The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 144

The gushing blood itself traced a complex and obscure ritual array on the ground.

He will use his own flesh and soul as a key to revive all the timeless aphids in this place.

The skeletons, now just skeletons, rose again, their flesh and skin formed by the roots of the banyan tree, making them look exactly like the banyan trees outside the library.

Haida plunged into the core layer beneath the crack, using her exceptional mobility to dart rapidly through the mimicry swarm.

Her black nun's robes billowed in the dust and smoke, and while wielding her sword to slay the mimics, she even had one hand free to carry Albert.

Nigel's expression was one of disgust and contempt as he watched the approaching funeral maids.

"Before being given the name of time, the ancient banyan tree's guiding principle was 'prosperity.' To nourish the parasites on its body, its vitality was almost inexhaustible..."

“These mimics… cannot be killed off by the swords of mortals.”

"is it?"

Haida's voice was deep, resolute, and cold.

That being said, surrounded by a massive number of mimics, her speed of progress did indeed gradually begin to slow down.

Surrounded by enemies, the hilt of the power sword "Nirvana" became hot, and the metallic hum was loud and intense.

Before entering the core layer, Fran placed a small, rose-red fruit into her mouth. Judging from its color and appearance, it seemed to be an offering from the old sanctuary... "Shadow of the Future".

Dr. Fran said... its effect seems to be able to summon one's future self? (Looking for...)

As Haida chewed and swallowed the image of the future from her mouth, a cold, profound aura rose from nowhere.

Nigel's gaze shifted from initial disdain to astonishment in an instant. The next moment, he saw a woman dressed in jet-black hunting attire materialize from her illusory form.

The man wore a tricorn hat with an iris pinned to it, and in his hand was a massive scythe forged from shadow.

The decapitated throne, and that leather tricorn hat... Papa

For no apparent reason, Nigel felt a chill creep into his chest, as if a venomous snake had bitten his heart.

Damn it, is this nun the future "Funeral Minister" of the Hunters?

-

-6

Soup! Fried dough twists

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Disobeying the Prelude to the Dust

Looking at her familiar yet unfamiliar self in front of her, Haida felt a sense of disorientation for no apparent reason.

The newcomer is not the "self" in the true sense of the future, but rather the last Lord of Funerals in Norlington in the future.

Upon closer inspection, one can even see the delicate black seam on her fair neck.

Seemingly noticing that Haida was looking at him, the future funeral minister lowered his eyes slightly and nodded to her.

The next moment, she leaped towards Nigel, who was heavily protected by the Ficus Beard mimicry. Her figure was ethereal and illusory, like a shadow that floated with the candlelight.

Under the reaping of the decapitation throne, countless heads wrapped in banyan tendrils were severed in response, and the massive number of mimics were completely deprived of their lives before they even had a chance to resist.

One by one, heads crashed to the ground with a dull thud.

It's as if the harvest season has arrived, and the fruits are ripe and falling from the trees...

"The life force vanished without warning. There's no mistake, it's that relic, the scythe..."

Nigel's face was pale, and his fingers trembled slightly.

Even he himself did not realize that his fear had already manifested physically.

Although Suki no Son has lived in seclusion for many years and is detached from worldly affairs, he is somewhat aware of the chief hunter's infamous reputation.

Priests, heirs, and divine favored beings—no matter how noble their status, they should pray that they do not become their target.

The Hidden Chronicles of the Sons of the Tree of Truth record that the remains of an ancient dragon lie buried beneath Norrington. And that was the work of a chief hunter from the Lost Age of the Mysteries.

These madmen would even kill a dragon if their own precepts were violated...

"Hunter, stop!"

As the approaching "Hyda" drew ever closer, Nigel let out a deep, somber shout.

"The sacrificial ritual has begun, and the resurgence of the Time Aphid is irreversible. You are now merely a phantom projected from the future; once the effects of the Ancient Banyan Fruit wear off, you will perish completely!"

