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Upon hearing this, Bebesa felt her blood rushing from her limbs to her heart, creating a powerful, audible throbbing sensation.
Before she could decide whether to accept the offer from the nun who had given her some psychological trauma, her hand had already been unconsciously extended.
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I caught a bit of a cold these past couple of days as winter started to arrive, and I've also been quite busy. Sorry about that.
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Pesting Plague
Although there was no verbal response, Bebeza had set the most direct example through her actions. Even she herself was not entirely aware of why she had so readily accepted the nun's invitation.
It was as if some kind of calling or a tacit understanding at the subconscious level had come together, as if everything was meant to be.
"very good."
Heda took Bebesa's hand, gripped it firmly and tightly, and then slowly released it.
"A few words are not enough for you to form a complete understanding of the Hunter's Order. After we return to the Order, I will witness it with you."
"……Um."
Bebesa didn't know what to say in this situation, so she just nodded.
Only after the face-to-face recruitment session came to an end did Haida lower her eyes slightly with a hint of relief and let out a soft sigh of relief.
Fortunately, I never slacked off in Mr. Zoparos's cipher lessons during my reserve years.
Although she is not fluent in Loretonian and has rarely used it recently, she has at least mastered most of the basic spoken language and can communicate without difficulty.
Bebesa showed no resistance to the hunters' offer, so the first task was considered complete. Now, it's time to discuss another matter.
Fran then took out a blank scroll with a heavy, ancient feel from his medicine box and smoothly spread it out on the table in the main hall.
"Is this the remnant of the murder on Moonburton Street a few days ago?"
This canvas immediately caught Haida's attention.
The nun's schedule had been tight and busy lately. First, she participated in the first type of trial to become a Conscripted Servant. After that, she went through emergency treatment, recuperation, and Fran's Primarchization surgery... However, during a little free time while lying in her hospital bed, she still listened to Vivian recount the events.
A painter who inexplicably became evil and gained the ability to avoid physical damage, a young junior whose appearance was altered beyond recognition by a curse, and this strange, unidentified relic...
Although she had encountered similar situations many years ago, the intelligence she had gathered so far still made Haida cautiously brace herself.
Oh, that might be an inappropriate description, after all, given Heda's strict self-discipline, the state of "relaxation" was almost forgotten by her... It's just that because a certain doctor was by her side, she would sometimes use special methods to forcibly calm the nun down.
"Obviously, yes."
Fran blinked lightly, indicating her agreement with her guess.
"Based on the information I have so far, this painting can forcibly absorb a portion of an individual's soul essence when it is blank, and replace it with a curse... This will cause the object's face to become distorted, its material form to change, and a strong smell of ink to emanate from its body."
"If the symptoms reach the terminal stage, it should also be accompanied by a weakening of one's own 'reality'. For example, after the Dwyer brothers revealed their true forms, they were completely detached from the human realm and were able to reconstruct themselves at a speed that exceeded biological limits."
"The specific appearance is roughly like this."
Words alone were clearly too vague, so Fran raised his hand, took the quill pen that Sigrid handed him, dipped it in ink, and began to sketch impromptu.
As an amateur painter who can quickly sketch Leonardo da Vinci's "Vitruvian Man," recreating what she has seen with a paintbrush is quite easy for her.
A beak formed from overlapping leaves, eyes transformed from soft clocks, ears served as broken bird wings, and blood as fragments of gold-colored paper. At that time, Dwyer and Lenormont, aside from barely maintaining their vague human outlines, had nothing left to be called human.
It's like an image drawn with oil paint on a canvas appearing in reality, only making people feel strange and uncomfortable.
Almost the instant she saw Fran's sketch, Shitia narrowed her azure eyes and uttered a single word quickly and firmly.
"Surrealism."
"This school of painting has a very distinctive style, and it has a self-established order." (The text then abruptly shifts to a seemingly unrelated statement: "From the beginning of this era, a large number of esoteric rituals originated from it.")
Once the subject of discussion touches upon art and occultism, this somewhat carefree noblewoman of Heir immediately becomes serious. After all, this is one of the few pastimes she has had in her long life besides eating…
In fact, her decision to stay in Fog Street was also closely related to Fran's extensive and diverse bookshelves. It should be noted that the culinary skills of a certain doctor also played a significant role in this.
Seeing that Shisitia was quite interested in the painting, Fran naturally continued the conversation.
"That's right, that's the conclusion I came to when I first saw it."
"However, I'd like to know, which type of esoteric ritual is this within the surrealist genre? I did some research on this a long time ago, but all the detailed information was lost in a minor accident."
Since the doctor suffered significant memory loss due to the urgent self-disintegration, she no longer believed in her near-perfect memory palace and instead preferred to store her memories in the form of books.
