Fatal Wound

The moment Ning Xiuyuan pushed open the doors and stepped into the church, his vision went black, and he nearly collapsed to the floor!

When his taut nerves suddenly relaxed, what he felt was not relief, but an indescribable exhaustion.

Yet Ning Xiuyuan resisted the urge to sit down and gasp for air.

As usual, he carried his lantern through the church, refilling those low on oil and relighting those that had gone out. He looked diligent and conscientious.

Only after finishing his duties did he find a secluded spot among the prayer benches, set down his lantern, clasp his hands before his nose, and begin praying earnestly.

Everything was as usual.

During those few hours of feigned sleep in the dormitory, his tense mind had been guarding not only against ghosts that might appear at any moment, but also pondering one matter.

Should he report the ghost incident to the Church?

After prolonged thought and weighing the pros and cons, Ning Xiuyuan decided against reporting it. He would pretend that nothing had happened and that he had seen nothing.

It was not because he was cowardly, nor because Heart of the Beast could not be revealed. It was because he did not know who his enemy was.

If the enemy came from outside the Church, that would be one thing.

But if the enemy came from within the Church—even if it happened to be the gentle and refined Bishop Byron—then reporting it would be no different from exposing himself to the killer.

Ning Xiuyuan had no desire to place his life and death in the killer's hands.

Of course, this was merely his worst-case scenario.

What had happened today might simply have been some newly ascended transcendent controlling ghosts and sending them around to hunt rats for amusement.

Just like the misunderstanding involving Rootless Soul.

But with so little information, he could only prepare for the worst and do everything in his power.

In the end, he was simply too weak.

If he were powerful enough to disregard the Francis Diocese, would he need to disguise himself so painstakingly, overthink everything, and weigh every decision again and again?

The answer was obviously no.

"Phew..."

Ning Xiuyuan let out a faint breath, raised his head, and a trace of resolve flashed through his eyes.

He decided that once daylight came, he would consume the Bird-beaked Monster's transcendent characteristic.

This world was far too dangerous.

If he had never entered the transcendent realm, that would have been one thing. Even if horses watched him, rats spied on him, or Dreamwalkers searched him, he would not have cared.

Because if he did not know, then he would not have worried.

But now that he had witnessed the bizarre unfolding at his side, with blades testing his throat again and again, he could neither turn a blind eye nor pretend otherwise.

Because he had already consumed a transcendent characteristic. He possessed spirituality.

He could see things ordinary people could not.

And those things would not spare him merely because he was a witness.

So he had to grow stronger as quickly as possible—at the very least, strong enough to protect himself!

"Arthur! Arthur! Is Arthur here?"

The church doors were suddenly thrown open. Father Wright rushed in, ragged and utterly disheveled. He barely kept his voice down as he called out urgently.

"I'm here."

Ning Xiuyuan rose to his feet.

"Quick, come with me."

Father Wright was overjoyed. He rushed over, grabbed Ning Xiuyuan by the arm, and dragged him outside.

"What happened?" Ning Xiuyuan calmly slipped free and followed behind him.

"Orlando has been severely wounded. Sister Angela happened to leave the city, and now you're the only one who can save him!"

Father Wright explained in a rush. Seeing Ning Xiuyuan follow, he immediately took the lead, racing down the streets through the darkness before dawn.

"Severely wounded?"

"There's no time to explain."

Father Wright was sweating profusely with anxiety. As they ran, a carriage appeared ahead of them.

"Orlando is in the carriage! Payne, stop!"

Father Wright shouted excitedly.

"Whoa—"

At a low cry, the four-wheeled carriage drawn by two horses pulled over by the roadside.

"Quick, quick, quick!"

Ning Xiuyuan had barely approached the carriage, panting for breath, before he was pulled and shoved into the cabin.

Inside, Orlando knelt on the floor, supported by a priest. A rusted longsword had pierced out through his back and emerged from his chest.

Judging from its position, it had struck directly through his heart!

A wound like that would have been fatal for an ordinary person.

Only a transcendent could barely cling to life through it.

But that was not the important part. The important part was that Ning Xiuyuan could no longer recognize the man before him as Orlando.