"Don't you want to become a 'real' being? I can sign a contract with you right now, and when everything settles down, you will receive half of the authority of this order!"

Faced with the bargaining chips he offered, the funeral director merely raised a finger to lower the brim of his tricorn hat, without replying.

Her glossy lips didn't curve into a smile, but seemed to carry a faint hint of mockery.

In the future, Haida's form melted away.

It was as if it had been submerged in the shadow of darkness, vanishing into thin air.

At the same time, Heda emerged from the shadows behind Nigel. She hooked the massive decapitation throne around his neck and cleanly severed his head.

The whole process was smooth and natural, and everything fell into place naturally.

“You bunch of blasphemers, madmen, fools…”

A massive amount of life force surged forth, but it was completely unable to fill the enormous hole in his neck. The Time Aphid's time-manipulation ability also seemed to have lost its effect; no matter how much time was rewound, it could not reach the moment his head was severed.

Meanwhile, Heda took advantage of the situation to approach Nigel, raised her power sword "Nirvana" and struck, pinning the rolling head to the ground.

Soon the flesh on the face of the son of the tree began to wither and shrink, eventually dissolving into mud.

Although Nigel died, he had achieved his purpose as a sacrifice...

The ritual array drawn on the ground with blood began to activate, and time itself seemed to begin to become unstable. Light and shadow from the past flickered erratically, intertwining past prosperity with present decay.

"The first type of ritual is called 'Return to the Source'. This ritual will create a chain reaction. As more Time Aphids are resurrected, the effect of the ritual array will be amplified accordingly... eventually leading to an exponential expansion trend."

Albert had been carried all the way here, and before he could even feel dizzy, he forced himself to focus and began to examine the ritual prayers on the ground.

Is there a way to interrupt the process?

Haida looked at Albert and asked him if he had any solutions.

“If I could access the ancient banyan tree’s veins… perhaps I could try to disrupt this ritual array. But now I’m on the opposite side of it, and I’m afraid I won’t be accepted.”

"It's alright, just do your best."

Fran walked lightly across the tomb-like core layer and arrived at the ritual array.

"……it is good."

Albert nodded, then placed his palm in the center of the ritual array on the ground. The banyan veins on the ground aggressively burrowed into the skin of his palm, coursing through his flesh.

"He is refusing my access."

In addition to being ostracized by the Rongxu Network, he also felt a powerful and strange spirit interfering with him.

It was both guidance and whisper, stirring a desire from the depths of their hearts to offer themselves as a sacrifice to hasten the ritual.

Heda, from the future, raised her decapitation throne, which hovered steadily and precisely around Albert's neck. If this son of the Susan loses his sense of self, she will immediately behead him.

The threat of death was imminent, but Albert seemed unconcerned.

At this moment, he devoted himself entirely to the Rongxu Network, resisting the increasingly intense mental influence.

Consciousness is like a solitary candle flame, swaying and flickering in the howling, surging wind, seemingly on the verge of being extinguished at any moment.

"Some things can't be done by one person alone. Perhaps... you need the help of some seniors."

Fran picked up the brass pocket watch, his slender index finger slightly bent and extended.

As she lightly tapped the watch cover with her finger, a crisp metallic sound rang out.

Upon hearing the tapping of the brass pocket watch, Albert felt a tremor run through his very being.

The once dark and silent tomb suddenly became noisy, and countless figures of the ancestors of the Xushu clan appeared around him in a chaotic manner.

"That is……"

Albert's voice was slightly dazed, as if he had forgotten the deep pain in his palm.

Those were remnants of spirits that should have vanished completely, but now, due to the rewind of time, they have been re-formed. They were the sons of the Xushu tree who once stood here, burdened with the long-cherished wish of defying the ancient banyan tree, and turned into withered bones.

The banyan tree possessed their bodies, transforming them into pseudo-evil offspring, but their spirits still remembered the unfinished business of their previous lives.

