Haida broke through the golden-red mad flames and helped up Fran, who seemed somewhat unsteady on her feet. Her body temperature was scalding; even touching her through clothes felt like touching a solid heat.
"Dr. Fran, how are you?"
Fran held her forehead, the corners of her lips twitching upward then flattening, as if struggling to suppress laughter.
"Don't come near me, dear Haida. I fear I might not be able to resist taking you apart. Right now, you are beautiful and delectable; every muscle contraction feels like the mystery of life confiding in me."
"Whew..."
She gasped, slowly steadying herself. Her amber eyes burned with chaotic, mad flames.
"Take this." As she spoke, an exquisite wooden incense box was tossed into Haida's hand.
Somehow, the Withered Crown's body had already fully solidified into reality. It slowly, heavily extended a hand, touching the window ledge of the director's office.
The figure of the bone colossus and the memories of the Great Plague began to overlap.
...
Lytic fungal spores drifted on the wind, floating in the air like willow catkins, omnipresent as far as the eye could see.
Although only an avatar of the Withered Crown had descended, it was certainly not something a single human could stop.
Even though Viola used her life as fuel to drive Drive Away Dust and Filth, this hemispherical, blazing light flickered like a candle flame, ready to go out at any moment.
But before that, with every step this colossal giant took forward, its body composed of lytic fungi and bones would disintegrate a portion.
The particles the Medicae Primus had set to expel... were the fungal spore dust scattered everywhere like falling snow.
The spore dust was not only a carrier for the 'spirit,' but also the main constituent matter of Its physical shell. If Its form could be shattered, perhaps there was a chance to banish It back to the void.
But Viola's body and psychic sense were clearly both nearing their limits.
Her breathing grew increasingly faint, the embers on her body slowly scattering. Crimson blood overflowed from the corners of her eyes and ears, leaving two tear tracks down her face.
The signs of psychic sense collapse were manifesting on her body in the most intense way.
"How long can I hold It off? Will it be enough for my colleagues and survivors to evacuate?"
Viola's eyes and ears were brimming with blood, so her perception of the outside world was entirely cut off. She only felt herself in dark tranquility.
Fear? Yes, there was some. Cold, silent death—who wouldn't fear it?
Confusion? Truly so. Before leaving, Teacher said she was going to conduct an important separation experiment. What exactly was she doing?
Regret? Also some... That fellow Ahern didn't even give her a proper wedding.
Soon, she could no longer even feel the wind caressing her face. The Withered Crown's mountainous body had already completely swallowed the Drive Away Dust and Filth domain.
The light went out.
Just then, an aged figure in gray robes, leaning on a hardwood cane, walked with light, unhurried steps to before the broken giant that was constantly repairing itself.
"The ultimate mission of a race is always continuation."
"Sometimes, individuals must even overcome the instinct for survival and march to their deaths... I just never thought someone so young would give her life before an old man like me."
Grantham let out a long sigh, really wanting to take out his briar root pipe for a smoke, but found he hadn't brought it.
"Only after fooling away those idealistic naive kids at the academy could I come here... After all, only the old captain needs to stay with the sinking ship."
He stroked his graying beard, a flicker of slyness in his aged gaze. It was as if he had returned to his unruly, reckless youth.
After completely swallowing Viola, the bone colossus crowned with living bones continued to advance.
The Withered Crown noticed Grantham's appearance but did not react in any extra way, as if the old man were merely ants at its feet.
And he was not surprised by this either. He simply unfolded in sequence the ritual arrays inscribed upon his own body.
They were three stacked White Cup first-category rituals, each containing profound forbidden knowledge, directly touching the secrets of thought and reality.
"[Hyperthymesia]." Broadening the mind, exploring the limits of human thought.
"[Erect the Dream Slumber]." Constructing a dream with one's own spirit, establishing a connection with the depths of the dream realm.
"[Mystic Stairway]." Briefly allowing one's will to distort reality.
