The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 295

Yaheng broke his silence and began to explain the origin of the artifact.

“I prefer to call it ‘trophies’.”

"Moreover, it originally belonged to the Hunters, but for some reason it ended up in Loretown and was taken over by the Saffold Council. All I did was take it back."

As he spoke, his grey-chestnut eyes, hidden beneath the brim of his tricorn hat, remained fixed on the pale grey psionic energy dancing at Fran's fingertips, without the slightest relaxation. Like a hawk eyeing its prey, nothing else existed in its field of vision.

Are you interested in the spirit I use?

Noticing his gaze, Fran subtly brushed a strand of hair from her neck. After confirming that the stitches hadn't been sealed and that she had enough time, she began her usual teaching explanation.

"Under the inherent rules of our history, the spirits driven by practitioners of occultism can be regarded as part of the material world, while the occult models in their own spirits are the means by which they manifest."

"All things possess a certain spiritual element, whether faint or abundant, but overall they maintain order and harmony. If understood from a mathematical perspective, it is similar to 'natural numbers'."

Faced with Fran's sudden lecture, Yaheng's eyes darkened slightly, but he continued listening.

He vividly recalled that Viola once had a similar habit.

One second she might be discussing the flowering period, color, habits, and pests and diseases that need to be prevented in Norrington roses. The next second, the topic will jump without any shift to some biological research being conducted by the Medical Court.

In this light, it's possible that Viola inherited some of her personality traits from her teacher.

The thought flashed through his mind but was quickly abruptly suppressed; Yaheng never allowed himself to be distracted in any form of struggle. However, after a moment's hesitation, he continued asking Fran's question.

“I think the ‘spirit’ you’re using doesn’t belong to the system you just described.”

"You can say that."

Fran nodded slightly, confirming his idea.

“Psionic energy is a kind of spiritual energy that is completely opposed to the material world. It is chaotic and disordered, as difficult to control as ever-increasing entropy. However, defining it is somewhat difficult.”

"If we use a mathematical analogy, it can be a negative number, an irrational number, or an imaginary number."

Although she tried her best to explain in a simple way, it was clear that Yaheng couldn't immediately grasp the specific meanings of these terms. However, the chief hunter still stored them all in his mind without missing a single one.

Of course, judging from the doctor's brief descriptions, the way she manipulated spirits was probably dangerous and difficult to fathom.

"Because our world's rules do not include a subspace, the High Heaven, or the Aetheric interface, the application of psionic energy is correspondingly restricted. It cannot be directly extracted but requires a complex and inefficient conversion process."

"Therefore, it has been proven impossible to extinguish a star using a spell like an Alpha-level psionicist. However..."

“There are still some interesting applications of psionic energy.”

As he spoke, Fran extended his palm toward Yaheng, his five fingers slightly curled up, making a "pinch" gesture.

Yaheng immediately felt an indescribable force caressing his head. It didn't just cover his scalp, but penetrated through his bones and flesh, acting directly on the softest part of his brain.

The immense pressure on the skull was building up in an instant; if it were an ordinary person, their head would probably have burst like a balloon struck by a needle.

But as the chief hunter of the Funeral Court, Aheng did not experience any negative emotions such as panic or fear in the face of the unexpected attack. Rather, the sense of danger, like a thorn in his back, began to ignite a burning excitement and fervor within him.

Ashes, snow, deathly silence—this is everything that belongs to the One Blade.

He had long been living with death.

Yaheng's dark, faded leather robe billowed in the wind, revealing fifteen sword castings, each with a distinct aura. At the same time, he hurled the nearly bloated scythe he held in his hand.

Passing through the leaping, flashing chains of lightning and the scorching gray spirit fire, the Throne of the Headhunter grazed Fran's waist at close range and landed behind her.

At the same time, it pinned her shadow to the ground.

At that moment, the fifteen castings slowly emerged from the shadows, the prayers etched on the blades and guards connecting with each other, blocking, freezing, and tearing apart all forms of spiritual flow.

But before the ritual could take effect, Fran had already clenched his fist, completing the psychic burst in Aheng's mind. (8)

"Bang!" Cover

A deafening explosion, like thunder. 7

When the smoke cleared, Yaheng's French tricorn hat was nowhere to be seen, and his face was covered with cracked scorch marks. The soft, dense contents of his skull were likely in even worse condition. The fact that his skull retained its shape was thanks to the astonishing resilience of the Blade Apostle.

But his movements didn't falter in the slightest, as if what drove his body was no longer his mind, but an obsession etched into his very being. Lu

The ominous, dark scythe of the Funeral Court has attracted too much attention, so much so that even Aheng's opponents sometimes overlook one thing... The chief hunter is never a sorcerer who hides in the shadows and manipulates shadows, but a blade wielder who is not afraid of wounds.

