The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 231

This apostle's remains had only reached a certain state of equilibrium under the combined suppression of several secret rituals. However, after the core of the secret ritual was damaged and failed, its spiritual essence immediately became unstable and seemed to be in danger of becoming disordered and dissipating at any moment.

But once Xitia's tassels touched it, the spirit contained in the finger bones seemed to be soothed, returning to calm at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"There's nothing of value left here; it's time to leave."

After a thorough search of the clock room, Fran raised his hand to cover his lips, and with a slightly sleepy expression, he came to a conclusion.

Now, only a few mutated test subjects that hadn't been destroyed remained inside the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower; there was nothing left to arouse her interest. There was no point in staying any longer; she might as well go check on Rosalie's situation…

Rosalie had drunk her own blood, and under normal circumstances, she could locate herself no matter where she was.

But from a certain moment before, Fran lost the ability to sense her presence. And even Jude, the Marquis of the Moon, could not so easily block the spiritual connection brought by his blood.

To achieve this, either Rosali must be dead and her body burned, or she must be in a large secret realm where a massive amount of free-floating spiritual elements has disrupted the spiritual feedback.

Well... in any case, with Bartley and Utus around, Rosalie shouldn't die so easily, especially since the Moon Familia are known for their resilience. It's most likely the latter scenario.

Thinking of this, Fran couldn't help but sigh softly, his eyes flickering slightly as if he were pondering something.

There are still secret realms remaining within Morion... It seems that kid Yaheng didn't kill them all before.

Since Viola's passing, he has always pursued maximum efficiency, to the point of being almost pathologically demanding. He often beheads the highest-ranking evil creature hidden in the area and then leaves without leaving a trace, without lingering for even a moment.

As for whether any remaining hidden dangers existed, the chief hunter had no time to worry about that. If even the remaining forces couldn't be eliminated here, then even if he stayed, he couldn't prevent their demise.

"Dr. Fran, before we leave... could we burn down the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower? There are still a large number of mutated experimental subjects inside, and they might escape on a large scale once they are no longer restrained by the secret ritual."

After the group left the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower, Haida glanced back and then asked a question.

“That’s exactly what I was just about to say.”

"Generally speaking, the experimental subjects inside the clock tower are not capable of passing on the Heil bloodline through reproduction. After all, they don't even have primary sexual characteristics... But just in case, it's better to clean them up beforehand."

Fran had no objection to this, and even quite agreed with it.

However, more than this logically sound and well-founded explanation, she was actually just looking forward to seeing the expression on the face of the creature residing in the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower when it returned and saw the ashes and ruins...

"Please let me do it." (This appears to be a fragment of a sentence or paragraph and doesn't translate directly.)

In the field of incineration, probably none of the people present were more professional than Sigrid, and she took on the task quite naturally.

The craftswoman gently raised her arm and placed her palm on the outer wall of the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower. Immediately, an extremely terrifying heat was transmitted into the tower along her palm.

The temperature soared, a raging wind rose, and wherever the outer wall was touched, a soft, reddish heat appeared. A few breaths later, all the combustibles inside the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower began to burn fiercely, and flames almost engulfed most of the tower.

Looking at the scene before her, Xitia's expression remained unchanged, as calm and indifferent as ever. But a complex emotion, difficult to describe, was revealed in her eyes.

—It was a sense of relief and relaxation.

Flames surged forth, burning fiercely, and all the abhorrent impurities and ailments would be reduced to pure ashes in the fire. And in their wake, the light and warmth upon which humanity depends for survival would be brought forth.

At this moment, Shitia understood why humans were obsessed with flames, which were accompanied by deadly danger.

The pillars supporting the main structure of the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower were already dilapidated, and under the scorching heat of the flames summoned by Sigrid, they quickly collapsed completely. The entire building could no longer bear its own weight and crumbled into burning debris.

"Phew... Done."

Although she is a fragment of the primordial sun, Sigrid also needs to maintain the stability of her own form. Burning down the entire tower at once is not without burden for her.

"Thank you for your hard work, Sigrid."

For some reason, the craftswoman's expression after finishing her work always reminded people of a canine waiting for praise, which made Fran reach out and gently stroke the top of her head.

Perhaps because she had been constantly expending heat, her hands felt extremely hot at that moment...

With nothing left to burn where the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower had once stood, the remaining embers gradually died out. Fran initially prepared to leave, but then frowned slightly, as if something was missing.

A flash of inspiration crossed her mind, and Franco's eyes lit up slightly as she realized there was something else she hadn't done.

A moment later, the group left the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower, now reduced to ashes. In the very center of the still-warm ruins, a letter lay quietly.

[To those who reside in this place.]

[Given that the experimental subject inside the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower has become uncontrollably distorted, in order to prevent further damage, I have specially arranged to clean it up on your behalf. No thanks are necessary, but please forgive me if the methods used may cause some damage to the building.]

