Chapter 152: Healing

A few days later, inside the Monastery.

The Apprentices of the Monastery had all been sent out to visit every village and every field, to converse with every commoner they encountered.

‘You must see with your own eyes, experience for yourselves, and finally derive the laws that ought to be.’ Oscar said so.

And so, the apprentices left the Monastery.

But in truth, the reason he said this was because he and the three scholars were preparing to help Knight Wolf remove his Armor.

These apprentices were merely ordinary people—not even Monks—so if they were made to watch, perhaps the Monastery wouldn’t have a single apprentice left by the next day.

This was the central hall of the Monastery. Like the Church, it had the Lord’s Throne and the Sacred Cross, but unlike the spacious hall of the Church, it lacked those pews.

Beneath the Sacred Cross, at the center of the hall, there was a wooden bed. On the small table beside the bed lay tweezers, clamps, and other tools.

Rather than medical instruments, these looked more like torture devices.

Carved onto the wooden bed were patterns, and lying flat atop it was Knight Wolf.

“I feel a bit unwell.” said Rudolf, one of the three scholars.

He wore a cross around his neck and held in his hand an extremely sharp curved blade. The blade was narrow, unfit for combat slashing, suitable only for cutting.

“Feeling unwell is normal. After all, Knight Wolf is now in a state of Mystery Assimilation. Looking at him is akin to gazing directly at Mystery.” Oscar said, with a hint of excitement in his eyes.

He was the only one among the four unaffected.

“Mr. Rudolf, Mr. Dennis, and Mr. Caleb.” He called the names of the three.

“Although we are under the Lord’s Protection here, the three of you should still try not to look at him for too long.” he said.

“If only the three of you were to die, that would be a blessing from the heavens. But if you suddenly collapse and interfere with my treatment of Knight Wolf, that would be a grave sin.” His tone carried a warning.

“Hmph, Oscar boy, we know very well how rare this opportunity is. But don’t treat this like one of your magic experiments.” It was Caleb who spoke.

His hair had already all fallen out, and he only had a thick white beard. In his hand, he held a cross-shaped spike.

“Indeed, magicians are far too dangerous.” Dennis agreed.

He was the youngest among the three scholars, but even he was nearly sixty, with greying hair and a clean-shaven chin. In both hands, he held iron hooks.

“Ha, the magic department was personally approved by the Bishop. Your discrimination against magic should have changed by now. After all, the Bishop did not approve of your attempt to turn Ritual into a department.” Oscar said mockingly.

This was also his rare, great victory.

Compared to the three, he was younger and had a broader field of study. When the three departments of History, Natural Science, and Biology were first established, he couldn’t defeat the others in debate based solely on knowledge volume, and thus had no place among them.

Frustrated, he suppressed his fear and went to Bishop Corleon to propose the Department of Magic.

At first, the three scholars treated it as a joke. After all, they were well aware of how dangerous magic was. Yet, the department was actually approved by the Bishop.

They then tried to split off Scholar Ritual Powers into their own department, but were refused.

To Oscar, the establishment of the Department of Magic was a rare, complete victory in the Monastery.

“All right, all right, let’s get started quickly. Every moment we delay, Knight Wolf suffers even more.” Rudolf stepped in to mediate.

But his eyes showed more excitement than even Oscar’s.

He was in charge of the Department of Biology.

“Hmph.” Oscar snorted, then approached Knight Wolf and said,

“Knight Wolf, I will use the power of magic to isolate your sense of pain. Though I wish I could put you to sleep entirely—so that when you next awaken, you would find yourself free from the Armor’s constraints.”

“But my magic isn’t strong enough, so I can only isolate your pain.”

“If feeling pain can help more, then go ahead and proceed like that.” Knight Wolf’s voice came from within the helmet.

“Ha, such a valiant knight.” Oscar praised, then poured out mercury and guided the watermark into the carved lines on the table.

“Still, we must be responsible to you. I believe isolating the pain is the better choice.”

As Oscar spoke, the pain that Knight Wolf had been enduring gradually faded, until he could no longer feel anything at all.

Knight Wolf felt a dissociation between his will and body—it was as if he stood outside his own body, holding a string to control it like a puppet.

“Then, let us begin.” Oscar said, pulling out a dagger.

One hand pressed down on the helmet, the other held the dagger and slid it through the gap between helmet and body armor, then thrust it in with force, severing the throat and slicing off the head.

This “healing” lasted the entire night.

Candles were lit beside the Sacred Cross near the Lord’s Throne, and bursts of joyous and maddened laughter echoed throughout the hall.

…

When George awoke, he found himself in the rift valley with Landon and the others.

He was a bit dazed, unable to tell if he was alive or dead.

“Mr. George, you’re finally awake.” Seeing George open his eyes, Landon finally let out a breath of relief.

“I… woke up?” George’s voice was a bit confused. He blinked and sat up.

“Yes, you’ve been asleep for seven days now.” Landon said.

“Seven days…?” George murmured. His consciousness still lingered in that field of light.

He recalled that towering Patriarch clad in Dark Golden Armor.

He remembered that infinite burning heat.

“So, I’m not dead?” he said, raising his hand.

It was fair skin—not a pale skeletal hand.

He clenched his fist and felt a grip stronger than before.

“Is this the Lord’s favor?” The Crimson Eyes of George, now turned Dark Golden, gradually became clear and increasingly bright.

“Of course you’re not dead.” Landon seemed surprised. “You told me you had slain the monster that had stolen the life of this land, but were extremely exhausted after the battle and needed rest.”

“I just didn’t expect you’d sleep for seven full days. If your heart hadn’t been beating, I would’ve thought you’d died in your sleep.” Landon said.

“But now that you’ve awakened, are you ready to lead us to the Church?” His voice carried an inexplicable excitement.

“…I will lead you to the Church.” Though George remembered clearly that he had never said those words.

But perhaps this was the Lord’s guidance. Perhaps that was why he was here after emerging from the Heavenly Kingdom.

That warm light must have been the Heavenly Kingdom.

He thought so.

Then his gaze turned to Igor, who was lying on the ground, also wearing an inexplicably excited expression, without any sign of pain.

His wounds had already stopped bleeding, the scabs even fallen off. Though he still couldn’t walk or speak normally, his body could now be considered healed.

Finally, George turned to the side. The Zeda Manuscript was placed there.

“Let us depart today.” George said.

“Follow along the lake, pass through the Nation of Werewolves, and cross Baron Belair’s territory—there lies the Church of the Sanctuary.” he said.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep