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Normally, a lecturer familiar with the field would suffice, but Professor Terence happened to possess extensive knowledge in this area and his professional competence far surpassed that of ordinary lecturers. Therefore, after a brief consideration and negotiating salaries, Granm decided to temporarily assign him the course…
However, it wasn't Professor Terence who came to this classroom today.
While Elsa was studying Chapter Nine of the Monroe Epic during the break before class, a slender young man with straight black hair, a pale face, and a somewhat haggard and gloomy expression entered from outside the classroom corridor and walked straight to the podium.
His steps were steady and silent, like a moth quietly fluttering its downy feathers.
The inchworm carried a briefcase containing lecture notes and documents and wore a loose, dark-colored uniform. Although it did not look like a faculty member at first glance, the brooch on its chest, symbolizing its status as a formal lecturer, already revealed its identity.
Good day, it's a pleasure to see you all.
The inchworm casually placed the lesson plan materials on the podium and then greeted the students present.
“I am a cleric of moths, from Foy of Golmouth. You may call me Inchworm. Obviously, this is a code name, different from my real name, but it has been with me in the Order for many years and can be considered part of my real name.”
"Due to the recent busy work on the excavation of the ruins, Professor Terence has ended his temporary teaching assignment. Starting today, I will be teaching the course 'International Relations in Foreign Lands'. In addition, I will also be teaching 'History of Gormouth' in the Department of History and 'Gormouth Language' in the Department of Linguistics."
After briefly explaining the situation and introducing his resume, he began his pre-class instructions.
“I know that most students who take this course may not actually be interested in international relations or politics, but just want to fill up their credits by putting it into their schedules, which is understandable.”
"However, Norrington is a special city. The shadow of war and turmoil lurks but never truly disappears. What you are learning may not be far removed from your own lives. And I sincerely hope that... apart from advanced studies, diplomatic events, and reading the newspaper at night, you will not have any place to experience this knowledge firsthand."
The inchworm's sound isn't loud, but its tone seems to contain a certain rhythm, so much so that it can be clearly heard by everyone even without a speaker.
If his relationship with the White Cup Order were a typical employer-employee relationship, then this guy wouldn't mind being a mediocre lecturer, essentially a despicable pay thief. While he wouldn't be perfunctory, he certainly wouldn't put in any effort either.
However, the decision to teach here was guided by the hermit lady, and besides, the treatment at White Cup was indeed much better than what he had received at Foy. This led to a slight change in the inchworm's attitude towards teaching...
Now, he has to figure out a way to cram every last bit of knowledge into the minds of these clueless little guys.
"Enough of the small talk, let's begin the formal lesson."
"Professor Terence has already discussed the issue of classifying international political thought, and I trust his teaching standards, so I have no intention of repeating it again. Please open Chapter 9, Section 5 of The Epic of Munro and the preface to Chapter 3 of The Snow Country."
"I will begin with the origins of the First War of Rheti, which will require reference to the aforementioned documents."
……
As it turned out, although this was Inchworm's first time as a lecturer in the political science department, his teaching was just as effective as that of the more experienced professors. Having lived in the turbulent Gormouth for many years, he had a deep understanding of the realities of the situation and truly possessed a talent for teaching.
His lectures are fast-paced yet steady, allowing for some time for reflection without making the overall pace too slow. Besides stating the inherent theories found in classical texts, he can readily provide examples to support his points or offer rebuttals.
In addition to these formal teaching methods, the inchworm also uses some tricks unique to the moth's disciples.
Even without using any secret rituals, he could subtly draw the attention of all his listeners to him simply by the rhythm of his voice, the swaying of his body, and the sound of tapping on the podium.
Scammers spread lies, dancers focus attention, and no one knows better than the followers of the moth in the forest how to incite desire and passion.
When the lesson ended, the inchworm simply gave a brief explanation and then left the classroom without looking back.
He didn't assign any homework this time. The content of this lesson hasn't been finished yet, and there are still some parts that aren't clear enough. He'll have them write a literature review after he finishes explaining it... As for taking attendance, well, the White Cup Cult hasn't made any demands on themselves in this regard, so these kids can come or not, it's up to them.
