The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

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Sigrid collected her thoughts and followed the butler's directions toward the restaurant. Although she still had many questions for Jeeves, he seemed to have no intention of giving a lengthy explanation and left without lingering.

The mayor's residence was unusually spacious. They encountered no hostile individuals, but also saw no other servants.

It seemed that the butler was the only one left behind.

Ascending the wooden staircase, the two arrived at the second floor of the mayor's residence. Using her sense of heat, Sigrid detected a massive, almost bloated heat source within the dining room… that was likely the mayor.

This creature's size likely exceeds the limits of a typical human skeleton; it's more akin to a rhinoceros or a bear than a human.

In addition, there is a human-shaped heat source in another direction on the second floor.

Considering it was only approaching dusk and there was still some time before the banquet began, Sigrid decided to explore the other side first.

While it may be somewhat impolite for a guest to wander around someone else's residence... as a realist, one sometimes has to abandon the gentle formalities and seek a more efficient and pragmatic path.

The heat source, which was of normal size, was located in a room at the end of the second-floor corridor.

This appears to be a ritual space, where one can glimpse religious statues used for sacrifices from afar, and the closer one gets, the stronger the smell of incense oil in the air becomes.

"..."

The person inside the room noticed the footsteps and suddenly turned to look at the door, meeting Sigrid's gaze directly.

And Sigrid was able to catch a glimpse of its appearance.

Judging from his gray-black cloth shirt and the ancient divine emblem on his palm, he was a priest.

The priest's face showed no signs of the scorching moonspots, but he was far from healthy. His eyes were sunken, his expression blank, his skin withered and shriveled, and the corners of his mouth remained slightly upturned, forming a stiff and strange smile.

A chilling smile.

This guy may have had hair before, but now only a few thin strands remain on his scalp, so fine that you might not even notice them if you don't look closely.

"Um... if I have disturbed you, I apologize. You can continue your meditation."

Sigrid kept her distance and spoke tentatively, while simultaneously reaching back to protect Flamel.

The other person's strange appearance was unsettling even to look at, but considering the precedent set by the butler, Jeeves, she still tried to negotiate, hoping to ascertain the other person's attitude.

However, the priest showed no sign of wanting to communicate upon hearing this; he simply strode forward with unwavering determination, his hostility blatantly obvious.

Just like the butcher silently receiving the livestock awaiting slaughter.

“Looks like I’ll have to make a mess of the mayor’s house before the dinner begins,” Sigrid murmured.

At the same time, she saw the priest's mouth moving, and an obscure incantation rang out quickly and softly.

Like mosquitoes and flies flapping their wings, the buzzing contains a certain rhythm.

The next moment, Sigrid threw her steel javelin first, piercing straight through the priest's right arm.

The shot was originally aimed at the head, but some unseen, pent-up force deflected it. However, the aftershocks triggered a secondary explosion, completely destroying the man's right arm and exposing the bone, flesh, and tendons at the wound.

The priest did not give up chanting despite the physical pain. Instead, the Venuska emblem engraved on his left palm emitted a spiritually flowing light, and a dazzling crimson light immediately locked onto Sigrid.

The spell from Vinushka—Ignite.

"Pong!"

Unexpectedly, blazing flames appeared on Sigrid's body, coiling and licking at her clothing and skin like serpents. If an ordinary person had been affected by the spell, they would probably be writhing on the ground by now…

But the craftswoman, who was gradually enveloped in flames, only paused for a moment before telling Flamel to take a step back to avoid being burned by the flames on her body.

How can one describe her feelings at this moment?

It was an absurd and humorous feeling, with the wit of watching a silent play, so much so that she inexplicably chuckled. Since becoming a fragment of the Primordial Sun, this seemed to be the first time someone had tried to harm her with fire.

“Unnamed priest, your magic doesn’t seem to be very effective.”

Before she finished speaking, the spiritual energy that had drawn the flames from her body had completely seeped into her skin, becoming fuel for the alchemical furnace. This level of light and heat was negligible for her furnace, but it was better than nothing, an extra supplement to the daylight.

Seeing that the other party had dispelled the fire spell in a way that he could not understand at all, the priest's cloudy eyes showed shock and confusion.

He hesitated.

Sigrid, however, had no intention of seeking reconciliation; instead, she was determined to take his life. To try to be friendly with a thug so eager to display murderous intent would be far too weak.

