Around ten in the morning, Haven arrived at the hospital, spirituality still overflowing from his body.
After Cyril showed that his wound had fully healed without leaving the slightest trace, Haven readily agreed to let him leave the hospital and promised to cover for him in front of Beth.
Before noon, Cyril had returned home. The process went smoothly; aside from the hospital expressing some concern over his condition, Haven brushed it off by saying he was being transferred to a private hospital.
The Machinery Hivemind members never appeared from beginning to end, seeming to tacitly approve of his actions and accept his identity.
Having returned home, Cyril had not even had time to relax before Beth hurried over, forcing him to lie back in bed and pretend to be ill.
In the first-floor living room, Beth's questioning voice could be heard by Cyril even from his second-floor room:
"Why did you take Cyril out of the hospital? His injuries were so serious. This is exactly when he needed treatment. What if delaying it leaves him with lasting complications?"
"Was it because of the hospital fees? If Father didn't transfer money to your bank account in time, you could have come to me. My husband and I may not be rich, but we can still afford this much in hospital expenses."
"It's one thing for Cyril to fool around so irresponsibly, but why were you going along with him?"
Cyril, listening to the voices downstairs from his room: ...
"So my image as someone who never puts people at ease really has taken root..."
After muttering softly, he reached for the washed fruit on his bedside table and took a big bite.
Before long, the conversation downstairs stopped, and he heard footsteps thudding up the stairs.
Knock, knock~
"The door isn't locked."
Before he had even finished speaking, the door was pushed open from outside.
Beth's makeup today was rather rough and simple. It was obvious at a glance that she had left in a hurry and had not properly fixed herself up at all, completely unlike the image Cyril usually had of her.
After entering the room, she put away the worry on her face and revealed a gentle smile.
"Cyril, how are you feeling today? Does anything hurt?"
"If you feel uncomfortable anywhere, you must say so. We'll go back to the hospital. It really is unpleasant staying there, but your health is the most important thing. You can't neglect your body for a moment of comfort."
Being a patient was really nice. The last time he had seen Beth this gentle was probably when Little Thomas's father first came to their home, wasn't it?
After letting his thoughts wander briefly, Cyril came back to himself and smiled as he nodded at Beth.
"Don't worry, I'm really fine. You should trust the Mother Earth Church's medicinal expertise, especially since the Harvest Cathedral has a truly capable Apothecary."
"My injuries have stabilized. I just need to rest and recuperate for a while."
Beth looked at him seriously. "Are you sure there's no problem?"
Cyril met her gaze and nodded.
Beth withdrew her gaze and nodded lightly. "That's good. Rest properly and recover. Once you're better, we'll go to the Harvest Cathedral together to thank Priest Utravsky."
"You have no idea how panicked I was when the hospital doctor said the gunshot wound in your side might leave lasting complications."
"I had just promised Father that I would take good care of you all, but less than a month later, you suffered such a serious injury. I don't even know how I'll explain it to Father and Mother when they return."
"Luckily, you met the Priest of the Harvest Cathedral and received his help."
"If you want to change your faith, I'll support you too. At least when you were hurt, they truly helped you."
Cyril gave a bitter smile as he listened to Beth's rambling. "I really have no plans to change my faith."
After all, I believe in no one.
Beth nodded gently. "I understand. Faith is a decision that must be made carefully."
"All right, get some proper rest first. I'll prepare lunch for you and Haven. He looks like he didn't sleep well either."
With that, she turned and left the room, thoughtfully closing the door behind her.
Not long afterward, his door was pushed open again. The newcomer was Haven, whose excitement was impossible to hide.
He shut the door, drew the curtains, and only then returned to the bedside and spoke quietly.
"I've become a Savant. Just as Teacher Portland said before, it isn't anything miraculous. It merely gave me decent memory, comprehension, learning, and practical skills."
"But I think it's pretty good. It suits me."
After a brief pause, he changed the subject. "I asked Teacher Portland about your situation. He said that if you don't join the Mother Earth Church, there's a high chance you'll be recruited by the God of Steam and Machinery Church's Machinery Hivemind team."
"The churches' Beyonder teams have always been short on manpower. When they come across suitable candidates, they generally choose to recruit them."
"Mm, I could more or less guess that."
Cyril nodded slightly. He roughly understood why Haven had gone out last night but had not returned until this morning.
He had probably used Portland Mormont's connections to confirm Cyril's situation.
After a pause, he asked curiously, "What about you? You're a Beyonder now too."
"I'm technical staff." Haven lifted his chin.
"Teacher Portland has already invited me to join the Royal Academy of Sciences of the Loen Kingdom, but I'll still establish a laboratory of my own."
"At the same time, I'll maintain a certain degree of cooperation with the God of Steam and Machinery Church. I respect my faith very much."
...I respect it too, even though I have no faith.
In the evening, after everyone else had left the house, Cyril finally walked out of his room and wandered around the house.
The treatment for pretending to be sick was good, but lying in bed for too long was still quite uncomfortable.
Owen suddenly rushed in, looking frantic. "Cyril, I received a revelation from Fate!"
"It was a substantial treasure. I saw it—it's real!"
Cyril handed him a glass of water. "Slow down. Explain clearly."
Owen accepted the glass, gulped it down in one go, then let out a long breath.
"Whew~"
"I was divining clues about the Clown potion at home. I was only casually practicing divination and wasn't expecting anything, but at that moment, inspiration suddenly struck, and I saw a revelation from Fate."
"It was a treasure, and it happened to contain the main ingredient for the Clown potion."
"Are you sure that was a revelation from Fate?" Cyril questioned him.
It was not that he distrusted Owen, but that he distrusted a Seer's abilities. Even a Beyonder of the Monster Pathway would at least have to be a Lucky One to have such good fortune.
If Seers could so easily divine clues about the potion for their next Sequence, the Secret Order would not have become a hidden organization with practically no presence at all.
Faced with Cyril's skeptical gaze, Owen lowered his head and confessed, "All right, I actually used the Fate Crystal Ball."
"But the revelation I saw was real. I performed a divination myself to confirm it."
"Although there's danger, it isn't fatal. We have a chance to take it away—at least part of the treasure."
Seeing Owen insist so firmly, Cyril asked curiously, "So what exactly is this treasure you saw?"
Owen said, "A pirate ship. It's anchored near the estuary east of Backlund."
"You want to rob pirates?" Cyril looked at him in surprise.
Owen nodded. "I divined it. If you and I go together, the odds of success are high."
Cyril raised an eyebrow slightly. "And if I don't go with you?"
Owen's face fell. "Then I won't even be able to get aboard the ship."
Afraid that Cyril would refuse, he hurriedly added, "That ship doesn't just have ingredients for the Clown potion. It also has materials needed by an Astrologer."
Cyril: ...
I'd bet a glass of lemon tea this is a trap designed to lure me over. Even if it isn't a trap, it's part of a script.
After a pause, he looked at Owen seriously. "Divine the level of danger again."
"Uh... all right." Owen nodded and took a prepared Citrine Pendant from his pocket.
A few seconds later, the citrine pendant in Owen's hand began to swing on its own, with an irregular arc, counterclockwise.
Owen opened his eyes, stared at the crystal pendant whose swing varied unpredictably, fell silent for a moment, then began another divination.
A moment later, he reached out and grasped the swinging citrine, giving his interpretation. "There's danger, but the level of danger is uncertain."
"The target itself should be very dangerous, but there are factors nearby that can be exploited to effectively reduce the danger level."
Before you continue