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Noticing his silence, Terence continued to recount his meeting with the messenger of the Son of the Tree of Beards.
"Grantham agreed to the Son of the Tree's proposal, believing the risks were within acceptable limits. Of course... all of this was contingent on them offering a sufficient price."
He also thought Grantham's decision was too risky, but the guy had far more foresight and experience than most people, and his decisions were usually based on deep considerations.
Just like Grantham told everyone in the Institute during the Great Plague, "The ultimate mission of the species is always to continue," and then came up with an evacuation plan, preparing to start the escape. At that time, Terrence, who was still middle-aged, called him a "coward," to which he just laughed it off.
Who could have imagined that, after most of the Order had left Norrington, he would go alone to confront that mountain-like embodiment of plague?
"No need to worry too much. Although that guy likes to do dangerous things, he never passes the risk down to others. On the contrary, he prefers to bear these things alone..."
Terence put down the earrings that had been re-etched and took off the monoculars as well.
"Perfect timing, your teaching assistant assessment is scheduled for that ruin, let's go together then."
"This……"
"Professor Terence, are the usual history department teaching assistant assessments all about excavating sanctuary-level ruins like this? Is my difficulty a bit unusual...?"
Child squinted, and for a moment he couldn't help but sigh at his own ill-fated life.
This made it hard for him not to recall Dr. Fran's dream interpretation, that ominous yet imposing Death card.
End, stagnation, damage, irreversible events—no matter the interpretation of the cards, they are unsettling.
However… although he enjoys divination, he is not deterred by it. Compared to the elusive concept of fate, the White Cup Debunker believes more in materialism.
After clearing his mind of the jumbled thoughts, Child began to focus intently on writing the maintenance log.
【S-0910. The Hand That Attends the Banquet】
[Source: Attilium Monroe Dynasty Ancient Ruins]
Status: Fixed.
[Relic Description: This relic is shaped like a Monroe noble's bracelet, made of gold, and equipped with complete gauntlets. The gauntlets cover the back of the hand and fingers, with fingertips shaped like falcon claws. The wearer can use any Lesser Second-Class Mystic Art of the Crimson Grail, at the cost of developing a cannibalistic urge.]
Uncle [Maintenance Sunday: A status check is performed once every calendar month. The surface is wiped strictly in the order of bone meal, grease, and blood. Residue will be absorbed within one minute. This procedure is named 'Feeding'.]
[Note: If any abnormal bleeding is found on this item, please do not wear it anymore. Clean up any bloodstains immediately and leave it in a sterile environment for at least 48 hours.]
Without a doubt, the log describes the relic that Terence had previously sealed away.
樲——
No. 13, North District, Fog Street Clinic.
Shanfran, dressed in a thin bear-patterned pajama, lay on a soft plush bed, reflecting on the progress of his research over the past few days.
"The difficulty of the Forbidden Alchemy is indeed considerable, and even with the help of Sigrid and the Philosopher's Stone, it is difficult to make further progress."
Sigrid is a product of the "Final Program," and Fran's current technology is not yet able to fully analyze its alchemical principles.
Although she had previously crafted a Gate of Nothingness within her own body to seal the Corona Melting, that was largely due to her understanding of the universe and the essence of the world…
"Perhaps I was too engrossed in studying profound subjects and neglected other aspects of alchemy, such as bio-alchemy..."
Speaking of this, she couldn't help but think of the alchemist named Commons.
After all, his experiment used people and dogs as subjects, with very high standards of characteristics and features. And... if that guy had actually used Haida as a subject back then, it might have actually worked.
Haida has the blood of Meredith's blue wolf flowing through her body, so theoretically she should be more compatible with canines and have less rejection reaction... But even so, her survival rate would not be higher than 15%.
It's such a waste of resources; if it were me, I'd say it's 80-90% the same...
Putting aside the stereotype of it being perverse, bio-alchemy is indeed a very interesting subject. After a little thought, Fran decided to make it his new research topic for the near future.
As for the specific target product... it's still in the planning stage.
A wave of drowsiness crept in, like silken threads; it was time to prepare for bedtime reading. In fact, this was a habit Fran had developed after the Great Plague, a way to mend his missing memories.
"despair."
Fran reached out and gently pressed the bedside lamp, and a clear, soft light shone through.
