"I'm sorry, Ms. Fl... Flamel."
"No need to mind."
Fran waved her hand, not dwelling on this small issue. She had only intended a brief reminder.
Their attention quickly returned to Elsa.
"Miss Elsa's condition was very stable both in the bedroom and within the Mist Within the Door. How did it become what we just saw once she was outside?"
Sigrid was somewhat puzzled by Elsa's sudden worsening condition.
Clearly, something had triggered the fear in her heart... But the alley just now was clearly empty, with nothing there.
What was present in the alley but absent in her bedroom? It seemed impossible to find.
As an excellent doctor, the diagnostic experience of observation, auscultation, inquiry, and palpation was also indispensable. After a period of observation, Fran had gained a relatively deep understanding of Elsa's condition and its etiology.
"Because Elsa's Panphobia is more unique compared to typical cases. In terms of her symptoms, it actually more closely resembles 'enclosed space dependence.'"
"Look, after returning to an enclosed space, her condition has improved, hasn't it?"
Hearing this, Sigrid looked at Elsa and found her previous distressed, near-drowning state had dissipated. Her disordered breathing had also returned to calm, as if she were asleep.
Even carrying a trace of inexplicable peacefulness.
"Huh... Really."
Without using additional medication, merely changing the environment had alleviated Elsa's symptoms?
Although Sigrid was an artisan who studied forging techniques all day, she also understood how tricky psychological illnesses and mental trauma were.
Even if handled by the White Cup Cult, which specialized in thought, in the vast majority of cases, they could only use the most crude yet most effective "oblivion therapy."
Fran then unhurriedly explained her medical philosophy to her.
"When treating each patient, the first priority is naturally to alleviate the most prominent symptoms. After that... one must trace the root cause, find the trigger of the illness, and then apply the appropriate remedy."
"If it's an endogenous hormonal secretion issue, make adjustments at the genetic and pharmaceutical levels. If it's spiritual contamination, try to purify and separate it through secret rites. And if it's some kind of traumatic stress, one can attempt desensitization."
Sigrid followed her train of thought and made a guess based on her own known information.
"Miss Elsa's 'Panphobia' originated from the Birth-Feast Hall in the drainage system. Meaning... it was the experience of being trapped within the flesh-and-blood cradle that left a psychological shadow on her?"
"Very close."
Fran deftly shook her index finger.
"But there's still some distance from the real situation... The flesh-and-blood cradle didn't leave her with a 'psychological shadow,' but an extremely strong 'pleasant impression.'"
"Dear Sigrid, please imagine this. You close your eyes now, enveloped by something warm and soft. Sweet, hot currents flow over your entire body; every pore feels delightful and comfortable. A melodious lullaby lingers in your ears, carrying infinite love."
"You don't need to think, nor need to be entangled in worldly troubles and worries. You only need to enjoy the beauty and peace of life..."
Her description was calm and gentle, yet it made Sigrid feel a trace of inexplicable horror.
"That is..."
"That is the mother's womb."
Fran gave a concise and decisive answer.
"So, what Elsa fears is the entire 'world outside the womb'!"
Sigrid raised a hand to lightly cover her lips, a flash of understanding in her eyes.
Elsa's bedroom and the extremely low-visibility Mist Within the Door could both be subconsciously perceived as enclosed spaces akin to "the womb," thus not triggering her illness. But arriving in the alley was undeniably the "outside world."
Extreme pain and extreme pleasure possessed dangers of equal degree.
The former could leave irreparable wounds; the latter could strip all beautiful things of their original sensation. Just like an addict tainted by opium; even tasting the finest delicacies again would only feel like chewing wax.
"So that's how it is..."
Accompanying Fran on house calls gave Sigrid a feeling similar to attending forging classes with the old artisan when she was a child. How to describe it... She always learned many very impressive things that seemed completely useless to her.
"Cough, cough."
Elsa gave two light coughs, her eyelids slightly lifting, about to regain consciousness again.
Seeing this, Sigrid looked at Fran as if seeking approval.
