As she left the now furnace-like alchemy room, Haida's breathing gradually stabilized, and her core temperature also dropped slightly. But she still needed rest and quiet recuperation.
"If she had a 'Melanochromic Control Sphere' and a 'Multi-lung,' these symptoms could be significantly improved... Can't let this slide, must treat her properly."
Looking at the now sleeping Haida, Fran, after restraining herself several times, finally revealed a mischievous smile.
"Greetings, members of the Secrets-Hunter Cult. It seems you need some assistance?"
A cheerful and steady middle-aged male voice sounded from the side of the corridor.
"Who are you?"
Vivian aimed her firearm at him, signaling him to keep his distance.
"This nun's hyperthermia symptoms are severe. Doctor of the Secrets-Hunters, are you skilled in treating this condition? If it's difficult, let our Sun-Forgers Cult's doctor handle it..."
But he completely ignored the threat of the gun muzzle, jogging all the way to Haida's side. Seeing Fran in her white coat, he paused for a moment.
"Please rest assured, sir. I am very good at handling this."
Fran responded while examining this somewhat rash man with interest.
He wore a set of cheap, hastily made knight armor and a full-face helmet, making his appearance completely unclear.
Though he claimed to be from the Sun-Forgers Cult... the Forging Sun pattern on his armor was even drawn on by himself. At first glance, he really seemed unreliable.
Out of courtesy and her own habit, Fran initiated the greeting.
"I am the external physician and also the medical examiner for the Secrets-Hunters. May I ask who you are?"
"Apologies, Doctor. I came in a hurry and actually forgot to introduce myself. I am Solm, a knight who believes in the sun."
As he spoke, Solm seemed to want to put on a reassuring smile. But the events in the Sun-Forging Spire had left his spirits rather low, and with the helmet on, others couldn't see anyway.
Fran nodded, then began to further confirm his identity.
"Which sun? The 'Forging Sun' or the 'Primal Sun'?"
"The sun that exists 'here.'"
Solm patted the hand-drawn sun emblem over his chest, his armor clanking accordingly.
The sound of Silver Wing Locust's high heels gradually approached.
She glanced at the limp Anderson on the ground, roughly guessing the sequence of events. In fact, after the previous Confidential Division agent reported that several people had entered the restricted area... she had anticipated this situation.
"Let me introduce. He is the envoy sent by the Sun-Forging Main Temple, 'Corona Rider' Solm. Usually, he wanders in the wild helping those in need. He was chosen, it seems, simply because he was relatively close to Norlington..."
After introducing the unfamiliar knight, she walked up to Vivian. She sighed lightly and rubbed her temple.
"Vivian... Briefly explain what happened."
"The Sun-Forgers Cult members all died due to some forbidden alchemy; Anderson was likely the mastermind. As for that alchemical creation..."
She looked towards the spot where Anderson and the False Sun Sword were, a flicker of doubt appearing in her eyes.
Anderson was still in place, but that sword that had been thrown on the ground... was gone.
Fran blinked imperceptibly; she had clearly noticed the sword's escape earlier.
But what did that have to do with her?
--
"July 27th. The Norlington branch of the Sun-Forgers Cult was recently reported to have suffered a major casting accident. Apart from two externally stationed patrol squads, all others inside the spire perished... Possibility of Evil Spawn intrusion has been ruled out. Details of the incident are still under investigation."
Fran put down the Norlington Evening News in her hand, then picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. The latte art foam clung to her lips like a white mustache.
"Something that happened days ago only reported today... The City Hall's efficiency isn't great..."
Although all the survivors inside the Sun-Forging Spire were now dead, and the "False Sun Sword" Sigrid had also escaped, the obvious forbidden traces in the alchemy room clearly couldn't be faked. Solm was a very easygoing person; after rigorously confirming the facts, he accepted this result.
After completing the handover with Silver Wing Locust, he began the reconstruction work. This knight possessed surprising talent and passion in this area.
Fran, somewhat listless, propped her cheek with one hand, looking out the window at the sunset glow.
Silver Wing Locust had returned too timely, preventing her from taking Haida back to Fog Street Clinic for further in-depth treatment. She could only perform emergency treatment under the watchful eyes of several people, finally handing her over to the nurses of the Medical Wing.
Oh, what a pity. She had even prepared for the next stage of modification... Ahem, treatment surgery.
--
In a deep, misty alley at a fog-drenched street corner, Sigrid curled up in a patch of shadow, wrapped in the tattered robes of the Sun-Forgers Cult.
Confusion and pain drove her nearly mad, but each time those negative emotions peaked... Fran's medicine would bring her emotions back to a stable equilibrium.