The more sophisticated and fancy the structure, the more fragile it is. Sometimes, simple and inefficient methods can achieve the purpose of preserving information, such as "carving words on stone".
Of course, this is just a symbolic expression.
Although Fran's tone was as light and casual as a brushstroke, Shitia could vaguely sense that the "minor accident" she was talking about was probably not as simple as it sounded.
After calming her mind and thinking for a moment, Xitia recounted what she knew.
"Surrealist paintings abandon logic and rationality, pursuing primal, ignorant drives and unbridled desires of the subconscious. Perhaps they are the bubbles of dreams, perhaps a fleeting recollection, or perhaps the echo of memories."
"They will dissect, imprint, and blend existing constructs to create an absurd final picture."
100¤$7691→♂43>6 Search≡□Qun: When it comes to art, she is quite talkative, speaking slowly and deliberately, with a reserved and generous demeanor, like an announcer of a lyric opera.
"The mystical arts and rituals derived from this concept are generally related to the sexual characteristics of moths or cups."
"As for this painting..."
When she mentioned this, her expression showed some hesitation, as if she had not yet reached a definite conclusion.
"Rather than requiring strict adherence to a particular form of secret art or ritual, it is closer to the product of reprocessing fragments of a certain principle. There were many similar things after the end of the Dust Order era, but most of them were collected or sealed away by later generations."
Essentially, Sigrid, who is a fragment of the primordial sun, and [S-200. Moonmark Silver], which Shiodia obtained from King Heil, both belong to this category.
However, even as a remnant of the broken principles, significant differences still exist between different individuals.
Purity, nature of power, rank, and other such factors all affect the final quality of the aforementioned relics.
For example, the pseudo-sun sword that Sigrid conjured could easily suppress Moonmark Silver, and if she wielded Moonmark Silver to slash at the blank scroll, the latter would be pulverized as if it were dry and withered.
"Um……"
Xitia sat with her slender legs crossed, maintaining a dignified posture. The translucent tassels on the hem of her dress swayed slightly, indicating that their owner was currently in a state of deep thought.
"Most of the spirit in this painting has dissipated, leaving only traces of a few fragments of the principles that once existed here. I cannot further determine its influence based on this. But according to Dr. Fran's description, the symptoms of this curse are somewhat similar to the 'molting plague' of the lost era."
"The molting plague?"
Haida was quite sensitive to such words and immediately inquired about the follow-up.
Xitia picked up the "winter bud" that Sigrid handed her and took a sip, then began to recount her experience.
"I have not personally witnessed the molting plague, but a former compatriot who was keen on traveling to various countries once mentioned his experiences with it. He had just returned from Philanes, which had become a fragmented kingdom... This usually talkative and somewhat annoying fellow fell silent for a long time before sharing this story with us."
"That's a remote little town on the border of Ferranes, located on the other side of the Abyss."
"People are so fervently devoted to the beauty and awe of the senses, like new leaves yearning for daylight. I saw, in the shadows of the art gallery, families slaughtering their offspring, lovers strangling each other, murderers donning the skin of their victims, and the red flesh of victims wandering the streets, aimlessly searching for their lost bodies." lin
"Two rows of footprints, overflowing with blood." lin
"People are filled with anxiety, and they've become accustomed to it."
Because the nobles of Heil could communicate on a spiritual level through their tassels, Shitia used the first person in her description, as if she were a firsthand witness to the molting plague.
"In other places, this experience might be considered bizarre, but in Ferranes, it's not unusual."
Fran remained unfazed by the scene Shitia described, showing no surprise whatsoever.
Since it can be called a "plague," covering an entire city is merely the basic requirement. Especially in a godforsaken place like Ferranes. However… although its severity doesn't yet rival the Great Plague of Norrington, it still warrants some attention.
The distant natural disasters of a thousand years ago are beginning to show signs of resurgence, a truly ominous sign.
“Then, this painting will be left for Ms. Shitia to study. As for Sister Haida, you know what to do… I believe you don’t need any additional guidance in criminal investigation.” Liu
"Yes, I will apply to the General Affairs Department for project approval and investigation after I return to the cult."
Although Heda remained calm, she was already planning her next move. Undoubtedly, this was a case with significant hidden dangers, requiring a thorough investigation, starting with the Dwyer brothers' recent experiences and the painting's provenance; it was urgent.
The perspective shifts back to Bebesa, who is sitting next to Heida.
The saber-toothed creature was curled up against the sofa, its nascent chest rising and falling slowly, emitting even, slightly snoring breaths, as if it had been asleep for a long time.
At least until she becomes proficient in Common Tongue, this situation will remain the norm...
