The eccentric doctor never makes a misdiagnosis!

Page 81

Haida did not take up the topic, nor did she address Yaheng as her father. Instead, she directly asked him why he had appeared there.

He didn't appear when the servants in the cup arrived, so why is he here at this time?

Yaheng glanced at the still writhing pale corpse in the [Dissolving Evil] array, then turned his gaze back to Haida.

"I'll deal with the last remaining problem. But... you've already done my job."

Haida frowned slightly, feeling that her thoughts, which she had finally begun to clear up, were starting to become chaotic again after Yaheng's few words.

"What did you mean when you said 'they've already left' at the beginning?"

"Now that the Crimson Cup Cult has gotten what it wanted, it has no reason to stay here."

"..."

Yaheng's words silenced everyone. The surroundings were quiet; even the dripping of water from the metal pipes seemed clear and loud.

"Like the priest who split into three, the 'drinker' also has three bodies. After losing two, the only remaining servant in the cup escaped my pursuit and has now returned to Atilan."

After speaking, Yaheng gently pressed down on the brim of his hat and walked once again into the shadow cast by the pillar.

"Hydal, you have completed my hunt. According to the commandments, I will share a spoil with you."

Before she finished speaking, an old leather book emerged from Haida's shadow.

By the time she picked up the book, Yaheng's figure had already completely disappeared into the deep shadows.

The interplay of light and shadow, with only the lingering chill in the wind proving that he had been here.

"call……"

Only after confirming that Yaheng had left did Rosalie dare to breathe a little louder. Just from the sweep of his gaze, she felt a profound sense of death, as if her head had been severed from her body. It was real and intense, like the cold breath of death brushing past her ear.

She reached up and touched the back of her shirt; it was already soaked with cold sweat.

Just then, the communication device hanging on Haida's earlobe broadcast a message: the eleventh survival confirmation had begun.

"The first team is currently on standby. Secret order: Elderberry."

"The second team is currently on standby. Secret order: Amaranth tricolor."

……Four

After five more rounds, the order of the secret orders returned to its initial state. No other errors occurred except for the absence of the fourth group. III

After a brief moment of contemplation, Haida gave the order to end the mission.

"The Funeral Minister has updated the orders. This purge has been confirmed as complete... All teams, regroup along the original route and return to base."

"Terminate Secret Order: Rose of Sharon".

-

The next morning, at the Foggy Street Clinic.

Night faded, and the stars dimmed. A sliver of the rising sun hung on the edge of the sky, its shimmering light filtering through the thin mist.

"Ding--"

As the bell of the Pokémon flute rang out, Fran, dressed in thin pajamas, rubbed his eyes and lifted the covers, sitting up from his soft, warm, and alluring bed.

Almost at the same moment, the sound of knuckles knocking on the door also rang out.

"Boom, boom, boom"

Clearly, Sigrid had strictly followed Fran's instructions from the previous night, and came to wake her up as soon as the time was right.

Fran quickly straightened his clothes, which had become disheveled due to his unseemly sleeping posture, put on a shirt and a white coat, and then left the bedroom.

Sigrid was right outside the door, her hands hanging down in front of her abdomen, her maid's dress neat and appropriate.

"Dr. Fran, Sister Heda has arrived."

Sigrid had originally planned to wake Fran at noon so she could rest a little longer. But since Sister Heda was visiting... she had no choice but to wake her on time.

"Okay, I get it now."

Fran raised an eyebrow with a rather charming air, a subtle, intriguing glint in her amber eyes.

She looked toward the front hall, where the nun was sitting upright on the sofa, holding a grayish-yellow leather book in her hand.

Heda's visit meant she had already reached a conclusion regarding her warning. It happened faster than she expected… Was it a sudden inspiration, or had someone offered her some kind of help?

Good day, Dr. Fran.

Seeing Fran, whose feathers were disheveled and who looked sleepy, Haida pursed her lips. She realized she had arrived too early and might have disturbed Fran's rest...

"Hmm~ Good day."