"Without this body that belongs to a non-human being, I would truly be dead. Despite my loathing for it, this power is still indispensable."

“I will execute your madness again, just as I did on the day the Great Plague ended.”

The skin on Yaheng's head is slowly regenerating, eventually covering the skull again.

This doesn't mean the effects of the psionic explosion on his brain have disappeared; in fact, his thoughts are in complete disarray. But his body has already learned everything needed for the fight through countless wounds.

The scythe of the decapitation throne hovered over Fran's neck, but ultimately came to a halt, failing to sever his head.

Yaheng narrowed his eyes, his expression somewhat strange.

At this moment, the doctor's eyes were slightly closed, his pale, frosty eyelashes drooping together. Whether it was the completeness of his past self or his wild thoughts, it all seemed to have completely vanished without a trace.

The moment the psionic burst was completed, the temporal element of the Ancient Banyan Fruit [Shadow of the Past] was exhausted, and the black stitches around her neck completed their loop.

Fran, however, remained standing and fell into a deep sleep.

Given her consistently excellent sleep quality, her expression was even quite serene at this moment.

That suppressed and uneasy spiritual energy seemed to have vanished without a trace.

After frowning and pondering for a moment, Yaheng turned and walked to Melvis, who had already transformed into the nascent form of an abyss. He then swung the Throne of the Judgement and severed the broken, melted head, which was completely unrecognizable as human.

Having accomplished his purpose, he put on the tricorn hat he had deliberately taken off earlier. Then he turned and stepped into the shadows, leaving behind the Bone Sanctuary, a place now nothing but ruins and a sea of ​​blood.

For Yaheng now, the only way to hone himself is through "the baptism of death".

The complete Fran did indeed pose a significant threat and exert considerable pressure on the chief hunter... Had she not been clearly mentally unstable and unable to maintain her condition, the final outcome might have been uncertain.

Besides that, Yaheng also has some regrets.

Fran answered almost every question, and even without speaking, she would pose a question and then begin to answer it herself...

Perhaps, we should take this opportunity to ask her why she was able to be exempt from the instant death trait of the throne.

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Chapter 198 Turned into Salt Dust

Sensing that the lingering unease within the dilapidated Bone Stone Sanctuary was rapidly dissipating, Haida immediately stepped back inside.

If it weren't for Fran's warning, and the fact that the danger lurking in the well had indeed exceeded her limits, she would never have waited until this moment. And letting Aheng be alone with Dr. Fran just now made her feel even more uneasy…

The nun had glimpsed Fran's past madness in the memory box during her annual house call, and she also knew her father's ways intimately. To some extent, a conflict between the two was almost inevitable.

A moment later, she re-entered the Bonestone Sanctuary.

Everything here is completely different from when I first arrived.

Apart from the broken pillars and collapsed reliefs, everything else was dominated by an intensely crimson color. Thick, putrid blood was constantly leaking out, but it still reached above her calves and seeped into her hunting boots.

Stepping on the "land" formed by the corpses of creatures from the Abyss, Haida gradually approached the central altar of the Bone Stone Sanctuary. During this process, she encountered Yaheng, who was preparing to leave.

"The lingering poison of the Abyss has been eradicated. You will now take over the Purifiers again, and the final cleanup will be your responsibility."

Perhaps to save time, he broke the silence between them succinctly.

"Ah."

Haida bowed slightly, accepting the instruction from the Minister of Funeral Rites.

Of course, the aftermath of such minor matters was completely unimportant, and the two tacitly understood this. But compared to other ways of getting along, this father and daughter were more accustomed to using work as the topic of their daily conversations.

After giving this explanation, Yaheng slightly lowered the brim of his hat and then passed by Haida, who seemed to want to say something more.

But soon, his voice rang out from behind.

"As for the doctor, she has calmed down and there is no need to worry about her. The Chief Judge was unable to execute her anyway, and I have no reason to eliminate her."

"Seven" is an unexpected reminder.

Following Haida and Yaheng's usual way of interacting, Lu should have ended the entire conversation just now. After all, the chief hunter's time is extremely precious, and he seemed to be carrying an indescribable sense of urgency, as if he were being chased by something invisible.

Lu: "...I understand."

Sanhai Da paused for a moment upon hearing this before indicating that she understood.

"Father, how are your injuries?"

Although Si Zongran always used shadows to cover the lower half of his face, it was still difficult to hide the scorching marks left on his head from the psychic energy explosion that had just crushed it. However, thanks to the self-healing ability of the Apostle rank, the gruesome gash was no longer visible.

