The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

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"Sister Haida, and what about you?"

Upon hearing this, Haida looked towards the fire that was spreading continuously in the secret storeroom, letting the dazzling golden-red flames be reflected in her eyes, dancing and rising.

"I will do my best to retrieve the dangerous relics and, incidentally, resolve any remaining hidden dangers here."

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Soup! (Transition)

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Painting Spores in a Bag

"Clearing away any remaining threats... Sister Haida, are you alone? Can I stay here and assist you?"

Bebesa scratched her cheek, looking somewhat puzzled.

From the moment he stepped into the Drowning Theater, the saber-toothed creature had been itching to act but had no opportunity to do so. As a result, he eventually lost patience and questioned Haida's plans.

She had no doubt that the nun could handle the tasks here on her own, after all, the other party could easily suppress her, who had been completely plasticized into a saber-toothed beast, even with her bare hands, and could not be judged by the logic of ordinary humans.

But in doing so, wouldn't I be doing nothing at all, making myself seem superfluous and not worthy of the funeral home's generous food and salary?

In contrast, Vivian had absolutely no such worries. She wished she could avoid any event that might involve dangerous contact, preferring to stay in the confidential archives doing purely clerical work…

Unfortunately, she currently has the most impressive resume among the younger generation of field agents, making her the first choice for investigation missions.

Ife did not object, obediently waiting to carry out orders. She was a competent and excellent funeral maid, and would unconditionally obey orders from her superiors.

"If you would like to visit, you may stay in the warehouse for a while, but it is best not to get too close to me."

Heda did not refuse Bebesa's request.

The fumes from the burning waste are toxic and can burn the respiratory tract, so Eve and Vivian cannot stay there for long. However, these external environmental factors are clearly no danger to Bebesa, who is growing inside the furnace.

As for Haida herself... the thick smoke and high temperature had little effect on her, and she was confident that she could slow the spread of the fire and quickly finish the investigation.

A moment later, Vivian and Ifrit escorted the smuggling survivors to the passage as planned, while Haida and Bebesa remained in the empty and spacious underground warehouse.

"Tap, tap, tap."

As the footsteps faded into the distance, Haida closed her eyes, her eyelashes fluttering, and slowly inhaled the air into her lungs.

As Bebesa pondered what the nun was about to do, she saw the nun slightly part her lips, as if something was brewing in her throat. Although she didn't know what it was, she certainly sensed danger very deeply.

Once the process of inhaling air was completely complete, Haida exhaled a breath toward the center of the fire, which was still blazing with flames.

Surging, fierce, and sharp as a howling north wind. Deep black scales and dust are swirling within, emanating an ominous, dim light.

The originally raging fire instantly created a hole in the impact of the scale dust, and the surrounding flames were extinguished by the breath, leaving only a few scattered embers that still emitted heat.

And what was originally hidden in the fire can no longer use it to conceal itself.

It was an egg.

Or, to put it another way, it could be described as an oval-shaped object that is, to put it more precisely, an ellipsoid.

Including the people who carried the scroll, the foreman, and the smuggling team leader, there were five victims in this incident. Their skin could be seen spontaneously spreading out, overlapping, and then splicing together, layer upon layer covering the unsettling oval object.

The shriveled facial features, the scattered teeth in the mouth, and the scalp and lower limb hair were all covered with charred marks from the scorching heat, but their original outlines could still be vaguely discerned. Besides the pungent smell of ink, the air was filled with the rich aroma of roasted protein and fat.

"What disgusting stuff."

Bebesa frowned, pursed her lips, and then gave her evaluation.

Even though the appearance of evil offspring is generally unsettling, the strangeness of this thing is still among the worst. Just a glance from afar is enough to make an ordinary person feel an uncontrollable nausea.

Haida did not utter a word, but remained silent, gripping the hilt of her power sword "Nirvana".

The objective has been identified; the only thing to do now is to eliminate it. In the process, the nun can also temporarily set aside her concerns about the consequences and unleash her pent-up violent desires as much as possible.

"Peng!"

With a cracking sound and a burst of debris, Haida was nowhere to be seen where she had been standing, leaving only the footprints left by her hunting boots.

With her keen sense of movement as a feline, Bebesa barely managed to make out Haida's trajectory. In the blink of an eye, she had already leaped close to the egg-shaped object formed by the coupling of skin and flesh, and slashed down with her sword.

The sword's edge pierced through the outer skin, and the contents, a mixture of internal organs and bones, burst forth layer by layer. The entire process was seamless and fluid, almost like a freehand sketch.

Seeing the scene before her, Bebesa's throat trembled slightly, and she silently swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

If Sister Heda's sword had been aimed at her, she probably wouldn't have been in much better shape than the egg-shaped creature. Even with her saber-toothed body fully manifested, she still couldn't visualize herself blocking the sword.

In casual conversation, Sister Heda usually categorizes herself strictly as human. So, are humans actually creatures with tails, capable of exhaling black breath, and possessing physical strength comparable to mythical beings?

Obviously, the answer is no.