Though the theory was still imperfect, it had to be reluctantly used. If the ritual failed, then self-destruct; it would still have some destructive power...
Simultaneously operating three first-category rituals, Grantham still had energy left for self-deprecation.
"I shall broaden the boundless realm of thought. I shall depict the lightless depths of dreams. I shall, in human form, reflect upon reality what is drawn in dreams."
"Silence is the highest form of contempt... Now, pay the price for it."
Dreams turned into a layer of illusory, ethereal gauze, enveloping the entire city block, even covering the body of the Withered Crown. Then...
It disappeared.
Through distorting reality, Grantham accomplished a "dream induction" targeted at a deity.
The Great Pioneer cannot touch reality, for It slumbers in the deepest depths of the sea of dreams.
...Only by placing the Withered Crown into Its dream could the two exist in the same dimension.
This was a phased achievement of Grantham's "final research," extremely unstable. It could only induce an individual into a dream. If he could complete it, he could truly free the Pure White Cup from the shackles of dreams, allowing it to touch reality again.
This ritual's provisional name was [Dream of Chens].
...
The dream, as gentle as gauze, gradually dissipated. Grantham also developed the symptom of bloody tears.
Even with [Hyperthymesia] broadening the limits of memory and thought, his spirit was on the verge of collapse under the massive information exchange.
Like a server pushed to its load limit.
He knelt on the ground, desperately maintaining the ritual arrays.
In an instant, the Withered Crown tore through the dream and reappeared, and Grantham collapsed completely to the ground.
Large portions of the pale white and deep green lytic fungus peeled away from Its body; the crown of living bones was nearly shattered, completely losing the imposing majesty of a divine avatar. It became like a pure evil entity of piled corpses.
Though the White Cup slumbers in dreams, suppressing an avatar was clearly easy.
But to kill it... required more time. No one knew the scene within the dream; perhaps it was just a little short.
"Old men getting things done... always prone to fall short at the last step..."
Grantham let out a light sigh, preparing to accept his fate. Like Viola's final moments, his vision and hearing had also completely disappeared.
A strand of cool, damp moisture rose to the tip of his nose, like dawn mist.
As the pale white mist surged in, Fran's figure gradually appeared.
She looked at the lytic fungus staining the entire city and the towering mountain of corpses before her. Her amber gaze held a trace of confusion and being lost in thought.
It was an expression she had never worn before.
If it weren't for the searing, blazing light of Drive Away Dust and Filth also illuminating "Fog Street," Fran might have needed several more months to wake up completely.
"No. The self-splitting experiment only lasted two years. How could the plague just happen to occur during this period? No..."
"That light... it's Viola. Where is she? I must bring her back..."
Though phrased as a question, she had already locked her gaze on the broken bone giant.
And at this moment, the past memories and the scene of Silent Hill overlapped.
The Withered Crown, heavily injured by [Dream of Chens], regained its completeness. The confusion in Fran's eyes disappeared accordingly, replaced by the smoldering of golden-red mad flames.
"A few corpses, a few grains of fungal dust, dare to call themselves kings and wear crowns?"
The former "Flamel" had paid a huge price to separate and suppress the madness that increasingly eroded her humanity.
Technique, memory, and power... And during the Great Plague, to fight the divine avatar that took her apprentice, she was forced to retrieve it, to the point of being completely occupied by mad thoughts.
Perhaps this was fate's mockery.
"The universe is rational."
Fran's voice sounded faintly.
"All absurdity, fallacy, obscurity... have traces to follow. I will strip away the secrets you hide behind agnosticism, take you apart..."
Within the grayish-white mist, the "Sanctuary Armor" power armor that had been quietly placed in the storage room suddenly slammed down onto the bone colossus. Its armor was decorated with swords and shields, books and skulls...
It didn't resemble an empty shell relying on "autonomous combat protocols," but rather a true Grey Knight Justicar.
