Purpose

In the hospital at night, Haven, who had just returned from a gathering, took over for Beth, who still needed to look after Little Thomas.

"You... never mind, get some rest. You've had a pretty unlucky day today."

Heaving a sigh, Haven sat down on the chair beside the hospital bed, lowering his head in deep thought, though it was unclear what he was pondering.

It wasn't until Owen returned to the hospital with the healing potion that the silence in the room was broken.

While handing over the potion, he complained to Cyril: "You didn't tell me what the situation was like at the Harvest Cathedral!"

"At first, I thought I'd gone to the wrong church, then I thought that priest had some strange hobbies, and finally, I had to persuade that peculiar 'Apothecary' locked in the basement to concoct a healing potion for your injuries."

"Oh, right, there's nothing wrong with this potion; I've already divined it."

Cyril glanced at Haven, and seeing no reaction from him, he took the potion Owen offered:

"What conditions did he set?"

Owen curled his lip: "You have to find a way to get that incredibly oppressive priest to let him out from behind the door."

"Also, you can't drag your feet. You must finish this as soon as your injuries heal. I've already sworn an oath on your behalf under the holy emblem of the Mother Earth."

"You can actually swear oaths for others?" Cyril looked at him, somewhat stunned.

The latter shrugged: "The priest knew what the situation was anyway."

After a pause, he tilted his head to look at Haven, who was still sitting in the chair lost in thought, and then said:

"Since someone is looking after you, I'm going home to study. The final exams start in a few days, and I need to double down on my revision."

"I still think the method of throwing an eraser to guess the answers is more suitable for you."

Muttering this under his breath, he nodded slightly and watched the other leave.

After Owen left, Haven, who had remained silent the whole time, suddenly spoke: "Is that a Beyonder potion in your hand?"

"Is the request from that peculiar 'Apothecary' your friend mentioned very troublesome?"

"If fulfilling his request is too much of a hassle, you can give up on this potion. Mr. Portland mentioned the mysterious world to me vaguely before; perhaps he can also provide such Beyonder potions."

Cyril subconsciously asked: "So, were you spacing out just now because you were considering whether to ask Mr. Portland for a Beyonder potion that could heal my injuries?"

Haven nodded slightly: "Something like that. Before Beth left, she whispered to me that the wound on your flank is likely to leave lasting complications."

After a brief silence, he said earnestly: "Thank you."

Haven frowned, seemingly unaccustomed to Cyril's sudden display of courtesy.

Pursing his lips slightly, he changed the subject: "Mr. Portland said that the world of Beyonders is dangerous. This danger doesn't just come from the outside, but also from the Beyonders themselves, and it can even affect those around them."

"That's why I hesitated when he told me to think it over carefully, and I haven't given him an answer even now."

Cyril suddenly fell silent. He thought of old Fells. If it weren't for the fact that he knew him and had a relatively direct relationship with him, he wouldn't have become a tool for Zoila to get close to him, dying at her hands without rhyme or reason.

Although it was Zoila who killed old Fells, he felt he had to bear half the responsibility. If he hadn't known him, he might have lived out his twilight years in peace.

...When I read books in the past, I thought the Law of Beyonder Characteristics Convergence was cool, but now, when things actually happen to me, I can finally understand how messed up it feels. You can't avoid it, you can't escape it, and no one can stay out of it.

As these thoughts swirled, he suddenly felt a sense of peace arise from within his heart. His surging emotions were soothed, and his tense spirit relaxed.

Coming back to his senses, he hurriedly looked around. Someone with the status of a "Spectator" had clearly used "Pacify" on him to settle his mindset and emotions.

Although he wouldn't have lost control just from thinking about things, the accumulation of too many negative emotions does indeed affect a Beyonder's mental state.

As he looked around, a gentle, aged voice suddenly echoed in his heart: "No need to look. I am just a passerby who happened to pass through your mental world. I saw a bit of a tide and smoothed it out on my way."

"As a Beyonder, the thing to avoid most is falling into self-doubt."