But she could feel the medicine's efficacy gradually fading. One day, the ever-growing madness would consume her.
Her memories told her she was Sigrid, but her reason told her... she was just a man-made alchemical product. A sword, an ephemeral illusion fabricated by fanatics pursuing solar radiance.
Sigrid could remember the voices and faces of every past colleague in the Sun-Forgers Cult, and also remembered the pain when Anderson pierced her chest with the ritual knife. No, that's wrong. The one sacrificed wasn't her; the real "Sigrid" was sacrificed.
The memories grew clearer; she even recalled the formula and alchemical process that forged her.
First. A shard of the "Primal Sun."
Second. 400g of high-purity refined Philosopher's Stone.
Third. A vessel with a soul and flesh of sufficient quality. And as many souls as possible who believed in the Forging Sun...
Anderson and Malz killed her, completing the final step of the alchemical process. Then they went to the absolutely safe library, waiting for her to harvest the souls of everyone in the spire.
Having transformed into the "False Sun," she broke through the library's protection but, after expending too much power, fell into a deep sleep, shedding light and heat, instinctively reforming into a human shape according to instinct, with her memories even stopping at a certain point in "Sigrid's" past life.
...Until discovered by that doctor.
"Mmm-hmm~ Thinking about me?"
Fran smiled, stepping slowly into the deep alley. Her thick-soled shoes made crisp echoes on the green bricks.
Seeing the newcomer sit down beside her against the wall, Sigrid looked somewhat stunned.
"Dr. Fran? But... how did you find me? I wandered for a long time to pass through that fog; this place shouldn't be within reality..."
Fran chuckled and sighed, patiently explaining.
"Dear Miss Sigrid, the place you are currently in is Norlington No. 13, Fog Street Clinic... which is my home."
"Because of you, almost the entire Fog Street has been sunny this week. Although clothes dry quickly, you've disrupted my precious biological clock... How will you compensate me?"
"Dr. Fran, what do I have left to give you now? Or... are you also coveting the power of the Primal Sun like Anderson? Then please take the shard of the 'Primal Sun' within me, end my suffering..."
Sigrid lowered her eyes, her expression despondent and gloomy.
Self-reproach born from conscience and existential self-doubt tormented her. Even with Fran's medicine providing slight maintenance, she was utterly exhausted.
"But its value to me is even less than a bag of cat food."
Fran wagged her slender index finger, not directly responding to Sigrid's plea.
"I am a doctor driven by interest; the only necessity in life is interesting patients. And you... fit my criteria for selecting patients quite well."
Fran was currently sitting beside Sigrid.
Though she maintained a polite distance, she could still feel the intense heat contained within the other's body. It bore a certain degree of similarity to her previous Frenzied Flame brand.
But what was more interesting was... during their first meeting at the Sun-Forging Spire, she was completely identical to an ordinary person, with no characteristics of an alchemical creation.
"You want to treat me?"
Sigrid was silent for a moment, then couldn't help but look up at this doctor who seemed to be forever smiling.
"But I am not the real 'Sigrid,' not an artisan of the Sun-Forgers Cult, not even human... I am just a fake that inherited her memories. Perhaps my very existence is a mistake, and dying is the best outcome."
"How nice. Only kind people face this kind of self-reproach... I've never been troubled by such things."
Fran looked at her with a hint of pity, then shifted the topic, starting to talk about something else.
"Miss Sigrid, do you know why I went to the Sun-Forging Spire alone that day?"
"Why?"
Sigrid followed Fran's lead, clearly somewhat curious about the reason for her sudden visit to the cult.
This mist-shrouded district existed in a narrow interstice between reality and a higher dimension, should be forbidden to ordinary mortals. Yet this doctor could appear here and claim this was her home...
So what exactly was she? Did she foresee the disaster at the Sun-Forging Spire?
"Hmm... Earlier, I promised to give Sister Haida a collection piece, a sword. But it was quite damaged, so I thought of taking it to the Sun-Forgers Cult for re-forging."
Fran's tone was gentle, narrating leisurely, like a psychologist soothing a patient's emotions.
Touching upon her familiar field, Sigrid's attention was gradually captured, and a faint glimmer returned to her dim eyes.
"That sword that blocked me? I could indeed sense the damage and brokenness then... But even in that state, it still possessed incredible physical strength. Is it a relic with a possession number?"
She herself was a highly talented artisan, possessing an almost instinctive interest and passion for castings like swords.
"Not exactly. That sword hasn't been recorded in any secret organization's ledger."