Speaking of which, Inchworm had originally considered assisting Professor Terence in his archaeological work at the History Department. Although the mission was somewhat dangerous, he could secretly pocket a portion of the artifacts, thus balancing the risks and benefits…
Alternatively, he could teach students the skills of dance; compared to the lengthy and complex political and historical content, manipulating the body is much simpler to teach. Unfortunately, Norlington Central College does not currently offer physical education courses, which is truly regrettable.
The inchworm didn't dislike teaching at Norrington College; compared to his colleagues, he was more tolerant of the uneventful, peaceful life.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have stored such a mountain of books in his little house on Oddington Street, just to further enrich his esoteric knowledge.
If Liu hadn't received the assignment from the Misty Society to investigate the shell-like remains, he probably wouldn't have changed his original lifestyle until he fully entered the Fourth Tier. However, it was precisely this trip that led to his chance encounter with the Hermit Lady in the Third Habitat, and his later decision to betray the sect...
Despite this, the inchworm still retains the essence of a disciple of the moth.
The unchanging, stable life at the temple is something he needs to endure. He will adapt to and accept his current situation, but he will not be content with the comfort of the moment.
"Norlington is a city controlled by hunters. Although the settlements and meeting points of the secret cult still exist, they are generally highly concealed. I need to think carefully about how to make contact with other practitioners of arcane arts..."
He muttered to himself, already eager to find some excitement to enrich his life.
It wasn't until quite some time after the inchworm left the classroom that Elsa finally put down her pen and snapped out of her reverie. Looking at the numerous new notes and annotations in her notebook, she was momentarily surprised.
Although the new lecturer was not as experienced as Professor Terence in some respects, his narration seemed to possess a certain magic, keeping the speaker in a state of heightened emotion throughout and causing them to lose all interest in other things.
This made Elsa a little curious about the inchworm's identity and origin.
The new lecturer from Golmouth looks very young, not much older than me, but his knowledge and experience are among the best of the lecturers, and he can even be compared with some senior professors.
My father told me that the political situation in the Kingdom of Abyss Sea has recently undergone some kind of dramatic change. Although the original power structure is maintained on the surface, both the royal court and the Star Abyss Society are actually under the control of the White Cup Order.
Mr. Inchworm happened to be from Gormouth, and perhaps he had some connection to this coup.
It should be noted that... although the inchworm appears to be only in its early twenties, that is due to the protective effect of studying the Night Moth Ritual on its own form. Its true age is the same as Yaheng's, or even slightly older.
-
Foggy Street Clinic.
Time flies, the moon is past its 50th, and the chill of late autumn grows ever deeper as winter approaches.
Fran's schedule is now largely complete, including Sister Heda's incarnation surgery, the physical examination and treatment of the saber-toothed creature Bebeza, and the translation and study of the Philanes parchment scroll.
Although there was the minor incident of the "skin-covering" on Moonburton Street, Heida had already gone to investigate, and the doctor didn't intend to pay too much attention to it until she got the results. She was just an ordinary citizen of Norlington working in the medical field, and naturally didn't need to worry about everything like those in power…
During this free time, Fran was able to devote his main energy to his research.
Through Heda's prototyping surgery, she obtained invaluable first-hand clinical data, leading to substantial progress in several interconnected projects. In addition, she also needed some personal time to review the technical manuals she had previously acquired.
For example, The Tombstone Book and Gosnik's Sewing and Unraveling.
The documents on the Necromancers of the cosmos remain as profound and obscure as ever; even after a thorough study, one cannot claim to have fully grasped their entirety. The Orcs' technology, on the other hand, is on a completely different level of incomprehensibility; one must find a way to assimilate one's thinking into their wondrous dimension.
After enjoying nearly two weeks of leisure, Fran woke up one morning in his soft bed and suddenly felt that something was wrong.
That's a subconscious warning.