One lump of flesh after another bulged from his face. Veins writhed across them like earthworms, as if they could burst through the restraints of his skin at any moment, explode outward, and burrow into someone else's flesh.

The instant he saw Ning Xiuyuan, those lumps suddenly receded, revealing Orlando's original appearance.

His face was deathly pale, veins crawling over it, yet his eyes blazed with fervent hope. He reached for Ning Xiuyuan and squeezed two words from his throat.

"Save me! Save me!"

After those two cries for help, he could no longer suppress the madness. The lumps on his face swelled again, like the puffed cheeks of a toad.

By then, his mind was already clouded, and he was on the verge of losing control.

"Arthur! Save him, now!"

Father Wright roared, his eyes bloodshot and his expression twisted, as if he would slaughter Ning Xiuyuan if he did not act immediately.

There was no trace left of a priest's proper humility and dignity. He looked like a gambler who had lost everything.

"Wright, don't put pressure on Arthur. He only just became an Ascetic Physician."

Father Atley, who was supporting Orlando, was equally anxious but much calmer.

After saying that, he turned to Ning Xiuyuan.

"Arthur, I know you have only just consumed the Ascetic Physician characteristic. Just do your best. Everything is God's will."

"I'll do my best."

Ning Xiuyuan nodded, then looked at Orlando, who was on the verge of losing control yet still struggling to retain his sanity, and said in a deep voice:

"Trust me. I can heal you. Don't give up, do you hear me?"

Orlando, who had nearly turned into a swollen-headed monster, nodded with great difficulty.

"Pull out the sword!"

At that very moment, Ning Xiuyuan suddenly shouted.

As if enlightened, Father Atley seized the rusted sword and yanked it out.

Without missing a beat, Ning Xiuyuan pressed both hands against Orlando's chest and, using Orlando's trust, deceived the disease.

An indescribable power surged forth from Ning Xiuyuan.

"How is it?"

"Orlando, how do you feel?"

"Blood... why is the blood still flowing?"

Father Wright's eyes widened as he stared at the swollen lumps on Orlando's face, then at the blood continuously pouring from between Ning Xiuyuan's fingers. His already pale face turned even whiter, drained of all color.

The intense mental shock even caused his skin to gradually become translucent, showing faint signs that he was about to lose control.

Father Atley, who had pulled out the sword, also stared in disbelief.

Because after extracting the rusted sword, he had clearly seen Orlando's back rapidly turn crimson. Through the torn fabric, he could even see the still mangled flesh around his shoulder blade.

Clang!

The rusted sword fell to the floor. Atley's lips trembled as he covered his face with shaking hands.

He had never imagined that an ordinary investigation mission would end in such a devastating result.

"Arthur—you damned outsider! You did this on purpose, didn't you? You're afraid of dying, aren't you? Ah! You're an Ascetic Physician! Why? Why?"

Wright suddenly seized Ning Xiuyuan by the collar and roared furiously, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets.

His skin became increasingly transparent, a green glow gradually appearing in his eyes. His entire body seemed on the verge of turning into a resentful ghost that devoured souls.

"Wright, you are a man, not a monster." Atley rebuked him sharply.

Father Wright shuddered all over. Clarity gradually returned to his eyes, and his skin slowly returned to normal.

"Don't blame Arthur. He only became an Ascetic Physician yesterday. He can't heal a fatal wound like this. We were gambling with their lives in the hope of a miracle too, weren't we?"

Atley tried to comfort him. Those words were less for Arthur's sake than to keep his companion from losing control.

Father Wright slowly released Ning Xiuyuan's collar. His eyes were red, his breathing ragged, and his bloodshot gaze was filled with violent grief, like a beast with nowhere to vent the pain of losing a brother.

He and Orlando had been orphans raised together in the monastery. Calling them brothers would not have been an exaggeration.

They had mischievously teased nuns together; they had been beaten, starved, and punished together; they had even fought each other fiercely, battering one another black and blue, only so that they could stand together against enemies the next day...

Before the statue of Dawn, they had sworn their priests' oath together to protect the people!

But he had never expected his brother to go before him...

"Cough, I... I'm not dead yet!"

A weak voice suddenly drifted through the carriage.