Fran responded with a brief greeting and slowly sat down on the sofa opposite Haida.

"A recent study has reached its final stage, so I stayed up a bit late. Although I didn't get a full eight hours of comfortable and healthy sleep, it's really nothing to worry about..."

Although her tone was as gentle as ever, and a familiar smile played on her lips, Haida could clearly hear a deep sense of resentment in her voice…

"……Feel sorry."

Adhering to the hunters' consistent principle of distinguishing right from wrong, Haida readily admitted her mistake.

Fran nodded slightly, accepting the apology.

Sigrid had already brewed two cups of coffee and placed them quietly and steadily on the coffee table in front of the two of them.

"Geisha from the Falcha Islands, a gift from a previous patient. It's quite sweet, with tropical notes of flowers and fruits. I hope you'll enjoy it."

Hmm... was it really a "gift" given by someone else?

For some reason, Haida suddenly recalled the scene of Fran taking the silk tea bag from Lady Solani's cupboard.

Her movements as she took the reward were fluid and natural, almost as if it were a natural progression, as if everything was meant to be this way.

"Thank you."

With a nagging feeling of unease, she took the teacup and sipped it. Heida had never doubted Fran's taste in cooking and beverages.

It has a smooth, creamy texture with a rich floral aroma, a complex flavor profile, and a subtle sweetness. Although Haida usually drinks extra-strong liquor to stay alert while working, she doesn't actually like overly strong bitterness.

"It's delicious." Putting down her porcelain cup, Haida sincerely praised it.

"Just some small collections, nothing to brag about."

Fran looked at Haida with interest, then crossed her fingers, straightened her expression slightly, and steered the conversation to the main point.

"Haidah, about that little reminder I gave on a whim earlier... I guess you already have the answer?"

"Hmm." Haida nodded, then showed her the book that Yaheng had given her.

—The Skin Text: The Face of the Red-faced

Although it is not the original text, it is an ancient rubbing with the same format, made by sewing together the skin of a deceased priest after it has been tanned.

"Great Mother, the mountains and ridges are her offspring, birth and consumption are due to her. Satisfaction and pleasure weave her skin and flesh; pregnancy and reaping, pain construct her heart and marrow."

Haida recited the ancient text of her religion in a clear and solemn voice.

"The sundial's shadow marks her eternal 15-minute pause; the three ends of the Holy Grail represent her initial, primordial state. Remember this in your hearts, and feast upon it. Do not overstep your bounds, do not falter, you foolish disciples who presumptuously claim to be descendants of her bloodline..."

After reading the two paragraphs, Haida paused slightly, raised her hand, and closed the Book of Skins.

“‘The shadow of the sundial needle is forever fixed at fifteen’ means that the sacred time she controls is 3 p.m., which is 3 p.m..”

"This also echoes the origin of the 'three ends of the Holy Grail' being shaped for her, and her emblem is an inverted triangle in the shape of a cup, from which we can know... that her holy number is three."

"Correct! A flawless conclusion."

Before Haida could finish speaking, Fran's applause rang out. She had a smile on her lips and looked quite enthusiastic.

“I only did a little bit of work. If it weren’t for the documents in this scripture, my conclusions would be much more rudimentary.”

Haida waved her hand modestly.

Knowing the sacred number and sacred time of this deity, the many unusual phenomena that had occurred before were thus explained.

For example, why are there exactly 15 survivors remaining in the cradle of the birth banquet hall? Why does the high priest split into three bodies? And why does the first type of ritual, "Summoning the Drinkers," require three high priests to sacrifice themselves at three nodes with extremely large array spans? ...

"Don't belittle yourself, Sister Heda. Accepting praise appropriately can effectively improve a tense mental state, you know?"

Fran lifted the handle of the porcelain cup and drank the remaining coffee in one gulp. Then, she stuck out her pink tongue and licked the creamy froth off her lips.

"You noticed something was off a long time ago, didn't you?"

"Even if the Red Cup High Priests were truly fanatical believers unafraid of death, they shouldn't be so easily consumed. Besides 'faith,' is there another reason why they so willingly sacrifice themselves?"