As for the treasures you stored in the core of the secret furnace, I have returned them to their rightful owner, and I thank you for your generosity.

—Vivian.

You can see that there is a small, soft, grayish-brown down feather attached to this letter.

-

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soup!

Chapter 124 The Glandular Prophet

After Fran and his group completely left the ruins of the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower, the place returned to a silent, deathly stillness.

The pale, cold moonlight in the sky gradually faded, and dawn was approaching.

For ordinary filth, daylight represents burning and danger. Therefore, they will avoid exposure to sunlight as much as possible.

But the situation is different for the evil creatures of the Abyss... Their true period of activity is at dawn, after the sun rises. Only then will Morion reveal its hideous form, which is not visible in the darkness of night.

The entire lost city will be completely transformed into a chaotic paradise where evil creatures from the abyss can run rampant.

However, it seems that the aura emanating from the remains of the former King Hyjal was too terrifying, causing the restless and thirsty evil creatures of the abyss around the clock tower to lie dormant, carrying a kind of instinctive fear.

"tread."

The sound of leather boots stepping over concrete gravel.

The Nightmare, dressed in a black wool coat, slowly walked toward the ruins of the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower. His originally sinister expression was now filled with disbelief and astonishment, and his eyelids even trembled slightly.

"……what happened?"

The Nightmare Guest had initially sensed that nine people had entered the Magnificent Banquet Garden, intending to use this opportunity to gather more spiritual materials for his next sacrifice. Although he encountered some obstacles and failed, those people would be unable to escape from the secret realm for the time being.

All I need to do is further seal off the secret realm from the outside, wait for them to run out of supplies, and then go and harvest the corpses.

But just as he was about to return to the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower to rest, he suddenly saw a huge cluster of flames that seemed to shoot into the sky, and the scorching heat could be felt even from half a block away.

By the time the Nightmare Guest arrived, the tower that had once stood there was nothing but ashes.

"Someone set fire to the Sleeping Sand Bell Tower? Ridiculous! That was a ruin built using the techniques of the Heir Clan... Could it be another illusion created by the Night Moth Disciples?"

"Impossible, no, it shouldn't be like this... Such efficient combustion and cooling speed, even the master craftsmen of the Sunforge Order wouldn't be this fast."

The Nightmare Guest, almost in a daze, picked up a pile of ashes, letting the lingering warmth scorch his palms.

Fine dust slipped through his fingers like quicksand, then scattered in the wind, turning into swirling smoke. The tangible sensation forced him to confront the harsh reality and accept the established order before him.

He remained silent, but there was a sense of hysteria that could erupt at any moment.

“What can I do… what else can I do? Yes, I need to check the ancient banyan seedlings and Hezmut’s remains first… if they burned the entire tower down, they might not have had time to check what’s hidden inside the secret furnace.”

Thinking of this, Nightmare Walker sprang into action, but just as he was about to search for the core of the secret furnace, he inadvertently caught sight of a small mound of rubble. A letter adorned with raven feathers rested on it.

As if possessed, he picked up the letter and began to read it.

The next moment, the veins on Nightmare Guest's forehead began to throb and bulge visibly, and his breathing, which had been nearly steady, became heavy and disordered.

“Damn thief, you vile fool, Six-Eyed Raven, you actually stole from me…”

If this guy hadn't always been in good physical condition, he might have had a heart attack by now.

After several minutes of self-adjustment, the turbulent thoughts churning in his mind gradually subsided, and he began to consider specific measures to mitigate the losses.

"Carmion, keep thinking, always, keep thinking. Abandon everything that belongs to lowly thieves. Remember, you are no longer Lyons or the Seer of Desire, but [Glandular].

"Regret and failure have permeated your entire career. Setbacks and the scorn of others are nothing new to you. Think carefully about how to make amends..."

He covered his cheeks with his hands, occasionally letting out a few soft murmurs.

"The situation is getting out of control, and we must speed things up. The White Moth of the Misty Society and that idiot named Gallonson are also secretly plotting something. This time, I have to seize the initiative."

"It just so happens that the hunter killed the gardener's remnants, and there are no more obstacles in the secret realm... Phew. Perfection is always out of reach, but as long as the upgrade is completed, even if it's incomplete, it's still a success."

"Tulips gaze, wild lilies watch. Bearing the distant hopes of the architect, I will eventually obtain everything I've always dreamed of..."

The Nightmare Guest seemed to have regained his sanity, but the way he got up and walked still resembled that of a disoriented madman.

-

“Cough…cough.”

In the secluded flower garden, Bartley coughed uncontrollably. A strong, metallic taste filled his throat, which he then forced back down.

"Damn it, is this what it feels like to be almost fifty? I'm really getting old. If I were twenty years younger, this kind of injury would have healed after a while..."

The damage inflicted by the Gardener was not directly physical, but rather a weakening of her spirit and soul. While she could endure it during the heat of battle, once she entered a state of calm rest, that deep-seated weakness would surge violently back.

