The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 235

"To be responsible, Ms. Gardener's case is an isolated one. Becoming an apostle does weaken certain parts of one's personality structure, but it does not completely erase them. For example, Yaheng's paranoia remains unchanged, and may even be further amplified."

"In most cases, entering the sixth level simply means abandoning the mortal body. The mind does not undergo a fundamental change."

Her tone was confident and familiar, even as if she knew it all by heart, like a seasoned firsthand witness.

"Perhaps there's some flaw in Karmion's ascension ceremony, or maybe the [Flower of Creation] he worships bestowed some kind of special 'favor' upon him. But in any case, his form after ascension is different from that of ordinary apostles."

"Haida, you've reminded me. Maybe this can have some effect on his mind. Let me think carefully about how to trick him..."

After saying that, Fran began to think about the question quite seriously.

Although Haida couldn't see the doctor's facial expression behind her at this moment, and wasn't quite sure what the word "deceive" meant, she could roughly imagine her blinking and plotting a wicked scheme...

-

Back at the banquet hall atop the Cloud Path Peak.

Under Fran's few casually provocative words, Carmelm was plunged into unprecedented self-doubt.

Previously, he had never believed that his beliefs were flawed. The fact that the archsorcerer Gloria, who disagreed with him, and a series of ancient legends from lost times had perished, while he himself had survived, didn't that prove his judgment?

But now, Karmion has to think about this from another perspective...

Are all my near-successes and near-failures due to the manipulation of the gods I worship? Is my struggle and aspirations over a thousand years merely a clown's solo dance as a puppet on a string?

He was extremely frustrated for a moment, clenching his fists and slamming them on the banquet table in a fit of rage. Then, he was suddenly discouraged and let out a frantic, low growl-like sob.

Watching Karmion's near-out-of-control madness, Haida narrowed her grey-chestnut eyes and looked at Fran beside her. At that moment, the doctor was gently stroking his lower lip, watching the "performance" in the banquet hall with great interest.

It's hard to believe that her incredibly persuasive and targeted remarks were only something she came up with in a few minutes...

Come to think of it, Dr. Fran always seems to be able to use similar arguments to make his formidable enemies fall into self-doubt.

Of course, whether this approach truly helps stabilize the situation remains to be seen. This is because, after going through a process from despondency to hysteria, the opposing side typically begins a desperate, self-destructive struggle, launching a fierce counterattack.

Perhaps this doctor didn't really hope to solve the problem with just a few words; she simply enjoyed the feeling of gradually eroding and destroying the other person's psychological defenses...

“Unknown lady, perhaps you are right. I am but a plaything created at will by the creator of flowers, bound by fate, unable to stop my endless wandering.”

After a moment, Karmion seemed to regain his composure, but his voice became increasingly hoarse as he spoke.

Everyone considered him a conceited madman, but precisely because he was never understood, he was able to dissect himself from a solitary and detached perspective, examining any potential fallacies.

"But I have already swallowed the legacy of my 'old self,' and all of this is beyond my control, and cannot be stopped. It is beyond my control, beyond my control..."

"Whether it is right or wrong, true or false... let the final facts judge it all."

Karmion's body began to dissolve.

Flesh and hair transformed into a sticky liquid that slowly flowed, while countless intertwined flower branches sprouted from the exposed pale bones. These were the plump flower buds he had eaten in the banquet hall, their rich spiritual energy surging forth, causing the entire secret realm to begin to distort.

"It tastes so sweet."

Fran pursed his lips slightly and stuck out his tongue.

The lingering fragrance of flowers in the air was almost tangible, so much so that breathing it felt unpleasantly dense. It was like being force-fed intensely sweet nectar down the throat and into the lungs, followed by a surge of sweetness that went straight to the brain.

Haida held her breath at that moment.

Based on the original concentration of the Desire Flower aura, she could still slightly resist the Winter Spirit Essence of the Funeral Maid through her own physical constitution. But now, even she could not avoid having her cheeks stained crimson, and her breathing became rapid and short.

The invasion of cyclophosphamide is no longer limited to the respiratory tract or mucous membranes; now it can directly penetrate the body through the skin. No, even just the act of "seeing" it can cause a burning sensation deep within the bones.

The power of the nearby apostles was tearing the entire secret realm apart wildly. Not only the banquet hall on the summit, but even others in the outer flower gardens felt this undeniable disturbance.

"This is quite a commotion. I wonder if 'I' will be able to achieve another brief success this time?"

The gardener in the small courtyard yawned and casually tidied his nails, completely oblivious to the fact that his own form was rapidly dissipating and withering away.