After receiving her consent, Sigrid's body gradually reshaped with white-hot radiance, transforming into an exquisite and slender ceremonial sword.
Fran took hold of the hilt, lightly swung it a couple of times to dissipate the heat, then concealed it within the skirt-like moth-patterned grey gauze, fastening it at her waist.
Yes, the reason Sigrid hadn't appeared earlier at the Royce mansion... was because she was being carried close to Fran's body in her sword form. Undeniably, this was the most convenient disguise method.
Elsa opened her eyes, looked around, and found herself in a storeroom carrying the scent of dust.
Gloomy, deep, and somewhat narrow—not a place where good things seemed likely to happen. But unexpectedly... she wasn't really scared.
"Ms. Flamel, did I faint just now? I thought I saw a maid with golden hair. Was that a hallucination..."
"Yes, it was a hallucination."
Fran nodded slightly, quickly moving past this topic.
"Through a period of observation, I have already come to understand your etiology. We can now begin the second course of treatment: desensitization and trauma recovery. Elsa, do you remember what happened before you were abducted?"
"Hmm... I attended a secret gathering before."
Elsa pursed her lips, her two hands clasped together, somewhat nervously rubbing them.
"Because I promised them confidentiality, I can't tell you the specific content... I'm very sorry."
"No matter. That shows you have good contractual spirit. And I'm not interested in prying into patients' privacy."
Fran smiled and waved her hand to indicate she didn't mind, then took out a brass pocket watch from her sleeve to check the time.
Soundlessly, an invisible psychic beam struck Elsa's neck.
"Miss Elsa, I'm going to ask you a few questions next. You can choose to remain silent if you don't wish to answer."
"First, the name of that secret gathering is?"
"..."
Elsa didn't expect Ms. Flamel's question to be so direct. For a moment, she was stunned, then silently shook her head.
Star Chart Research Society.
Due to the effect of the Swaying Heart-Clock, the most direct and strongest thought flashing through her mind at this moment would be directly exposed before Fran's eyes.
"The gathering was held at the Mandala tavern, correct?"
Another moment of silence.
"..."
Held every half-month in a private room on the tavern's third floor. The rooms are alternated in sequence according to the cyclic number '142857'. Last time it was room No. 2. Why does Ms. Flamel keep asking even though she knows I won't answer?
"If I'm not mistaken, the organizer of the gathering is a secret cult disciple who possesses secret art knowledge?"
Fran tilted her head slightly, her amber eyes holding a somewhat intriguing smile.
"I'm sorry, I really can't say..."
Accompanying Elsa's difficult evasion was her inner voice.
The host 'Nicholas' has always been mysterious. However, according to other participants, he is a star-gazing scholar who holds a certain rank within a secret cult, possessing a spirit of the Enlightenment Phase.
After obtaining the information she wanted, Fran didn't continue to pressure Elsa. She smiled and lightly clapped her hands, concluding this Q&A session.
"Hmm~ In that case, I won't force the issue further."
"Thank you for your understanding."
Seeing Fran didn't continue questioning, Elsa couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
Fran stepped forward, lightly touched the storeroom's doorframe. Grey-white, empty mist immediately filled it.
She led Elsa into the mist, then gave instructions for matters after returning home.
"Now, there are still a few days until the mid-month gathering of the Star Chart Research Society on the 15th. Until then, stay peacefully at home. You can move around outside your bedroom more, but don't leave the mansion, and it's best not to get too close to places like windows."
"Hmm..."
Elsa nodded obediently, then sensed something wasn't right.
"Ah! Ms. Flamel, these are details only participants would know... How do you know?"
Looking at the utterly astonished Elsa, Fran merely maintained her nearly eternal slight smile, her amber eyes clear and calm.
"Because I am a Mirror-Wiper of the Veiled Assembly, adhering to the Lamp's illumination, peering into the elusive currents of fate..."
"I know everything."
---
Passing through the rippling, misty veil of the mirror, Elsa returned to her bedroom. The mysterious Ms. Flamel was nowhere to be seen, as if she had never appeared.