"Now, the answer is obvious. The reason they don't fear death is because another version of themselves still exists."

Heda agreed with Fran's statement.

Fanatics are cunning and vicious, and have abandoned all common-sense morality and principles; they cannot be described by the simple stereotype of being "fearless of death."

"But... Haida, how did you obtain this Book of Skin? Was it a spoil of war from the purge mission?"

Fran was slightly curious about this.

Such original rubbings are extremely rare; the high priest might possess one, but he wouldn't necessarily carry it with him at all times...

“Not really. I encountered the third body of the ascetic priest in the sewers, and after I dealt with him… my father appeared and gave me this book of skin-like teachings.”

As Haida described the purge mission, a complex expression appeared in her gray-chestnut eyes.

"Oh, the Funeral Master is back so early. It seems he probably only managed to catch a servant in a cup..."

Fran gently stroked the black stitches on his neck, lost in thought.

-

Chapter 82 Experimental Prototype

Haida listened quietly, a complex look flashing across her gray-chestnut eyes.

To outsiders, Haida, as the daughter of the Minister of Funeral Rites, should be the one who understands Yaheng the most.

But in reality, she knows very little about her father... From the time she was born until now, the total time they have spent together is probably less than a year.

Although she had witnessed Yaheng behead a high priestess dancer during the Plum Moon Festival, that was the level of skill expected of a chief hunter and not surprising. But the fact that he could hunt down the servants of the cup with such ease on his own... truly astonished her.

After all, they were divine servants who descended through the first type of ritual, the "summoning of the drinker."

Having shed its mortal form and acquired divinity, even with its physical form still unstable upon entering the material world, the servant within the cup displayed overwhelming power. Had Iveni not used Origin Magic to annihilate it in one blow, the Blood Tree it ultimately formed would likely have buried everyone present.

Such an existence vanished silently in the Norrington sewers...

It's no wonder that pagan priests who associate with evil offspring always refer to the Funeral Master with fear, calling him "forbidden" or "monster."

Fran smiled slightly, as if she had already guessed Haida's thoughts. 6

“Don’t be too surprised, Sister Haida. A servant of the cup who has just entered the material world is actually very fragile. Before the transformation of his ‘heart’ is complete, if the White Cup Order is willing to bombard the entire block, there is a high probability that he can be destroyed.”

"Yes. His physical form is indeed very unstable, much more fragile than I imagined."

Haida, having experience assassinating servants in the cup, possessed some expertise in this area.

"But...in the end, one of the servants in the cup managed to escape, and the Crimson Cup Cult's objective was achieved."2

With a hint of regret, Haida lowered her eyes and sighed softly.

If the servants in the cup are so dangerous even in their most vulnerable state, if they were given enough sacrifices and enough time to complete their transformation... they might grow to a point where they are difficult to manage in the future.

Fran picked up a slender silver spoon between his fingers and gently tapped the rim of the porcelain cup.

"Their plan began during the Great Plague and was executed without regard for the cost. Aldermen, priests, and even servants of the cup could be sacrificed when the time was right. Such a grand scheme naturally required a corresponding scheme."

Although he didn't know who the mastermind was, Fran admired the other party's crazy yet calm gambling mentality.

If given the chance again, she would like to play a game with that person.

Fran then leaned back, pressing all his weight onto the plush cushions of the sofa, looking languid and comfortable.

"There's no need to worry too much about it. Even if the 'Servants in the Cup' fully adapt to this world, it's not unmanageable. After all, every cult has a Type I ritual... it's just that the costs vary."

"Ah."

During her years of lingering in the borderlands, Haida witnessed demigods and true gods, as well as her "student" Ivenne ascending the throne with the magic ring... This made her threshold for acceptance extremely high.

While the potential consequences of the escape of divine servants should not be underestimated, there is no need to panic.

"Dr. Fran, what have you been busy with lately? Is there some important research project you're working on?"

From the moment they met, Haida noticed Fran's slightly bluish eye circles and remained quite concerned about them.