Everything in the Huayan Flower Garden served as nourishment for this ascension ceremony, including herself. But she had already accepted her fate of annihilation, or perhaps... she had already died in a far more ancient past.

"This is truly... a grand scene. I thought such sights only happened in ancient epics..."

The inchworm could hardly contain its excitement; even the fingers that were straightening the mirror above its nose trembled slightly.

Before meeting the Hermit Lady, he had never imagined he would witness the ascension of an apostle. But now he not only saw it, but also knew he would soon witness her fall.

"Tsk, the worst-case scenario still happened."

Bartley curled his lip, his expression visibly showing a hint of impatience.

As a hunter, he was accustomed to eliminating threats before they fully materialized, never waiting until they were fully formed. Not everyone is a chief hunter, capable of crushing a formidable enemy head-on when it is at its strongest.

When faced with an opponent they cannot defeat, Bartley usually follows the old hunter tradition of "disengaging from contact" to avoid unnecessary sacrifices and preserve their strength.

This guy doesn't value his life; he even has some self-destructive tendencies. But instead of wasting his life on avoidable disasters, why not save it for a more valuable moment?

As the flowerbed ground began to crack and crumble, the surrounding scenery began to change drastically. Ruins and dust-covered city ruins gradually emerged, and this secret realm... was about to collapse completely.

"Ah—" Si

Seeing a blinding white beam of light pierce down from the shattered sky above the secret realm, Rosalie screamed inconsolably. (8)

Yes, it is now daytime.

The dawn's light pierced through the dust and haze, illuminating almost every dark corner of Morion Street. Rosalie's fear of sunlight ran deep in her blood; even a glimpse of it sent a chill down her spine.

Humans rarely connect their own death directly to a specific object, but the Moon's Kin is different. For them, the sun's warm glow is equivalent to death itself.

She had to find shelter from the sunlight before suffering irreversible, deep burns… but how easy was that? Ordinary moon spirits, once exposed to the sun's rays, would go from perfectly intact to utterly reduced to ashes in the blink of an eye. (Part Three)

"Quickly, crouch down!" Zero

A sharp shout rang out, followed by a reassuring shadow. (Wu)

Vivian reacted extremely quickly. She was the first to realize the potential impact of the external environment on Rosalie, and she rushed to her side as fast as she could, taking off her agent's trench coat and pulling her inside.

"Huh...huh..."

This was the first time Rosalie had been so directly exposed to sunlight. The fear of being reduced to ashes and the relief of surviving were intertwined, causing her to gasp for breath and almost burst into tears.

In fact, many members of the Moon's Clan shed tears in their final moments facing the sun. It is not out of weakness or fear, but rather a biological instinct.

"Miss Rosalie, are you hurt?"

Vivian lowered her head slightly, asking Rosalie, who was huddled inside the hem of her trench coat, about her current condition. Her shadow manipulation technique was now nearly complete, allowing her to control the shadows around her to some extent and block out the sunlight.

Otherwise, her thin clothing alone would not be enough to completely block the light from passing through.

Unexpectedly, the Shadow Control Technique would be used for the first time in such a situation... Thinking of this, Vivian couldn't help but sigh.

"Thank you... I'm fine."

Rosalie let out a long, deep sigh and gradually regained her composure.

Because Vivian's agent trench coat was on the larger side, the two didn't have to be too close to each other. But just now, she still felt as if she had been tightly embraced around the waist, like a drowning person desperately grasping at a straw.

Miss Rosalie is incredibly strong; no wonder she's a member of the Moon Familia. Ugh, for a moment I felt like my ribs were about to break…

"There's a large shadow in the alleyway at the side corner. Let's move Miss Rosalie there first."

Professor Utus breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing that Vivian had instructed Rosalie to avoid exposure to sunlight.

He had noticed the sunlight might be affecting Rosalie, but just as he was preparing to take emergency measures, Vivian rushed over. At least no serious consequences occurred…

"Ah."

Vivian responded and then led Rosalie into the still intact dark alley.

Rosalie remained silent for a long time, nestled quietly in the shadow created by Vivian. Everyone else assumed that this member of the Moon's Familia was still reeling from the near-incineration by the sunlight.

Only she herself knew... that wasn't the case.

Just moments before Vivian arrived, Rosalie clearly felt a ray of sunlight fall on her arms and neck. The feeling was warm and gentle, filled with an intoxicating heat.

But now, there are no permanent sunburn marks on the skin of her arms and neck... This gives rise to a sense of bewilderment.

……

As the secret garden completely collapsed and shattered, Fran and Haida reappeared before the group.

In addition, there is a brand new glandular "gardener".

Compared to the two remains that had previously appeared in the Huayan Flower Garden, she was more complete, more beautiful, and more robust. Wild lilies and tulip buds clung to her arms and neck like exquisitely crafted ornaments.