"tread."

She leaped forward, her hand already pressed against the priest's face.

The instant the two made contact, a burst of intense heat and light erupted from the priest's body.

In the blinding incandescence, its flesh is cooked through and then carbonized, its blood boils and then dries up, and its bones shatter and then turn into ash.

In an instant, all traces of his existence in the world were left on the scorch marks on the ground.

A faint, purplish light shone through the dust and ashes. Sigrid picked it up; it was a spherical gem with mottled colors. A subtle, fluid light emanated from it, possessing an unusual beauty.

"A solid object formed from the condensation of the soul, but its composition is much more natural."

Sigrid stared at the gem, while taking out the artificial prism she had searched in the woodcutter's house and comparing it briefly.

The spherical soul stone reveals a naturally formed haziness, as if mixed with some kind of impurity, the sediment of the living's emotions and thoughts. The artificial soul, on the other hand, is obviously much clearer, the difference between the two being similar to that between glass and raw quartz.

After confirming that there were no longer any threats nearby, she turned her gaze to the ritual chamber of the decaying priest.

In addition to religious ritual implements, this place also stores a number of ancient books.

Besides, the mayor's mansion also had many bookshelves, containing not only the Bible but also newspapers, magazines, enlightenment stories, and various social science books. If she hadn't been limited by time, she would have loved to stay there for hours.

But now dusk has fallen, the blood-red setting sun has completely sunk into the night, and it's time to go to the banquet.

With a touch of regret, Sigrid noted down the locations of the various bookshelves, planning to come back and browse them after dinner.

As for the mayor's attitude, that was not within the scope of Miss Craftsman's consideration... Moreover, the other party's intentions were still unclear.

……

The restaurant is located on the west side of the second floor of the mayor's residence.

Compared to its luxurious exterior, the Mayor's Restaurant is much more simply decorated and furnished. It doesn't resemble a banquet hall for large groups of guests, but rather a family-style dining room suitable for one person, with only one table.

Sigrid was also able to see the mayor's face.

This guy's physique was very much in line with the large heat source she had felt before; he was so muscular it was almost bizarre, and he occupied the entire dining table by himself. He wore a white and brown suit jacket, his facial features were loose and sagging, his skin was pale, he was bald, and the only thing visible on the top of his head were two huge horns.

Fortunately, the mayor was somewhat similar to the previous butler; although his appearance was unsettling, he did not show any aggressive tendencies.

"New guests, new arrivals, new departures."

"As it happens, you've arrived at my banquet, madam... please take a seat."

Sigrid nodded slightly, but did not immediately enter the banquet.

Maintaining the professional demeanor of a waitress at the Foggy Street Clinic, she first chose a seat near herself for Flamel before sitting down herself. If young Flamel hadn't clearly been unable to handle the situation, she would have preferred to stand by.

“Thank you for your invitation, Mayor.” Sigrid responded politely.

The mayor simply waved his hand, clearly uninterested in such pleasantries.

"Just passing the time."

At this point, he turned to talk about the current state of the old town. Although his tone was slightly slow, and he would occasionally pause as if he had forgotten his words, his overall train of thought was quite fluent, revealing the eloquence of a politician or gentleman.

“New guest, you should be able to sense that it’s much more peaceful here than outside… I’m also glad you’re not one of those crazed savages.”

“I think you’ve already seen those guys in the old town. Those idiots who only know how to fantasize about the past… their humanity has been reduced to nothingness; they’re like cockroaches scavenging scraps in the slums. How could I possibly have any meaningful conversation with such people?” Si

"What I want to talk about are things like poetry, music, and the art of cooking..."

Sigrid was eager to know about Presville's past, and the mayor seemed intent on revealing some details, so she listened quietly throughout.

However, watching such a horned, burly, and somewhat obese fellow openly express his contempt for the madmen is quite a novel experience. What is this? A hierarchy of contempt between rational and irrational monsters?

She finally couldn't suppress her long-suppressed thirst for knowledge and asked a question.

"Mayor, what exactly happened in this city?"

Upon hearing this, the mayor's collapsed facial features twitched slightly, making it impossible to discern his emotions or true thoughts.

"Madam, we are in the same situation, equally clueless."

"It's said that the Bremen army conducted some kind of research here—machinery, or perhaps spirits? Some say the moonlight scorched this land into this ghastly state, and that's how it's always been, according to the townspeople..."