She raised her hand, opened the ancient and weighty "Compendium of a Thousand Teachings," and leisurely began to read it under the dim light.
Hunting Secrets, White Cup, Cast Sun, Lamp Moth.
The names of the four orthodox Christians have been passed down for centuries and seem to have become common knowledge. However, in reality, none of their religious orders recognize the term "orthodox Christianity."
In older accounts, the various sects shared a mutual "identity." Even if their positions differed, their ideologies differed, and their paths of pursuit were vastly different... at least they all believed in the same true deity.
The true God will not fall into evil godhood simply because of being stigmatized, because the former has undergone genuine transformation and ascension, while the latter is merely an evil entity falsely claiming the name of a god. There is a fundamental difference between the two.
However... from a certain era onwards, some indescribable "influence" permeated those towering celestial colossi.
Even though those who come after them are still called by the previous names, still hold the previous authority, and still govern the previous rules, a certain change has already occurred.
In the past, there was a clear hierarchy and order among the altar priests, the chief priests, servants, and apostles, according to the spiritual order. But now, the path to ascension has been confused by falsehoods and delusions.
What drove all this was madness, pollution, or simply "chaos"?
The abyss rises and falls beneath the darkness of the icy ocean, like the breath of a heartbeat.
They indulged in a lavish feast, their blood and bones forming a pool of wine, reveling in unrestrained revelry.
The seal stone remained silent and still, but eyes grew out of its shadow.
The six-eyed raven lost its brightest pearl and wept blood day and night.
Within the never-healing scarlet wound of the Mother Ant, deep black worms seem to writhe and churn. Perhaps, she is no longer herself.
It was from this point that the deities who governed order drew their swords and embarked on an eternal hunt to slaughter their own kind—the "War of Death."
He later became known as the "God of Hunting Gods".
……
It turns out that reading obscure myths before bed can indeed help you fall asleep.
At some point, the "Thousand Teachings Return to the Classics" had been closed and placed beside the pillow, with only Fran's even and gentle breathing remaining in the room.
-
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Big blunder! I lost 2k words of my manuscript because of a pasting error, forced me to work all night, and got so frustrated with that word processing software that I almost fainted.
Chapter Eight: Fear of All Things
The next day, early in the morning.
As the melodious sound of the Pokémon flute rang out, a pair of amber eyes slowly opened and closed.
Fran raised her hand and lifted the soft, still-warm comforter, her eyes filled with a soft, languid look. She stared blankly for a moment, seemingly still savoring the exquisite feel of Luyara's fur in her dream from the previous night.
This mythical creature, which inexplicably wandered into Fog Street, seems to have made it its sanctuary. Aside from necessary foraging, Luara hides in Fran's dreams.
She could improve the mental state of those falling asleep to some extent through dreams, which to some extent mitigated the mental damage Fran suffered during his annual house calls. Not everyone can manage to integrate twenty years of pent-up madness into their mind without going insane... (Sound of a dream)
Even if one doesn't go mad, it doesn't mean there won't be other costs. (Strange)
Fran yawned, rolled out of bed, and went into the bathroom. (Six)
The sound of the shower water dripping then began.
After a short while, she finished washing up for the day, dried her pale white hair, and put on her signature white doctor's coat.
Fran was in such a hurry today that he didn't even wear shoes, leaving a trail of damp, misty footprints on the wooden floor of his bedroom.
As usual, she would call Sigrid to help her comb her hair at this time, tidying up the braids that had inexplicably become tangled after she slept.
But today's situation is a little different... The monthly outpatient schedule for January has just been triggered. Although there's still plenty of time, contacting patients earlier will improve the completion rate. (liu)
She had to leave immediately.
[Dear Dr. Fran, the January monthly outpatient rounds have been triggered. The patient is Elsa Lois, a girl from a collateral branch of the Lois family, with a preliminary diagnosis of "panphobia" (fear of everything). She is not currently in life-threatening danger, but please contact her today.]
The Lois family rose to prominence through the technological revolution sparked by the White Cup Order, accumulating substantial wealth and prestige over nearly fifty years.
Although they were sometimes called "nouveau riche" by the truly old clans, they were still considered celebrities in Norrington.
When clan groups acquire vast social resources, they often develop unusual pursuits: superhuman powers, endless life, and even the ability to probe the flow of fate…
Although mystical knowledge has an extremely high talent threshold and is controlled by various cults, there are always more solutions than problems. It's not only through the study of esoteric arts that one can reach the extraordinary.
