When her recollection reached the point of interruption, fragmented scenes flashed through her mind.
Glistening blood, squirming intestines and flesh, and sacrificial beasts with their necks torn open and blood drained. These nightmare-like images were seared into her mind, impossible to shake off.
Elsa knew her condition worried her parents, knew her body had recovered, and that she should resume her long-abandoned studies... But at this moment, she feared everything in the outside world. She could barely muster the courage to step outside her room, let alone resume studying "natural history."
Amidst these conflicting emotions, she felt only torment.
At some point, strands of pale mist began quietly spreading through Elsa's room.
But she was currently in a daze and didn't notice this rather eerie phenomenon.
Scritch—
Elsa suddenly heard a faint sound and immediately turned her head warily towards its source.
It was a standing full-length dressing mirror.
Silver-plated base, its frame carved with exquisite, ornate patterns. The inexplicably rising ashen-white mist also seemed to originate from within the mirror.
She swallowed a mouthful of saliva and slowly directed her gaze into the mirror.
The mirror reflected a lovely face: fair complexion, delicate and regular features, glossy soft lips, and... a pair of captivating amber eyes.
But that wasn't Elsa's face.
Somewhat sluggishly, she blinked her right eye, and the person in the mirror immediately blinked her left eye. She then raised her left arm and wiggled her four fingers in sequence, and the mirror person raised her right arm, also wiggling four fingers.
There was no mirroring error... Even the amplitude of the tiny movements was identical to her own, perfectly matching.
Am I hallucinating again?
Elsa slowly got out of bed and walked towards the standing mirror, then saw the full figure of the person in the mirror shrouded in a misty veil. It was a woman in a grey gauze robe, with a slender, well-proportioned figure. A black suture line was visible on her neck.
She reached out to touch the mirror surface but found herself touching something soft... It was the mirror person's face.
As the silver mirror rippled, that person actually stepped out of the mirror!
Her steps were light and elegant, yet completely silent, like a feline moving through the night.
"Hmm!"
Elsa's first instinct was to call for a servant, but before this syllable could leave her throat, tendrils of Hand Reaches the Moon shot out and sealed her mouth.
"Hmm... The exit is actually a mirror? Coming out from such a creepy place would scare the patient. Don't make my job harder."
Fran, who had stepped out of the mirror, muttered a small complaint, then walked up to Elsa.
"Miss Elsa, I know you're very scared. This is a basic symptom of 'Panphobia,' completely normal. But if you choose to communicate with me rather than scream loudly, I can release the restraint."
"Blink your left eye once if you agree."
Elsa felt overwhelming fear nearly enveloping her, her emotions in such turmoil they seemed about to leap from her chest.
After roughly a few dozen seconds, she slowly blinked her left eye.
Fran glanced at her, then retracted the Hand Reaches the Moon back onto her wrist.
"Another one who can communicate. Strange. According to the traits of Panphobia, you should be completely closed-off to yourself right now."
As she spoke, she deftly opened her small medical kit. From among an assortment of lancets, circular saws, and such, she precisely retrieved a bottle of glucose solution and handed it to Elsa.
"Drink some water. The medicine will be easier to swallow."
While using Hand Reaches the Moon to block Elsa's mouth just now, Fran had also used the tendrils to open her mouth and slipped in a phosphorescent green capsule of Cure-Your-Ill 3000. Type II.
Before starting formal treatment, some measures to stabilize the patient's condition were quite necessary.
Elsa tightly pursed her lips, not reaching for the glucose bottle. But she did feel a foreign object sensation in her throat, shaped like a capsule...
Fran didn't mind her wary gaze, merely explained the situation in a coaxing manner.
"I can put that capsule in your mouth, and I can also pour this glucose solution in. The technique might just be a bit rough. My apologies in advance if I offend?"
"..."
After brief thought, Elsa took the glucose bottle and drank half of it in one go. It tasted not much different from ordinary water, but with a hint of slightly sweet, pure freshness.
Seeing she had taken the medicine, Fran casually pulled over a nearby leather armchair, sat down, rested her cheek on one hand, and quietly began to wait.
The capsule dissolved in her stomach. The liquid contents entered the intestinal mucosa, then permeated throughout her limbs via the bloodstream.
Elsa didn't notice anything unusual at first, but soon, her gaze held a trace of astonishment.
The wildly dancing chaotic thoughts seemed to have regained a normal rhythm and began to stabilize...
The world's gloominess also ceased its writhing.
A feeling of clarity and brightness arose in her mind. She seemed... normal?
Seeing Elsa gradually showing a joyful expression, Fran gave a professional caution.
"This is only the first course of treatment. Please don't be blindly optimistic about your condition. Just like when many depression patients suddenly feel excited, that could be a sign of shifting towards bipolar disorder..."
"Of course, my medicine has no side effects. At least during its effective period, your condition will remain largely stable."
Hearing the somewhat obscure terminology from Fran's mouth, Elsa felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
Professor Terence also often lectured on these not-so-easy-to-understand lengthy theories during natural history theory classes... Was this grey-robed young woman before her a White Cup Error-Purger? But the mirror-traversing method didn't seem quite like it...
"You know my name is Elsa... May I ask who you are?"
Cautiously, she asked what was perhaps her first sentence this month.
"I am a Mirror-Wiper of the Lamp cult, from the Veiled Assembly. You may call me Flamel."
Fran gave an assumed name without a trace of guilt.
When pretending to be identities other than a doctor, she didn't mind using other names... Besides, Flamel was her former name, so strictly speaking, it wasn't a false name.
"Alright, Ms. Flamel."
Elsa complied quite obediently and eagerly wanted to know what was happening with her body.