It wielded a standard-issue halberd, savagely and fearlessly tearing apart the body of the giant before it. Even as lytic fungus burrowed into the armor's interior and the armor joints gradually slowed, it did not cease for a moment.
But to this avatar, this armor was far too small; even inflicted wounds would heal extremely quickly.
And just then, Fran moved.
Her pace was quick and light. She followed the gap torn open by the Grey Knight armor and stepped into the interior of this grand mountain of bones.
The mad flames burst into intense combustion upon contact with the lytic fungus, sending up golden-red pillars of fire from within.
Haida tightly closed her eyes, refusing to witness this confrontation that could shatter her psychic sense. She clearly understood that rashly stepping forward would be merely seeking death.
She opened the exquisite incense box. As the golden incense paste was dabbed on her fingertip, the clear fragrance of slightly bitter fallen leaves dispersed in the air.
Yvonne, clad in white wolf armor, materialized from golden runes.
"Dr. Fran is hunting quite the giant. The laws of your world are stable, but it seems equally restless..."
She looked at the bloated and enormous, mountainous body with some lament.
"Wait a moment..."
Yvonne's expression momentarily became somewhat odd, but it was hidden beneath her helmet, impossible to see clearly.
"The boundary between spirit and matter is confused. The present and past are actually manifesting simultaneously... This is a special 'otherworld' constituted by one's psyche."
Within moments, she detected clues from the strange operation of the laws.
"Teacher Haida, I said last time I'd bring a gift. Though now doesn't seem like the right time, please accept it first."
As she spoke, Yvonne placed two small Sacred Tear flasks into Haida's hands, one red, one blue.
"You can drink the blue one first; it can restore damaged psychic sense."
After giving brief instructions, Yvonne drew a "Godskin Peeler" that resembled a white spiral and pointed it at the giant ahead.
Ominous black flames rose from the blade, carving a huge dividing line on this body piled with bones. Then they entangled like a stubborn disease around the lytic fungus, burning fiercely.
"Although under 'Transdimensional Effect,' I can also unleash power sufficient to injure a deity, it can only be maintained for one strike."
"If there's still danger afterward, just draw the summoning runes again."
"Don't be sparing. Don't leave regrets... Take care."
Yvonne's form turned into golden glimmers of fallen leaves, scattering with the wind. Haida also opened her gray-chestnut eyes after drinking the blue tear.
Through the huge incision burned open by the black flames, she saw Fran moving with ease and skill within the body of this lofty mountain of corpses. The wildly entangled arms of the corpses were completely unable to touch her.
The talent she discarded along with the "madness" twenty years ago included one called [Legendary Thief].
Its effect needs no elaboration; one word, "steal," is enough to summarize.
And even though the later Fran had lost this talent, she could still silently steal small objects from people around her relying solely on muscle memory.
The Withered Crown finally felt anger. The lytic fungus on Its body began to multiply exponentially in massive amounts.
To the point that Fran could no longer remain spotless; dark green lytic fungal blemishes appeared one after another on her robes and skin.
Just as she was about to be enveloped and swallowed... she finally reached her desired position—the summit of the mountain of corpses.
Fran extended a hand and touched Its crown of living bones.
"...Your crown no longer belongs to you."
The moment [Legendary Thief] activated, the living bone crown disintegrated and collapsed, and Viola's figure was also within it.
But it was merely an empty shell; her soul had long since vanished. Was it consumed by that lofty crown, or completely burned up within the first-category secret art?
Even Fran did not know. All she could do was reach out and embrace Viola, who seemed asleep.
The body composed of bones and living husks collapsed in a heap, and she fell along with it. The now-lifeless lytic fungus turned into a fungal carpet, enveloping the two within.
The dust settled.
On the street, a deep green fungal carpet slowly unfolded, revealing the two figures. Fran slowly set down her student. Those always precise and steady hands were actually trembling slightly.
"Viola, Teacher kept her promise, you know... I brought you back."
Tap, tap, tap.
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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