She remained silent, her eyes calmly sweeping over everyone.

Fran simply rubbed her eyes, then returned the gaze indifferently. The crimson in her pupils had vanished, and the wisp of spirituality originating from Karmion had been absorbed by the gardener along with the collapse of the secret realm.

The gardener's attitude at this moment was quite strange.

She was neither as frenzied as Carmine, nor as indifferent as the remnants of the Six Flower Garden. She simply remained silent, her expression complex and unsettling.

The next moment, the gardener used the surrounding creeping branches to wrap himself up and quickly moved towards the distant shore. His movements were so decisive that even Fran couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

Bartley squinted, momentarily torn between whether or not he should give chase.

With such an imposing entrance and the genuine apostle aura, shouldn't you have used that arrogant and haughty tone to say something like "You're nothing but insects" before attacking? Why did you run away without even looking back?

Having been a Hunter of Mysteries for so many years, this was the first time Bartley had encountered such a situation, to the point that his proud experience was of no help whatsoever.

However, Haida did not let the other party leave.

As the blade of the power sword "Nirvana" landed within inches of the gardener, the nun's figure appeared, stopping the attack mid-journey.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Gardener, you can't leave."

"I should have basic respect for a practitioner of occultism who has experienced setbacks but never given up. But I do not condone your act of sacrificing tens of thousands of Morion's lives."

“I have no intention of criticizing or blaming you from a ‘moral’ perspective. I only want to express one point… According to the commandments of the Mysteries, our positions are contradictory.”

As she spoke, Haida gripped the hilt of her sword tightly, raised the blade, and pointed it directly at the "gardener" before her.

-

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soup!

Chapter 129 Deep Sea Scrolls

At this moment, is Haida capable of confronting an apostle head-on?

Without a doubt... the answer is no.

If her opponent were a high-ranking priest of the fifth tier, she might be able to glean a chance of victory through negotiation. Otherwise, she could at least preserve her strength to escape this dangerous encounter and then devise another plan.

After all, the most praised quality of the Hunters, besides direct combat, is launching surprise attacks when the enemy's defenses are relaxed.

Blessed blades, binding prayers, restrictive rituals, and even "ashes" explosives... With such ruthless assassination methods, even the most powerful mortal cannot guarantee escape from every surprise attack.

But the concept of "apostle" has completely shed its fragile mortal form.

They themselves are walking miracles, touching upon the deep principles beneath the surface of the world. Even with absolutely saturated heavy firepower, they can only be used for suppression, let alone annihilation.

In fact, Haida initially intended to let the "gardener" leave.

Even though she felt only a deep-seated disgust for such people who disregarded life, it would be equally reckless and foolish to make them her enemies, gaining nothing but unnecessary casualties.

But just now, Fran, who was standing behind the nun, pinched her waist and abdomen. He also blinked his eyes rather charmingly a few times.

Through some inexplicable unspoken understanding, Haida read Dr. Fran's thoughts in those amber eyes. In truth, the two often didn't need to communicate with words; even a single glance was enough for them to understand each other's intentions.

What Dr. Fran didn't say was probably "take action."

Heda didn't doubt or ponder it. The moment she received the order, she drew her sword and stepped forward, blocking the "Gardener" who only wanted to leave.

"nun……"

With the chilling, sharp tip of the power sword "Nirvana" pointed directly at his head, the gardener merely tilted his head and let out a sigh in a somber mood.

"Your heart pounded like a drum, your body was as strong as steel, as cold and resolute as your winter. You tempered your body and soul like an ascetic on a sacred altar, without ever letting up for a moment. As a young hunter, your excellence is unparalleled."

“Even in the lost era where the glory of early 9 has faded, you still deserve this praise. You can be proud of it, even the 'prototype' Gloria never received my approval.”

"So, are you really sure... you want to give up everything here?"

Her questioning carried a profound and penetrating sharpness, yet her tone was like the ambiguous banter between acquaintances.

Hearing Gardener Gland's words, even Bartley, who was far away, couldn't help but shudder.

Perhaps his will hadn't truly faltered, but the survival instinct deep within his body had sensed the imminent threat of death and reacted with its most intense intensity: palpitations, a rush of blood, and a surge of adrenaline…

Not to mention Heda, who is currently facing the apostle.

The scene before him made the inchworm a little nervous. He glanced at the hermit lady beside him without making it obvious, but she looked relaxed and natural, seemingly having no intention of helping him at all.

Did the Hermit believe that the nun could defeat the gardener? But how could that be? The apostles' oppression of mortals is irresistible; the very existence of both sides is an insurmountable chasm.