"Um... Did my father ask you to treat me?"
"No, but I am indeed commissioned to resolve the lingering hazards from the 'Birth-Feast Hall' incident."
Adhering to the Veiled Assembly's consistent enigmatic style, Fran gave an ambiguous answer.
"And your Panphobia is one of these. Although it's a purely psychological illness, without contamination... I must prevent it from evolving further."
"Since your condition has stabilized, we should proceed to the second course of treatment."
Saying this, she gathered the moth-patterned grey gauze of her skirt and slowly walked towards the bedroom standing mirror.
"Second course... What is that?"
Just as Elsa stepped forward to ask further, a hand covered with suture lines grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the misty, swirling ripples of the mirror.
---
Entering the mirror through the mist within the doorway, Elsa found this wasn't a mirror world completely inverted from reality... but a vast, boundless expanse of misty sea.
Pale mist coiled around her, surging as if alive.
"Where is this?"
She stretched out her palm, watching the mist hovering over it. She felt a sliver of fear, but also some curiosity.
"Shh... Don't ask anything. Because I won't tell you anything."
Fran placed her index finger against her lips, stopping this curious baby from further questioning.
After all, Elsa was a Norlington Central University student, practically half a White Cup disciple. And those who followed the White Cup were known for their insatiable thirst for knowledge and formidable practical ability... Best to nip her questioning impulse in the bud from the start.
Most importantly, young students who didn't know what a confidentiality agreement was generally couldn't keep their mouths shut... Fran didn't want her existence to become widely known. For her, maintaining the current state was more comfortable.
"Miss Elsa, do you remember where you were abducted?"
"At... an alley at the end of Sunderland Street, roughly behind the 'Mandala' tavern."
Elsa frowned, searched through her jumbled memory, then said with some difficulty.
Even with the mind-stabilizing medicine, her psychological trauma wasn't fully healed. Recalling that dark, shattered night still made her breathing rapid.
"We'll go there."
Having identified the target, Fran led Elsa through the misty veil.
After walking a short while, the two emerged from the shadows of an alley behind Sunderland Street.
It was early morning, and the most common overcast day in Norlington.
The morning sun was hidden behind the grey sky, not visible. This alley was already rarely frequented, let alone at a time when most people weren't yet awake.
"'Mandala' tavern's back alley. Looks like the place."
Fran brushed aside the pale mist entwined around her and quite casually looked around.
"Yes, it's... it's here... Ah..."
Elsa's voice trembled slightly, her face took on a greyish hue, and her condition visibly deteriorated. She abruptly raised a hand to cover her mouth, the muscles in her throat spasming, as if about to vomit immediately.
"Ugh..."
She leaned against the wall and began dry heaving. But having eaten little, her stomach was completely empty... resulting in only continuously vomiting acidic fluid mixed with saliva.
Elsa felt an immense chill envelop her. Everything around her seemed impure and malicious. She instinctively wanted to curl up, to cry loudly, to leave this place.
Her arm against the wall went weak. Just as she was about to collapse, an unusually warm arm steadied her.
It was a lady in a maid's uniform, with hair and eye color like molten gold, bearing a dazzling brilliance.
Such a beautiful maid, like the sun... When did she appear?
Though somewhat puzzled, Elsa had no spare energy to think about this now.
She could feel the rationality propped up by the medicine being eroded step by step. Her fear of everything was stirring, gradually approaching the critical point of mental breakdown.
"Dr. Fran, what should I do next?"
Sigrid supported Elsa, turning to ask Fran.
Although she often served as an assistant at the Fog Street Clinic, this was her first time formally participating in a house call, so she inevitably felt a bit at a loss. Compared to forging, human bodies were far too fragile, easily damaged...
"The Mandala tavern's back door is right here. Let's carry her inside first."
Fran raised her wrist. The black tendrils of Hand Reaches the Moon immediately slipped into the keyhole of the door, prying the mechanism inside.
With a crisp click from the lock, the tavern's back door opened.
Sigrid lifted the semi-conscious Elsa and effortlessly carried her inside. Her movements were stable and fluid, completely unlike carrying a living person.
Watching this scene, Fran couldn't help but narrow her eyes.
Oh, sometimes she really envied Sigrid and Haida... being able to calmly complete such heavy physical labor.
Gathering her thoughts, Fran also walked into the Mandala tavern's back door.
Behind the door was a storeroom permeated with a dusty smell.
Though there were signs of people entering and retrieving goods, it seemed not to have been formally cleaned for a long time. At least, no one would come in for a short while.
As Fran casually closed the door, the entire storeroom plunged into murky darkness.
Sigrid found a relatively wide wooden table and placed Elsa on it. Then she extended an index finger, its tip glowing with a white-hot radiance, dispelling the gloom within the room.
"Dr. Fran, she took your medicine. Why is she still having such a strong reaction?"
Seeing Elsa curled up on the wooden table, constantly trembling, Sigrid couldn't help but feel some surprise.
She remembered after taking that green capsule before, her mind was in a strongly stable state. Its effects were potent and long-lasting, not completely fading even after hiding in Fog Street for days.
Fran then quite patiently explained to the maid, like a mentor instructing a new student.
"Because you took Type I. That included some research achievements from the previous generation Medicae Primus, with higher technical content. Of course, Type II's effect isn't bad either... It's just your etiologies are different."
"And, Sigrid, please call me 'Flamel' for now."
Although Elsa was currently semi-conscious, since Fran was using an alias, she should address her by that name.
Sigrid realized her mistake in address. She couldn't help but lower her head with a hint of apology, her hands clasped in front of her.
+++
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