Relics, alchemy, rituals, and even mating with other species.
As long as one doesn't care about touching taboos or losing humanity... "Extraordinary" is not far away.
Fran gently stroked the brass handle and pushed open the door to his bedroom.
Sigrid was already standing by the corridor at some point. She turned her head and slightly opened her molten gold eyes, somewhat surprised that the doctor was up on time today.
Through her months in office, Sigrid has gained a fairly deep understanding of the doctor's habits.
Fran has a healthy sleep schedule when she's not doing research; she goes to bed early, wakes up early, and eats three meals a day regularly. But she usually stays in bed for several tens of minutes after being woken up by her alarm clock, and then calls me in to help her tidy up her easily disheveled braids.
And Dr. Fran's punctual dressing and departure from the bedroom... he must have something important to do.
Thinking of this, Sigrid asked Fran about her schedule for the day.
"Dr. Fran, are you getting ready to make a house call?"
“That’s right, today’s patient is at the Lois family mansion; we might have to infiltrate.”
Fran nodded, confirming her assumption.
He then took two white bread sandwiches with bacon slices from the built-in freezer next to him and casually stuffed one of them into the maid's mouth.
Although I'm in a bit of a rush, I can't skip breakfast.
"If Sigrid wants to come with me, you might have to make do with something... Are you prepared for that?"
"No, that won't do."
Sigrid readily agreed, but with a sandwich in her mouth, her voice was somewhat muffled.
The Foggy Street Clinic boasts a vast collection of books and artifacts that shouldn't exist in this era, so Sigrid never feels bored even if she stays there.
However, Dr. Fran was clearly quite concerned about the maid's mental state and would often take her out with him.
After receiving Sigrid's permission, Fran picked up his medicine box, turned the sign on the door to "Closed," and then walked out of the clinic.
The maid followed closely behind, their footsteps fading as their figures quickly disappeared into the greyish-white sea of mist. Part Two
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Lois House, located near No. 11 South District.
This is an estate near the city's edge, so there are no street divisions. The estate is not large, and it doesn't have expensive or ornate decorations like fountains or statues, but the flowers next to the mansion are quite exquisitely trimmed.
After all, the owner here, "Eugene Lois," is only a member of a collateral branch of the family, and the assets he holds are not of the high-profit type, unlike the booming and lucrative shipbuilding or machinery industries.
For his carriage rental companies, it has been extremely difficult to maintain any losses in recent years.
And in the past few months, something else has happened that has greatly troubled Eugene. It concerns his daughter, Elsa, who is studying at Central Norrington University.
The child went missing... Although he was extremely lucky to be rescued and not harmed, he was left with very serious psychological trauma.
Originally a natural history major who loved all things unknown, she has now become gloomy and withdrawn, no longer even having the courage to step out of her house. Every shadow on the street corner, every glance from a passerby, triggers a terrifying response from the depths of her heart.
Out of love for his daughter, Eugene had no choice but to arrange for her to take a half-year leave of absence from school, hoping that time would heal her psychological trauma.
Of course, the refutationists from the White Cup also provided psychological counseling, which had some effect... but only helped Elsa go from being completely withdrawn to being able to communicate with people with difficulty.
"Snap, snap."
Eugene was somewhat annoyed as he trimmed the yellow leaves of the tulips in the garden, his furrowed brow furrowed with worry.
In the mansion.
Elsa, dressed in a thin, off-white nightgown, sat curled up on the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her gaze was fixed on the empty wall, as if she were afraid something might emerge from its shadow.
"call……"
She was fighting off the growing fear in her mind.
Elsa dared not wrap herself in the blankets, for it would remind her of the feeling of being trapped in a warm, fleshy bed. Soft and comforting, it was as if she had returned to the womb at the moment of her birth, enveloped in boundless peace of mind.
What is she afraid of?
She was afraid of becoming completely lost in those pleasurable memories...
After undergoing basic psychotherapy with the White Cup Debunkers, Elsa has gradually forgotten what happened in the birthday banquet hall. Her memory stops at the day before she was abducted into the sewers.
I had just attended a secret gathering in the West District to share esoteric knowledge, and on my way back, a terrifying figure dressed in a red leather robe appeared...