The voice echoing in his heart gradually faded, as if the speaker were quickly moving away from him.

...It wasn't Adam?

...However, to happen to pass through my mental world at this very moment, it really is a coincidence that is intentionally undisguised.

While he was lost in thought, a hand with distinct knuckles waved in front of his eyes: "Cyril, what are you thinking about? I've called you several times and you haven't reacted."

"Uh, I was thinking about how you've managed to resist the temptation of becoming a Beyonder."

Cyril hesitated slightly and made up a reason.

Haven chuckled and shook his head: "If it's as dangerous as Mr. Portland says, then that's not much of a temptation."

"I'm not a fan of mysticism like you. Compared to mysticism, I'm more interested in technology and machinery."

"Besides, Mr. Portland mentioned that although the abilities of most Beyonders are miraculous, they aren't exactly powerful; they can still be killed by sharp blades and bullets."

Cyril tilted his head. That didn't seem wrong, but...

"Then didn't Mr. Portland tell you that the pathway he recommended to you belongs to the God of Steam and Machinery, and it can significantly enhance a Beyonder's talent in the field of machinery?"

Haven's eyes widened, his face full of disbelief: "Re... really?"

Cyril shrugged: "Otherwise, why do you think all the technical talent is in the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery?"

Before he could finish his sentence, Haven had already risen from his chair and was walking toward the door of the hospital room.

"You stay in the room and behave yourself. I'm going to find Mr. Portland."

Cyril watched Haven's hurried back, speechless... No, wait, where did your composure go?

Withdrawing his gaze, he opened the potion Owen had brought, drank half of it, and poured the remaining half onto his wounds.

Soon, he felt a slight warmth and itchiness spreading from his injuries. Curious, he lifted the gauze on his shoulder and saw the flesh at the wound wriggling and regenerating at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"This potion Emlyn concocted is extraordinary; the effects are surprisingly good."

"To show sincerity? No, it's more likely so I can fulfill my promise as soon as possible and rescue him from the basement of the Harvest Cathedral."

"Does working as a volunteer under Father Utravsky count as a rescue? After all, he did leave the basement, and he gets to stay in his ancestor's cathedral every day."

Muttering a few words to himself, he pulled up the blanket, lay down on the bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, he was woken up by the sound of the door being pushed open. Owen rushed into the ward, looking excited.

Cyril looked at him curiously: "You don't have classes today either?"

Owen pulled over a chair and sat down, his expression very serious as he said:

"I think you were right. As a qualified Seer, I should use divination to get the answers during the exam, rather than trying to cram in these few moments before the test."

"By the way, how much longer are you going to be lying in the hospital?"

Cyril: ...

A qualified Seer wouldn't be troubled by exams; they are inherently a group of learned individuals.

Complaining in his heart, he sat up from the bed, stretched his body, and said:

"I'm checking out today."

Owen asked with a hesitant expression: "You were seriously injured and hospitalized just yesterday. If you check out today, won't it arouse suspicion?"

Cyril shook his head: "Suspicion has always been there, but nothing will happen."

"The Heart of Mechanics must already know that you brought me the potion from the Harvest Cathedral, but the Church of Mother Earth is also a major orthodox church, which counts as a legitimate channel."

"I met Archbishop Horamick yesterday. My identity as a Beyonder probably can't be hidden, but I am a believer of the God of Steam and Machinery myself. Plus, with the connection to the Harvest Cathedral exposed by you, I at least won't be locked in the church's basement."

"At most, I'll be under some surveillance, or perhaps they'll just recruit me into a Heart of Mechanics squad."

Owen stood up from his chair with a start, a flash of belated realization flickering in his wide eyes:

"I... you, so when you so openly asked me to go to the Harvest Cathedral to buy the potion from Father Utravsky yesterday, it was actually for me to show the people secretly moni... protecting you?"

"The goal was to reveal that you have a close relationship with an orthodox church and aren't a dangerous wild Beyonder?"