During her escape from Loreton, Bebeza had contact with many humans, who were just as vulnerable as ordinary weak creatures, and even the smallest wound could leave irreversible and serious damage. Sister Heda, on the other hand, was almost the absolute opposite of the word "weak"; she was practically a humanoid dragon's offspring.

Thoughts raced through her mind, but Bebesa did not neglect to observe the situation at hand.

Although the egg-shaped sac was cleaved open by a sword, it did not decay and perish like a living organism. Instead, it showed a tendency to reassemble at a visible speed, with flesh and blood intertwining, and it was about to return to its whole state.

In addition, the joints at its break point begin to secrete mottled oil paint, gradually creating a sense of illusion and blurring one's vision.

"As Vivian said, the derivatives of [overlay] have a polymerizing ability that exceeds the normal physiological activity, as well as the property of being exempt from physical trauma."

Haida's eyes did not show any surprise; on the contrary, her breath grew even hotter at that moment.

A target that feels good in the hand and doesn't move is indeed hard to find. And it's also self-healing, not easily damaged...

"As far as I know, no individual possesses true physical immunity before reaching the Apostle level. And now, I'm somewhat curious about your threshold for withstanding damage..."

As she spoke, she thrust the power sword in her hand vertically into the floor, clenching her fists tightly, her knuckles cracking several times.

The next moment, Haida unleashed a barrage of punches, each strike accompanied by a deep, explosive roar that seemed to tear the wind apart.

The oval object showed a deep indentation the moment it touched her hands, and the fleshy vibrations rippled in layers. However, before it could rebound, the next punch followed.

It is sturdy, strong, and has a good feel; it doesn't feel weak or unable to withstand force.

In her daily life, this nun maintained a reserved and taciturn demeanor, spending most of her time outside of routine training studying scriptures. As a result, those who did not know her well often formed a "quiet" first impression after the initial awe of her height and full armor subsided.

All of this will only change after witnessing her violent and ferocious fighting style firsthand.

The dull thuds of flesh being struck repeatedly continued. At first, it still showed some obvious elastic deformation, but gradually its entire structure became softer and more collapsed. Under the pressure, the biomass, including flesh and bones, was squeezed into a ball, crushed into pulp, and rotted into mud.

About a minute later, Haida let out a sigh of relief and raised her hand to wipe the blood off her fingertips.

The egg, formed from pieced-together human skin, had now turned into an indescribable mass; if one had to describe it, it would be more like a paste of flesh and bone used as animal feed. Even in this form, it remained alive, though the rate of its aggregation had visibly slowed.

"Warm-up is over."

Haida pursed her lips, feeling a slight warmth spreading through her limbs. She could throw punches with that intensity for 24 hours straight without feeling tired. If it weren't for improving the efficiency of the investigation mission, she wouldn't mind hitting the punching bag a little longer.

Surprisingly, the power sword "Nirvana" remained silent, without emitting a metallic whistle in protest against her choice to fight bare-handed.

For him, killing an enemy who offered almost no resistance and had no sense of honor was hardly interesting. Most importantly, this guy's entire structure consisted of several layers of skin wrapped around a pulpy substance; he didn't even have a head to cut off.

Just then, Bebesa rubbed her eyes, as if she were seeing some kind of illusion.

Sister Heda, have you seen a butterfly?

From her perspective, the egg-shaped mass on the ground, almost crushed into minced meat, was slowly sublimating, then coalescing in the air into a winged insect. Its wings flapped silently, and the mottled, dazzling patterns were faintly visible, resembling flower buds or eyes, strange and beautiful.

"I saw it."

Heda nodded slightly, confirming that what was dancing in Bebesa's eyes was not her imagination.

"Although the wing patterns are very similar, judging from the characteristics of the insect body, they are moths."

Even with a physical foundation built using Primarch techniques, the nun was not entirely immune to illusions originating from the Mystic Arts and spirits. This was actually quite reasonable, since even true Primarchs were frequently troubled by mental or warp-level phenomena.

However, she was not unprepared for the changes that are now taking place.

After grasping the power sword "Nirvana" once more, Haida closed her eyes completely, and her vision plunged into deep darkness. The colorful moths that had been waving their scales also fell silent at this moment, returning to stillness and formlessness.

But her perception of the outside world did not disappear; instead, it became even clearer.

The Black Erosion Dragon's eye structure is completely underdeveloped before it molts, and therefore it lacks vision. So, when hunting or fighting, it needs to constantly spread its scales around it, using these suspended particles to sense its surroundings—akin to a form of biological radar.

In Bebesa's eyes, the moths with dazzling patterns gathered together to form a blurry human-shaped silhouette.

Its mouth moved slowly, without making a sound, but the words inexplicably surfaced in its mind.

"Without using heavy firepower or secret rituals, you single-handedly defeated 'The Painted Spore in the Bag'? How absurd that there is an individual like you among the Hunters of Mysteries? You haven't even stepped into the fourth tier yet..."

Its appearance is mysterious and unpredictable, yet its words carry an obvious sense of surprise, a feeling of astonishment that common sense has been overturned.