Like leaving the house without your keys, leaving your headphones on the table when leaving a restaurant, or forgetting your portable hard drive at home for a routine meeting. Most people have had these kinds of anxieties, but quickly forget and ignore them.
"Clearly, something I overlooked."
Wearing a thin bear-patterned pajama, Fran sat solemnly on the edge of the bed, her fingertips slowly stroking her lower lip, her amber eyes occasionally flickering.
For this doctor, the brain's instinct to forget does not exist.
However, unlike someone who has etched the first type of ritual, "hyperthymesia," into their body, she doesn't need to maintain a state of unselective memory at all times. The disordered information generated in daily life is reviewed and stored by her, ready to be retrieved at any time.
Although maintaining hyperthymesia was not actually a burden for Fran, she preferred to use the human-like memory pattern described above, as it was more beneficial for maintaining her humanity.
"Let me think about it..."
While performing a memory retrieval, Fran reached out and took out a pair of black winter-style pantyhose from the storage cabinet next to the bed. Then, she took off her pajama pants and deftly put the pantyhose on her legs.
Her fair, radiant skin was gradually covered by fabric, revealing only the graceful curves of her calves and ankles. She had always favored cotton undergarments, which combined conservative aesthetics with comfortable warmth.
By the time Fran changed into a complete set of undershirts and a doctor's coat, he had completed the retrieval of his own memories.
"Oh...it's Bebesa."
She pursed her lips slightly, her expression becoming somewhat subtle.
Having only spent half a month researching alone, this guy certainly wouldn't have forgotten about that somewhat special saber-toothed creature.
What she really overlooked... was the monthly outpatient visit in September.
Since triggering the house call aboard the Leviathan at the beginning of the month, Fran had been dedicated to treating Bebesa. However, after cleansing her from the rust curse and external injuries, he handed her over to Sister Heda without giving her any further attention.
However, no further notification of the completion of the treatment was received.
We can't criticize Fran for not caring enough about her patients, after all, the cross-disciplinary outpatient visits in the third quarter of this year are getting closer and closer, and she needs to make preparations during this time.
Previously, the old self reflected through the ancient banyan fruit [Shadow of the Past] had made changes to the outpatient module. Fran had a very strong premonition that this change would probably be reflected in the cross-border outpatient visits each quarter.
"We need to have Sister Heda bring that kitten in for a follow-up check-up."
Fran raised his hands and stretched his waist, moving his body which was sore from sleeping.
Based on her judgment, saber-toothed beasts, being creations of the Blade type, should be quite compatible with hunters, which would help improve their mental state. Once her mental state returns to a certain level, the monthly house call will be scheduled.
But now there seem to be some unexpected little surprises.
Once her sleepiness subsided, Fran pulled up Bebeza's patient file, intending to review it briefly before deciding on a treatment plan. However, she soon discovered a previously unseen addition to the file details, which had already reached a conclusion.
[September treatment target: To replicate the saber-toothed creature 'Bebesa Larezer'.]
Qiu [This patient suffered from "post-traumatic stress disorder (resolved)," "mania (resolved)," "confinement syndrome (resolved)," "open trauma (healed)," and "defective design (structural damage)."]
Clearly, this last point refers to the recent changes in Bebesa's body.
0--
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Soup! (You're still eligible for perfect attendance this month!)
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Life Cycle
"Hmm~ The new symptom seems to be endogenous."
Sifulan gently stroked his cheek with one hand, lightly twirling a strand of braid around his fingertip, his amber eyes gleaming with an intriguing light.
Although the name "defective design (structural damage)" alone can give a general idea of the situation, the doctor still prefers to complete a re-examination before making a conclusion.
Obviously, this unexpected change pleased her quite a bit...
"Speaking of which, Bebesa's mental illness is even marked as 'relieved,' so it seems she must really like the Hunter's Order."
Logically speaking, it's hard to understand why Bebeza's mental state improved after she became a funeral maid. After all, the funeral home is known for its various forms of paranoia and is a hotbed of mental illness.
But Bebeza is an artificial saber-toothed creature, born to be embedded in the intricate gears of a war machine; both her survival principles and way of thinking differ from humans. Going to a place like Funeral Home would probably give her a sense of homecoming.