Fran began to further introduce the Executioner Greatblade, and Sigrid's expression became focused, briefly forgetting the philosophical questions about her own existence.
"The casting level of that sword is very high, and it uses technology I've never seen before... If I could study the actual object, perhaps I could think of something. Would Dr. Fran be willing to let me try?"
After some consideration, Sigrid made the suggestion to Fran.
Her wording was humble and precise because she wasn't actually very confident herself.
"It would be wonderful if Miss Sigrid is willing to help. After all, finding a sufficiently qualified artisan within Norlington isn't easy now."
Fran lightly clasped her hands, a hint of pleasant surprise seeming to appear in her amber eyes.
"First, come with me to Fog Street Clinic. Squatting in dark street corners isn't a good habit; you'll turn into a mushroom, you know?"
Fran stood up lightly, casually brushing the dust off her white coat. Then she extended her hand to her.
"Yes."
Sigrid took Fran's suture-lined hand, trembling as she stood up.
...
Fog Street Clinic, living room.
Sigrid sat on a soft velvet sofa, holding a cup of clear, bright-colored black tea.
She cautiously observed the entire clinic's layout and structure, like a newly arrived kitten or puppy, reserved and restrained.
The clinic's decor was mostly wooden, full of warmth yet exceptionally tidy, almost spotless. The air didn't smell like chlorine-based disinfectant as in conventional medical institutions but carried the faint scent of some osmanthus plant.
"This is black tea I got from a previous, not-so-friendly patient. Produced in the Sun-Forgers Cult's homeland, Attilan, with fermented and roasted flavors. Perhaps you'll like it?"
After brewing the tea, Fran casually placed an exquisite silk bag back in the cabinet, then gracefully sat down opposite Sigrid.
Sigrid took a small sip, her tense expression gradually softening and easing.
She wasn't worried at all about encountering the cliché of being drugged in the tea; there was absolutely no need. If Dr. Fran truly coveted her life, she wouldn't need to act only now.
Fran didn't ask how it tasted, as she had already gotten the answer from Sigrid's gradually relaxing expression.
She then took the Executioner Greatblade from her medical case, laying it flat on the table. Heaven knows how she fit such a large sword inside...
The sword had an ancient, profound aura, as if having weathered millennia. But at the same time, it carried an incredibly advanced design concept, as if a product of the future.
"The crossguard is missing. The blade was originally coated with some kind of hardened crystal, but most has flaked off... Inside the fuller are many incomprehensible, precision-engineered mechanisms, severely damaged."
Sigrid eagerly began examining the Executioner Greatblade. Her focus was almost reverent, even her breath subtly stilled.
After about half an hour, she snapped out of this trance-like state. Then she sighed despondently.
"Dr. Fran, I'm afraid my abilities are insufficient to repair it. The unknown metal composing the blade body could be reshaped using a 'Molten Gold Ritual,' but the internal machinery is far too complex... I can't even attempt to understand it."
Fran didn't show disappointment, seeming unsurprised by this. Instead, she began comforting Sigrid.
"That's normal, don't be discouraged. The technology contained within those machines is something even the scholars of the White Cup Cult couldn't understand."
Asking someone who hadn't fully grasped macro-level physics and had just broken through internal combustion engine technology bottlenecks to try understanding the disruption field generator on a power sword... was a bit too humorous to consider.
"We can change our approach, remove the mechanical structures inside the fuller. Bring everything back to the familiar domain of the Sun-Forgers Cult—alchemy and casting."
Sigrid pinched her chin, biting her lip somewhat eagerly, as if she already had a design plan.
"If we discard that part, then there is indeed feasibility for an attempt."
"But I need a room capable of setting up a Category Three ritual, and a small workshop supporting alchemy... Wouldn't that be somewhat inconvenient within the clinic?"
Clearly, she couldn't return to her personal forging chamber inside the Sun-Forging Spire; the entire cult was looking for her now. "Looking" was obviously too mild a term; "hunting" was more accurate.
Fran gave a shallow smile, clearly prepared for this.
"Don't worry. There are several compartments next to the operating room that can serve as ritual sites. As for an alchemy workshop... you can just use mine. Besides that, I will provide you with materials and technical support."
+++
T/N: Hey readers~! New Translator here! Before I say anything, I'd first like to thank the original author for creating this wonderful story. Without them, I wouldn't have the chance to share this adventure with you. I hope my translation does justice to their work, and that together, we can enjoy this story.
With that said, I'm happy to let you know I'll be uploading daily chapters. And for those who wish to support my work and gain early access, I've set up a Patreon where advanced chapters will be available.
[email protected]/PeakTL