Haida kept her eyes closed and remained silent.

It wasn't that she was unwilling to exchange information, but rather that she had blocked her senses, so the illusion did not form in her mind.

In short... she couldn't hear what the other person was saying.

But clearly, the nun didn't need such meaningless communication; she would respond with the blade in her hand. Before the illusory figure could speak again, she had already pierced and lifted a still-wriggling piece from the egg-shaped flesh with her sword.

It was a thick, blank canvas, tanned from human skin. It had previously lay flat, huddled at the bottom of the egg, barely escaping the impact.

Upon contact with the sword's edge, the spirit within this dangerous relic immediately began to wither, and the illusion instantly dissipated and shattered. Haida then opened the secret box she carried with her, placed the relic inside to isolate its spiritual essence, and meticulously completed the containment procedure.

"Right now, the only thing the Drowned Theater needs to deal with is this fire. We'll hand over the work to the fire department in a bit. They're probably the most efficient administrative unit under the city hall."

“We’ll go out and meet up with the rest of the team first, collect survivor testimonies, and then prepare to arrest Sinclair. He may not have been the mastermind behind this incident, but he was clearly aware of it and cooperated with the other side in the operation.”

Heda opened her eyes somewhat uncomfortably, then called out to Bebesa, who had been watching from the sidelines the whole time, and turned to leave the underground storage room without looking back.

"OK, all right……"

Upon hearing the nun's words, Bebesa snapped out of her daze and followed closely behind her.

In fact, Bebesa was still somewhat confused about the situation, completely bewildered. Where did that humanoid illusion come from? What was the essence and principle of [Skin Covering]? Why did the underground chamber suddenly erupt with hidden dangers...?

But before her not-so-bright brain could even begin to process anything, Sister Heda had already resolved all the matters on her own, leaving no room for Heda to interfere.

It wasn't entirely that Bebesa was unwilling to put in the effort. As a creature with feline characteristics, she was quite interested in this kind of activity that helped to expend energy... It was just that Haida's expression and state when she was beating that egg-shaped object with her bare hands were so focused that she was afraid that if she went over, she would also get punched.

That being said, the more terrifying Haida revealed about herself, the more Bebesa felt she had come to the right place, to the point that she became inexplicably excited.

The saber-toothed creations of the former sword-wielders revered power, and in this respect… she had yet to see anyone comparable to that nun. Whether the enemy was strange, malevolent, or ominous, once reduced to a pile of flesh and bone, they posed no threat whatsoever.

...even with a touch of humor.

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Chapter Forty: A Dusty Elegy

As the perilous encounter in the underground warehouse unfolds, the performance on the drowned theater stage gradually reaches its climax.

Act III.

In stark contrast to the previous somber and oppressive atmosphere, the black-haired girl and her dancers expressed a cheerful and bright emotion, like a summer breeze dispelling the clouds of sorrow, revealing the long-buried warm daylight amidst the gray haze, carrying an uplifting meaning.

Flowers and leaves bloom, wither, and then bloom again; these tiny creatures complete their short life cycle day and night.

During this period, countless towers built from sea stones sprang up, and the once desolate and remote fishing village ushered in prosperity at a visible speed, an unprecedented prosperity.

Accompanied by what could be described as romantic violin strings, a singer on the side of the stage sang a name in a melodious soprano voice.

—Mollion.

The horrifying thing has vanished without a trace; the fear of the full moon dream has faded away, like greyish-white sea foam drifting further and further away.

This was a lively and grand scene.

In the back row, Shitia sat quietly, maintaining the impeccable formal demeanor of a noblewoman of Hail, but not in a stiff and formal manner; rather, she gave off a rather relaxed and comfortable feeling.

No matter how meticulous the performance on stage may be, it will always carry a degree of exaggeration, to the point that it may appear slightly unrealistic to those experiencing it firsthand. Of course, this is an inherent mode of expression in this art form; everything is simply to evoke emotional resonance in the audience, and she has no intention of being overly critical or nitpicky.

Moreover, this scene did indeed trigger her long-forgotten memories.

In a daze, Xitia seemed to return to the beginning of a thousand years ago, to the time before the Cataclysm, to the study in the Morion Seastone Tower.

At that moment, she was idly flipping through the Six Secret Ritual Classics, her fingers clicking on the 5. A seagull, eyeing the dried fish snacks on her desk, was perched on the windowsill, flapping its wings eagerly.

The sounds of a bustling crowd drifted in from outside the window, accompanied by celebratory drumming.

At that time, the inhabitants of Morion would hold a festival on the first full moon of each year to extend goodwill and express gratitude to Hyel, who came from the Abyss.

Shitia was engrossed in academic research on esoteric rituals and funeral dirges, showing little interest in such events. However, her brother Hazmut personally presided over the ceremonies every year, not only to liven up the city but also to conduct some political meetings with the Geronsen court.

At that time, she only felt that it was noisy.

Looking back later, it seems that this was the last peaceful period before the outbreak of the devastating war.