He was clearly unconcerned about the disaster and fall of Presville, and after recounting what he had heard, he steered the conversation elsewhere.

"Golden-haired lady and this lovely girl, you haven't tried the food here yet, have you?"

“These are delicacies that only Préciville can taste. I have traveled from afar to carefully select them, just to savor these treasures. You know, food can be as exhilarating as painting or music.”

"Please use your imagination as much as possible."

After saying this, the town mayor showed the dishes on his plate.

It was a plate of grilled meat slices, about medium-rare, glistening with the reddish hue of myoglobin. But in reality, "meat slices" was a rather mild and general term... Before Sigrid could speak, little Flamel, sitting in the square chair, had already narrowed his eyes.

Clearly, her medical knowledge was more than sufficient to analyze the true ingredients of this dish. To be very precise, it consisted of two sliced ​​male primary sexual characteristics. Fortunately, judging from their size, they were not of human origin.

"Tell me, what comes to mind when you see this dish?"

The town mayor's questioning voice rang out softly.

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Chapter Fifty-Two: Delicacies and Feasts [The Last Sacrifice]

The mayor scratched the knife and fork in his hands, waiting for the other party's answer.

Sigrid pursed her lips slightly, looking at the two round slices of meat on her plate, her gaze thoughtful as she carefully considered her words.

The mayor just said to "use your imagination," meaning he doesn't want a specific, actual description, but rather an imagery derived from associations. As for what that refers to... that certainly needs careful consideration.

If you speak too directly, you might offend the other party.

After a few breaths, she spoke of what she had thought of.

"The sun, and the moon."

The mayor's narrow, scar-like eyes swept over Sigrid, as if he were re-examining her. His actions contained neither hostility nor anger, but rather a strange sense of appreciation.

"Day and night, alternation and rotation, beginning and end... Hey, I like your poetic ideas. Maybe it was the right decision to invite you out."

As he spoke, he had already put all the meat slices on his plate into his mouth.

Seeing this, Sigrid was somewhat relieved. Thankfully, the guy was only asking about the recipe and not recommending it to her. Otherwise, she would have had to risk a conflict by refusing him.

However, the mayor did not seem to intend to end the question and answer session, and instead proudly displayed another dish on his plate.

"Next up is this dish. What thoughts come to mind when you see it?"

It was a section of some kind of animal root, dark purple in color, with strange growths faintly visible attached to it.

If the former could barely be called a dish, then this thing in front of us is clearly the product of some kind of perverse taste. It seems to have been cooked for a long time, but it still retains the fresh shape it was when it was picked, which is somewhat unsettling just to look at.

At this moment, Sigrid realized that the mayor in front of her was probably not mentally sound either.

While he was better than the irrational madmen on the streets of the old town, he merely didn't display aggression. His inner thoughts had likely already degenerated and corrupted, tilting towards another extreme through alienation and distortion. 8

However, since he had already made up a story once, and the other party hadn't asked him to dine with them, it was just a matter of repeating the same process. (Wu)

"Ivory." Qi

After much deliberation, Sigrid finally chose the image she thought was most appropriate.

"Curved, upright, hard, imbued with the meaning of power and struggle, primal and pure... Oh, an interesting expression. Please forgive me, I thought you would use vulgar and superficial metaphors like sausages or pythons." - Lu

The mayor's asymmetrical, collapsed features struggled to reveal a hint of joy, as if he were basking in the recognition of his art. Simultaneously, he used his knife and fork to cut and tear the food on his plate, quickly swallowing it.

"In that case, please enjoy my favorite."

He displayed the last plate.

Among them was a golden-yellow mushroom, which looked like an Armillaria mellea or a chanterelle. This was probably the most normal dish the mayor had brought out. But there's one more thing to mention. Oh, it's a little embarrassing to talk about…

This mushroom is smooth and round, and looks remarkably close to a buttock shape.

Sigrid's eye twitched almost imperceptibly.

At first, she only had doubts, but now she was absolutely certain... that the people of this godforsaken place, Preshville, harbored a very strong primitive worship. Or perhaps it wasn't just a problem in Preshville, but rather that this was their general worldview.

Fortunately, she had accumulated some experience in dealing with such questions, so she was not as reserved as before when answering.

"Morning rain."

The mayor tapped his plate lightly with his large knuckles, his expression shifting as if he were repeatedly pondering the words.