Moreover, a hunter's coldness and cruelty are always reserved for "external enemies." Colleagues mostly maintain a respectful equality, and their opinions of each other are determined solely by their own strength and value.
This is perhaps what that kitten needs.
Fran meticulously planned the possible treatment options, then after freshening up briefly, he left the bedroom, crossed the corridor, and entered the main hall.
To ensure comfort, she untied her gray braids at her temples before going to bed last night, but she didn't want to braid them again after waking up this morning... Fortunately, as long as she draped her hair over the back of the sofa, it would be neatly arranged in a few moments.
As expected, before the three breaths were completed, a warm sensation quietly came from behind her, gathering her loose, light-white hair.
"Dr. Fran, you got up much earlier than usual today. Is there something on your schedule?"
Sigrid stood behind the velvet sofa, reached out and gently massaged Fran's scalp, then asked a question.
Ling Fran squinted his eyes with obvious enjoyment, his tone carrying a hint of tenderness.
"Today we need to prepare a follow-up appointment for Bebesa. The kitten's external trauma and curse have been resolved, but she herself has some design flaws. Perhaps the Loretonians' skills in creating saber-toothed creatures are not perfect enough, or perhaps... this flaw is exactly what they need."
When she opened her eyes again, her previously disheveled light white hair had been re-braided, and her overall appearance was neat and beautiful.
6. Initially, Sigrid wasn't particularly skilled at weaving soft, thread-like materials, but she learned quickly. This was probably related to her experience as a craftswoman at the Tower of the Suncast, where she frequently used twisting techniques to add Damask patterns to castings.
This can be considered as drawing inferences from one instance to another, and making connections between similar cases.
"Design flaw?"
When discussing Bebesa, the field of casting inevitably comes up, which arouses the craftswoman's keen interest.
"Dr. Fran, if possible... please let me participate in this follow-up examination as well, maybe I can be of some help."
Although she had finished braiding those few strands of hair, she still placed her palms on Fran's nape and cheeks, as if trying to transfer some warmth. This gesture seemed to be some kind of instinct, just as the blazing sky high in the heavens would share its light without expecting anything in return.
“Your words are too modest, Sigrid. You should be able to do this job on your own even without my interference.”
Fran, of course, would not refuse.
Sigrid, a highly skilled Sunsmith with alchemical aptitude for primordial sun fragments, is probably the only individual at the Fog Street Clinic who can assist her during surgery.
Ms. Siodia and Tinuville might also be suitable, but the former only has a basic understanding of biological composition, and her only skill is probably in manually crafting Heil by relying on her noble creative instincts... while the latter's database is severely incomplete, and new biomedical data has not yet been entered.
……
Before noon, Haida and Bebesa pushed open the wooden door of the Fog Street Clinic.
She was in the midst of her routine training at the Suspended Blade Training Ground when, while wielding her sword, she caught a faint, lingering scent of Dream Sleep Flower.
The next moment, Luya appeared gracefully on her hooves, bringing Fran's message.
[Dear Sister Heda, it is as if we are meeting in person upon receiving this letter; opening it brings a smile to my face.]
Although we met three days ago when you came to the clinic to borrow books, using this kind of greeting, which sounds like a long-awaited greeting from a friend, might seem a bit cheesy. However, I personally prefer this rather traditional way of communicating. Recently, while reviewing Bebeza's medical records, I discovered some new issues. I hope that Haida can take the time to accompany her today to complete her follow-up appointment and the next course of treatment; this is very important.
[—Fran Hessell, Fog Street Clinic.]
Upon receiving the letter, the nun immediately knocked open the fog in the door, picked up Bebesa, who was gnawing on a table leg, and stepped into the fog-shrouded path.
Heda's movements seemed instinctive, without any conscious thought, natural and fluid. But it wasn't until her leather hunting boots touched the blue brick pavement of the misty street and she saw that familiar, slightly cool mist... that a question that had been quietly overlooked began to surface.