faintly in the air. Sanji limped beside them, one hand on the sled for balance, his face pale but his eyes alert with worry. Every few steps he winced, but he refused to take his eyes off Nami.
Luffy stumbled forward behind them, his steps uneven. His hands were scraped and red, the rope still tied around his shoulders. The moment he crossed the threshold, his strength gave out. He collapsed just inside the gate, falling face-first into the slush-covered stones with a dull thud. The snow clung to his face and clothes, melting slowly under the growing warmth inside.
"Move it!" Kureha snapped again, directing her helpers with the precision of a battlefield commander. She knelt beside Luffy briefly, pressing two fingers to his neck, then brushed snow from his back. "He's alive, barely. Get him warm. And take that ridiculous rope off before it freezes to him."
The gates slammed shut behind them with a deep, resonant thud that echoed through the corridors. The world outside—brutal, white, and howling—was shut away. Inside, the castle was dimly lit, the walls thick with age. The scent of medicine, smoke, and herbs lingered in the warm air. Wooden floors creaked beneath hurried footsteps, and the torches along the corridor flickered as they passed.
Inside the castle's infirmary, Kureha's hands moved swiftly over Nami, her gaze sharp and unwavering. "Severe fever. Lungs inflamed. Swelling in the glands. She's been fighting this too long." Her assistants handed her bundles of herbs, steaming water, and sealed vials. She moved like clockwork, her voice like a scalpel—precise and unyielding.
"Prepare the fever extract and keep her covered in heated blankets," she commanded. "Get the ironstone compress and start the lung vapor treatment. We'll need that rare herb from the western storeroom—now!"
Meanwhile, Luffy stirred faintly as he was laid in a side room, his body too numb to register the warmth yet. His face was bruised, lips cracked, and his breathing shallow. The assistant laid him carefully on a soft cot, gently untying the rope still clinging to his torso. Sanji tried to follow Nami into the infirmary, but the pain in his leg flared, and his knees buckled. He collapsed into a chair just outside the room, gasping.
An assistant was at his side instantly, gently wrapping his ankle and offering him a steaming towel. She pressed it to his forehead with a reassuring touch.
"Rest," she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You made it just in time."
Hours passed.
The storm outside never ceased, but inside the castle, it was quiet save for the occasional creak of wood and the rhythmic crackle of fire. Luffy awoke slowly, warmth soaking into his limbs, a stark contrast to the unforgiving cold he had braved. He was under thick blankets, the room dimly lit by lanterns and a hearth blazing nearby. His coat had been removed and folded neatly at the foot of the bed, and steam drifted from a pot of herbal brew on the table.
The room smelled faintly of cedar and medicine. Luffy blinked blearily and sat up with a groan, every muscle in his body stiff. His hand drifted to his chest where the rope had dug in earlier, and he winced at the lingering sting beneath the bandages.
Sanji snored softly in the chair next to him, arms folded and head bowed. A blanket had been draped over his shoulders, and his injured leg rested on a cushioned stool, bound with clean white bandages. Despite his rough condition, he looked peaceful in his sleep.
Luffy rubbed his eyes and whispered, "Nami…"
"She's being treated," came a soft voice from the doorway. One of Kureha's assistants stepped inside, holding a fresh towel. She smiled gently. "The doctor hasn't left her side since you arrived."
Luffy exhaled, shoulders sagging with relief. He leaned back, staring at the wooden beams above. His eyes, usually full of fire, were heavy with something more subdued—regret, perhaps.
"I thought I was going to lose her," he admitted. "For a second, I really thought she was…"
His voice trailed off. He clenched the blanket tightly in his fists, the fabric twisting in his grip. He could still feel the chill of her skin and the sound of her shallow breathing as he dragged her up the mountain.
"I won't let anything happen to her. Never again."
Above, on the upper floors of Drum Castle, the echo of footsteps bounced off the stone walls. The corridors were old and filled with shadows, lit only by torch sconces flickering against the ancient stones. Dr. Kureha stepped out of the infirmary, wiping her hands on a cloth stained faintly with herbs and ointment. Her boots clicked against the wooden floor as she walked toward the spiral staircase.
She glanced up the winding stairwell that led to the highest storeroom. "Chopper!" she called sharply, her voice echoing up into the rafters. "I need that herb now—the one from the western storeroom!"
From the rafters above the hallway, a pair of wide eyes blinked. Hidden in the shadows behind a support beam, a small reindeer with a blue nose and a pink hat peered down cautiously. His tiny antlers twitched as he held his breath.
Chopper's heart pounded in his chest. Strangers… pirates… what if they hurt the doctor? A warning Kureha had given him once flashed in his memory: "People won't understand you. Most will fear you." His ears flicked nervously. He looked down the hall toward the storeroom, then back toward the infirmary door, torn between fear and duty. His hooves trembled against the beam.
Kureha turned slightly, gaze rising to the beams. "Don't just stand there. Go!"
Startled, Chopper let out a tiny squeak, his hooves slipping slightly as he turned and bolted down the hallway. The sound of his gallop echoed off the walls—fast, skittish, and fading quickly into the upper levels.
Below, Luffy stirred again. His brow furrowed. He tilted his head slightly and listened. It was faint, but distinct.
The sound of hooves clattering on stone from above. His eyes snapped open, alert.
To be continued...
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