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The following day, in the central district of Norlington, the Order of the Mysteries.
In the General Affairs Department's office, Alvin looked at Haida, who was holding a copper-brown leopard cat, and fell silent for a moment.
Although Master Zoparos of the Mystic Arts Department has issued an identification certificate stating that this little guy is a sub-adult creature with saber-tooth blood, and according to the General Affairs Court's terms, he can be incorporated into the Executive Agency after a brief training and assessment...
But he still felt it was somewhat unreal.
It's like the neighbor's kitten getting unanimous agreement during a civil service exam interview.
The Order of the Mystics has indeed been preparing to recover various lost items since the beginning of the millennium, including rituals, spells, relics, and these ancient races with a affinity for blades.
However, this was the first time Alvin had encountered a living saber-toothed beast.
"cough-"
He raised his hand, clenched his fist, coughed lightly, covered his mouth, and then began to handle the matter officially in accordance with the regulations.
Zoparros's test report specifically mentioned that Bebesa did not understand Common Tongue and needed to use Loreton.
Fortunately, Alvin had worked in clerical work for many years and was one of the first to experience the chaos in the North when he was young. His Loreton language was more standard than Haida's, and even had a faint trace of the local rugged accent.
"The saber-toothed creature Bebesa, after being examined and confirmed by Master Zoparos, has completed the first-class ritual, the 'Mouth of Proverbs,' and has the guarantee and recommendation of the summoned attendant Haida... In accordance with the laws of the Dust Order and the appointment and dismissal regulations of the General Affairs Court, your application to join the church is approved."
"Welcome back, creation of the former swordsman. Or perhaps, I should now call you a 'colleague'."
Alvin stretched out his calloused hand, seemingly wanting to touch Bebesa's satin-like fur.
But he ultimately restrained himself, and the gesture was changed to a wave of greeting.
"The initiation ceremony for the funeral maids will take place at dawn tomorrow. There's no need for too much preparation; hunters don't value formalities."
"Before that, you can familiarize yourself with the location and facilities of the four courts. Since you were not promoted from the reserve, you will be assigned to Sister Haida's task force, and she will directly assign tasks and coordinate operations."
"Meow."
Bebesa responded with a slightly shy tone, but because she was in Haida's arms, she seemed quite obedient at the moment.
After completing a series of written procedures, Haida left the general affairs manager's office with Bebesa.
Considering that this little one can only perform basic spoken communication, expecting her to be able to write is unrealistic. Therefore, all her written documents are signed by Haida on her behalf.
Watching Haida leave after saying goodbye, Alvin crossed his arms and frowned slightly, as if deep in thought.
"...Strange, has Haida grown taller again? Is it secondary development caused by healing from her injury?"
Alvin's imposing and tall stature made him less sensitive to such matters. If Ms. Marian were here, she would have noticed Heda's height change with just a glance and been astonished to find that she had grown nearly ten centimeters in just a few days.
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Soup! December!
Chapter Twenty-Four: The Head Exhibition Hall
A thin mist rose and then dissipated, the light of the moon and stars dimmed and disappeared in the blink of an eye, and after a few breaths, the pale daylight without warmth appeared in a corner of the sky.
Midnight is exhausted, and dawn has arrived.
The cycle of day and night begins a new alternation.
In the ossuary, which houses countless swords, weapons, and the remains of ancestors, Zoparos, dressed in a black ceremonial robe, holds a steel-cast longsword in one hand and a book in the other, reciting a ceremonial eulogy in an aged yet resolute tone.
"The nihilistic desire for violence burns unrestrainedly through everything we know, yet the endless self-destruction will eventually be extinguished, returning to the cold, desolate ashes. Perhaps this is what it seeks, for the thriving world is too noisy and chaotic."
"The rulers of the mob manipulate the supreme authority of the secular world, meticulously stirring up the vast engine called war. The inviolable power imprisons every piece firmly within the intersecting squares of the chessboard. You, me, him, and even the chess player hiding behind the true curtain are no different."
"The blood of resistance flows wherever oppression exists, whether it pumps in the heart, pours out under the sword, or flows across the earth. Even if it is as insignificant as a speck of dust, it yearns to be as hot and blazing as the sun, and even if there is no light, it is willing to release the last bit of heat."
"The coffins of bygone eras are closed forever; there is no need to offer elegiac songs for those that have been sealed away. We are born from the ashes and practice new, pure principles."
"Creature bearing the blood of saber teeth, are you willing to serve the last swordsman and become the newly forged hunting sword?"
Having said that, Zoparos gripped the sharp blade, pointed the tip at his heart, and then handed the hilt to Bebeza.
This is a special etiquette used when facing ancient races who have returned to the cult, representing trust among colleagues.
"Yes."