Before today, Albert had never imagined that he would one day be among the ancestors of the Son of the Tree.

He never imagined that what he was about to do would be blasphemy... but at this moment he did not feel confused, his thoughts became incredibly clear.

The remnant spirit's consciousness and obsession merged into his mind, along with the courage to rebel against the deity he worshipped.

Sever ties with the past, sever ties with faith, sever everything about being the son of Suju...

With a sudden surge of spirituality, Albert forcibly established a connection with the veins on the ground.

In a daze, he heard the voices of the ancestors in his ears.

It sounded like a murmur, yet also like a roar. The call, worn and faded by millennia of time, still resonated powerfully.

“My Lord, Your long-cherished wish has gone mad. We are willing to offer our lives for you, but... we cannot watch you trample on the doctrines you have set and lead this era to its end.”

"Excuse me for calling you by your name... Ancient Banyan, please be buried here with us."

As the fragmented voice of that ancestor gradually faded away, the resurrection ritual of the core layer also began to crumble.

The ancient banyan tree's anger was reflected in the wildly waving plant branches on the ground, which surged upwards along blood vessels and muscles, seemingly about to burrow into the body through the skin of the arms.

"Click." Haida reached out and pinched his upper arm.

She carefully maintained her pressure, preventing the banyan branch from further penetrating his flesh while avoiding crushing his arm bone.

"How long will it take to completely end the ritual?"

"Ten seconds."

Albert's voice, though strained, carried a resolute tone.

At this moment, his spirituality was being consumed rapidly by the mutual attrition of the ritual, but the remnants of the Sons of the Tree were also pouring in in sync to maintain the entire termination process.

After ten breaths, as the resurrection ritual completely shattered, the chaotic flow of time around them stabilized again.

"Finally, the tragedy of Suki no Ko will never be repeated..."

The murmurs of the ancients lingered in his ears, and Albert looked behind him. The fading remnants of the ancient spirits glanced at him from afar, their gaze deep and serene, as if spanning millennia.

“Child, thank you for choosing to defy His will with us. At this moment, our blasphemy is irreversible, with no room for turning back. Perhaps Gu Rong had his reasons for making this choice, and perhaps our decision was not wise…”

"But Suki no Son did not regret it."

"In the end, only time can judge right and wrong..."

The remnant spirit, having lost the protection of the resurrection ritual, quickly transformed into pure spirituality and vanished completely.

A great deal of spiritual energy escaped from the ritual array, staining the constantly twisting plant veins on the ground.

As a result, countless clusters of crimson tubular flowers and leaves bloom from the buds, their vibrant colors almost covering the entire core layer.

"This is... a banyan tree flower?"

Heda's futuristic phantom picked up one of the flowers, its dazzling camel-red corolla reflected in her eyes.

She had been keeping Norrington company in darkness for countless years, and hadn't seen such vibrant flowers in a long time. Although she had returned to the material world after Fran's quarterly house call, she was too busy to have any leisure time to rest.

"Do not."

Albert shook his head, denying her claim.

Although the son of Suki had beads of sweat on his forehead and his face was extremely pale, he did not show any signs of weakness.

The flowers of the banyan tree are hidden inside its fruit and cannot be seen. This is the flower of the mistletoe.

Zero: "Actually, Nigel wasn't wrong. Whether it's the Son of the Tree of Life, the Aphid of Time, or these flowers... they're all just parasites on Him."

As the intense spiritual energy faded from Albert's consciousness, the sharp pain in his arm became more pronounced.

His expression was listless and dazed, while the banyan branch in his hand continued to throb wildly, almost breaking free from Haida's grasp.

The phantom of the future, with her chestnut-brown eyes, flickered slightly. She raised the throne of execution and cleanly and efficiently severed the entire, wood-like part of her arm.

“Phew…Thank you so much, Sister Haida.”

Albert's face twisted slightly.

But he didn't feel much pain; the incision was just cold, as if this part of the limb didn't belong to him.