The events of today felt too illusory, lacking a sense of reality. So much so that her legs felt somewhat weak; walking on the wooden floor felt like floating on wisps of cloud.
In a somewhat dazed manner, she looked back at the full-length mirror. Inside, besides her own face, there was nothing.
Elsa lightly touched the mirror surface; her fingertips encountered a hard, cold sensation.
She even began to wonder if her condition had worsened, that everything she just experienced was actually a hallucination conjured by her imagination. But the no longer disordered thoughts in her mind were undeniable; she truly felt a great improvement in her mental state.
The shadow enveloping her no longer reeked of bloody, fishy odors; the folds of the quilt no longer resembled squirming intestinal cavities. Reality had already returned to normal.
"Lamp cult Mirror-Wiper, Veiled Assembly..."
Elsa murmured softly, her thoughts beginning to flow uncontrollably.
As a Norlington Central University student, half a White Cup disciple, the pursuit of knowledge had almost become her instinct.
Although she had almost been used as a sacrificial beast for attending a secret gathering... but as the saying goes, it's easier to change rivers and mountains than one's inherent nature. A habit cultivated over years could not be changed overnight.
At this moment, she couldn't help but feel intense curiosity about Ms. Flamel's identity.
As the young lady of the Royce family, even if only from a collateral branch, Elsa was not unfamiliar with the Four Major Cults.
But precisely because of this basic understanding of the secret cults, she felt puzzled by Flamel's appearance.
The disciples of Lamp and Moth were all known for their inscrutability and rarely intervened in ordinary affairs... Moreover, this incident itself involved both the Secrets-Hunters and the White Cup Cult. Normally, they should have avoided involvement.
Therefore, there must be some important reason why that Mirror-Wiper would take a certain risk to come to the Royce mansion to try to cure her at this time.
Elsa turned on the night light by the bedside table, sat on the bed, and, following this line of reasoning, began to make hypotheses step by step.
"There were 15 victims placed in the flesh-and-blood cradles like me. Did she only choose me, or has she visited each one? If the former, it means there's something special about me..."
Although her memory was somewhat fragmented, she remembered there were also university students among those sacrificial beasts; she wasn't particularly special.
Could it be because of her Royce family status? But an ordinary collateral branch family, logically, also shouldn't attract excessive attention.
Something like the main house of the Meredith family would be more reasonable.
However, even an old-line noble with deep and ancient roots like the Merediths could only show weakness and lie low under the pressure of the Secrets-Hunter Cult. Rumors said there had been a secret war unknown to the world between the two sides, and this confrontation... ultimately ended with the latter's overwhelming victory.
Who would have thought that the once arrogant and wild Grey Wolf could now only wag its tail and beg for mercy at the hunter's feet?
Elsa didn't really understand the Meredith family's peak era either, as their decline had already begun before she could remember.
It was just that her father often spoke of these past events, aside from sighing with emotion, also with some schadenfreude...
After careful consideration, Elsa determined one point.
She had nothing special about her.
The main reason she survived in the Birth-Feast Hall was thanks to the Goddess of Fate's protection. That terrifying monster in the blood-red leather robe seemed to consider her "high-quality," thus storing her in the flesh-and-blood cradle.
Those he deemed inferior—the unfortunate ones—were without exception torn open at the throat on the spot and drained of their blood.
Meaning... the reason Ms. Flamel sought her out should be related to the secret gathering she attended before being abducted.
According to Mr. Nicholas, the organizer of the Star Chart Research Society, the original intention of establishing this secret gathering was to exchange mystical knowledge and confidential intelligence, and to provide whatever assistance was within their means to those who aspired to step into the extraordinary.
Sometimes, participants also traded other valuable things, like relics or ancient texts... Looking at it this way, being targeted by a cult was quite normal.
It was just that she hadn't expected the first to approach wouldn't be the Secrets-Hunters or the Error-Purgers, but a Mirror-Wiper from the Veiled Assembly.
+++
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