However, it did leave "visible" damage on the chief hunter, which was by no means something that could be achieved through unconventional means.

"No problem."

In response to his daughter's concern, Yaheng quickly gave a calm reply.

After ascending to the rank of Apostle, he no longer possessed any vital organs in the ordinary sense. Even if his head were crushed, he could recover completely with just a small amount of spiritual energy. However, this was still somewhat inferior to the near-limitless self-regeneration of those who worshipped the Cup.

Strictly speaking, he still has weaknesses, but they are no longer in this body.

When Haida turned around, there was no one behind her, only a deep shadow that had not yet dissipated.

In fact, Yaheng could have easily slipped into the shadows and left the Bone Stone Sanctuary without a trace. However, upon noticing Haida's arrival, he revealed himself and paused for a moment.

After delivering this brief, almost hasty farewell, Haida quickly composed herself and strode toward the central altar where Fran was.

At this moment, the doctor's hair was disheveled, and her clothes and skin were covered with sticky, thick blood and fragments of organs that had dissolved into a mud, making them difficult to identify. She herself, however, was peacefully asleep, breathing evenly, as if she were lying in bed.

"Dr. Fran."

Heda pinched the hem of her nun's robe and wiped away the congealed blood from her body, then whispered a call in her ear.

Fran opened his eyes at that moment.

However, her expression still carried a lingering, languid sleepiness, as if she were still immersed in a warm, deep dream.

"Hmph... As expected, using [Shadow of the Past] to awaken my complete past self still puts a considerable burden on me. I don't understand why my past self was so enthusiastic about high-intensity close combat."

Fran narrowed his eyes, then pursed his lips.

At this moment, her waist and knees ached, she was exhausted and powerless, all the spiritual energy stored in her body had been squandered, and her limbs were so weak that they were almost falling apart.

Dissecting the nascent form of Melvis was itself a massive undertaking, requiring considerable effort. Not to mention, after completing it, she even challenged the Chief Hunter to a duel, harboring a certain interest…

Furthermore, she even had the energy to uphold the principle of "fairness" in this battle. From beginning to end, she relied solely on her own psionic skills, without any intention of using any external aids.

"He was covered in blood again, and you could even hear the sound of his shoes bubbling with blood as he took a step. The clothes he was wearing were probably ruined."

After a slight, disdainful sigh, she stretched out her palm and discovered a string of numbers scratched out with her fingernails in the nearly dried bloodstains.

35%.

Clearly, this was something Fran's old self had left behind without him even realizing it.

She didn't offer any further written hints, clearly very confident in her ability to unravel the mystery of her future self. This hasn't changed; Fran has maintained a remarkably high degree of narcissism throughout every period.

This is also an indispensable part of the personality structure of perfectionists.

"Thirty-five percent..."

After a moment's thought and a brief search of his memories of fighting against Yaheng, Fran quickly came to the answer.

"Oh, you mean the degree of integration between Yaheng and the Judgment Throne is lower than expected. It seems that although he doesn't mind using any form of power, he is still extremely wary of power itself."

According to Fran's own research, the safe baseline for fusing the relic's scythe is around 50%. Above this threshold, the erosion becomes uncontrollable and worsens over time.

During her visit to "Future Norrington," Heda, now the last Minister of Funerals, was able to single-handedly plunge the entire city into darkness; at that time, her integration level was probably over ninety percent. She might even have been able to become a vessel for the descent of a certain deity.

Just then, Shitia returned to the Bonestone Sanctuary and saw the two people in the center of the altar.

And the mutilated corpse of Melvis, its head removed, utterly devoid of all life. Due to the almost ironclad nature of the Decapitation Throne's instant death, his entire body was as withered as a dead branch, tinged with a deathly gray hue.

The president of the association is now like a ruptured sack, its contents spilling out in all directions, completely obscuring the original human form.

Whether it was Fran or the chief hunter's doing, Melvis's death is an undeniable fact. Karmion may be gone, but he left behind at least the tulip as a trace of his existence.

He, on the other hand, was deprived of all possibility of being resurrected.

Although her gaze was firmly drawn to Melvis's corpse, Shitia took a deep breath and then turned to Fran, whose aura was weak and who seemed to be in poor condition.

"Dr. Fran, how are your injuries? If you'd like, please let me take a look. Perhaps it's too shallow for me to discuss 'medical skills' in front of you, but if it's the influence of the Abyssal Spirit Essence... Hail certainly has quite a bit of experience."

"This is, after all, the accumulation of our efforts since the Age of Decay."

Upon hearing this, Fran slightly raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile in his eyes.