Bartley slowly adjusted his breathing, and at the same time took out some bottles and jars from his emergency medicine bag and began to disinfect the wounds on his arms and chest.

He first applied iodine tincture to the not-too-deep wound, waited about a minute, and then rinsed it off with alcohol. His technique was swift and rough, making the whole scene look extremely painful.

Because of his arm injury, Bartley could not perform the stitches alone. So Rosalie picked up a silver needle and began to help him re-stitch the deeper lacerations on his body.

Rosalie's technique was slightly clumsy, so she wasn't very fast. However, she adapted very well to bloody scenes and became familiar with them very quickly.

"Don't worry about the needle going astray, Miss Rosalie. As long as the wound closes, that's all that matters. No matter how it's stitched, Ms. Marian will be able to remove the stitches beautifully when we get back to the medical ward. At worst, you'll get a scolding."

The pain of the needle piercing his flesh was constantly stimulating Bartley's nerves, but he did not cry out. He just silently endured it, without even a tremor.

"Okay, I'm trying..."

Rosalie, who was stitching up her wound, couldn't help but feel a little fortunate. Fortunately, the side effects of [S-912. Banquet Ring] had brought about severe anorexia, otherwise the bloody scene in front of her would probably have awakened her appetite.

"Be careful, Nightmare might still be nearby. That guy is just like the carrion bird, he likes to pick off the enemy when they least expect it. Come to think of it, that's definitely Six-Eyed Raven's style."

Although he was receiving stitches, Bartley still had the energy to keep watch on his surroundings and prevent any possible sudden attacks.

"If that guy shows up again, I'll make sure he stays here permanently."

The inchworm murmured a slightly somber murmur.

At this moment, he had already set up more than one illusory image of [Chasing Bewitching Light] around him. He had also placed steel ball tripwires, which would be triggered as soon as someone got close. Although these measures alone might not be enough to truly cripple Nightmare, as long as he could keep him occupied and suppressed, Professor Utus would have an opportunity to make his move.

Besides his fondness for using cunning tricks, holding grudges is also a characteristic of Moth's disciple, Part Two. …、＠￡lin◆伍↑）

Inchworm is a specialist in esoteric arts within the Misty Society, so he's not keen on spending a lot of time and energy weaving deceptions. However, it seems that this very trait makes him extremely vengeful…

"He probably won't show up again."

At this moment, Utus looked grave, and a bad guess kept popping into his mind.

The professor in the white cup noticed the Nightmare Guest's expression as he left. Besides a careful assessment of the existing power of both sides, there was also a hint of smug mockery, as if victory was already assured.

That was the look in his eyes when he looked at the corpse.

But Nightmare was clearly just a newly promoted Ravenfeather High Priest. Even with Bartley injured and his combat abilities greatly diminished, his own squad possessed the power to counter him.

"If I'm not mistaken, he's probably preparing some kind of relic or forbidden ritual in an attempt to annihilate us all. Or perhaps he's planning to trap us all inside this flower garden secret realm."

Although Utus was worried about this, all he could do now was wait for Bartley to recover a little before trying to break through the secret realm.

Just then, the inchworm suddenly frowned, and a look of confusion appeared in its eyes.

"Something is wrong."

"The illusions I created on the periphery are being quickly cleared away, and that guy didn't trigger any tripwires. Could it be that the Nightmare Guest has already figured out the weakness of the arcane illusion technique after only seeing it once?"

Just as he was being wary of every shadow around him, he saw a group of people walking towards him without any attempt to conceal their presence.

The leader, dressed in a white doctor's coat, was slender and well-proportioned, with amber eyes that held a faint, enigmatic smile... It was Fran.

"The illusion is very realistic. Although it has the flaw of not having a shadow, the tripwires placed around it make up for this. If it were me, I would probably collect some corpses of evil creatures from the Abyss and hide the detonators and tripwires inside."

"Sometimes, a completely realistic design can be more deceptive than a virtual one."

Upon seeing the visitor, the inchworm felt an inexplicable sense of relief, and its previous depression and worries seemed to dissipate at that moment.

“I understand, Ms. Fran. I will try the solution you mentioned later.”

He had initially intended to say "the Hermit Lady," but then he saw Heda behind Fran. Her dark, heavy leather nun's robes were so striking that it was hard not to notice her.

Considering that the Hermit Lady was a physician in the Order of the Hunters, the Inchworm naturally and nimbly changed its story.

"Gentlemen, how was the harvest?"

Fran's gaze shifted to Utus, who was slightly relieved.

"So far, we haven't made any particularly significant discoveries. Shortly after arriving at Port Morion, we entered the secret realm and encountered a woman who called herself 'The Gardener.' If I'm not mistaken, she's probably some kind of 'remnant' of the apostles."

After a brief exchange of glances, he began to recount the details of his trip.