As he spoke, he couldn't help but sigh.
The reason Palitzer had lowered his guard was mainly because of Schmidt's identity as a White Cup teaching assistant. He initially thought the Star Chart Research Society had the White Cup cult's private approval, which is why, after consideration, he went alone.
"This aligns with what we already know."
After a brief preliminary conversation, Haida finally brought up the content she was most concerned about.
"Final question."
"Mr. Palitzer, please tell me truthfully... what did you see that night?"
---
Haida's interrogation pace was fast, her questions concise and without any unnecessary detail, seemingly confident the other party would answer truthfully.
And indeed, concealment held no benefit for Palitzer.
The poet was well aware of this. Hearing the interrogator finally mention the core question of this inquiry, his previously furrowed brow relaxed slightly. He weighed his words and began narrating the specific circumstances of that night.
"Originally, only the 'gardener' and I were new to this gathering. After we realized it was a trap, we first tried to escape but were unsuccessful... and were ultimately captured."
"They placed an unnamed parasite into my nasal cavity. After that, I lost control of my body, sitting in the chair completely unable to move... but I remained conscious for a short while."
Discussing the situation at the time, he couldn't help but shiver with lingering fear.
His body felt like a puppet, his spirituality drained, yet the sensation of the slimy parasite burrowing deep into his nasal cavity was incredibly vivid. Whispers of death lingered in his ears, and beyond the thought "I will die," no other notion could form in his mind.
Haida listened carefully to Palitzer's words, her gray-brown eyes calm and deep, contemplating the content.
At that time, Schmidt held at least three Cistanches. While such secret art creations weren't particularly precious, they occupied a second-category, upper-tier secret art slot. It was difficult for an ordinary acolyte to possess so many at once.
From this, it seemed the Red Cup High Priest involved in this secret gathering had indeed invested considerable effort.
"Please continue."
After a brief silence, she spoke succinctly, signaling the poet to continue.
Palitzer steadied his somewhat ragged breathing, gradually regaining his composure from the fear of that time.
"After that, a woman appeared. She was accompanied by a young girl who knew Schmidt. Judging by attire and age, she was likely a student at Norlington Academy."
"Her code name at the Star Chart Research Society was 'The Hermit.' She wore a velvet gauze robe simultaneously patterned with a lamp and a moth. The style was of the Unified Faction of the Veiled Assembly... and of High Priest rank."
Hearing this highly indicative description, Haida's gray-brown gaze grew slightly complex. It seemed Dr. Fran was particularly fond of using the clerical identities of the Four Major Orthodox Cults...
Although her thoughts had drifted elsewhere, her expression remained as unruffled as an ancient well, revealing no clues.
"High Priest rank... Why do you think so?" Haida pressed further.
Although she had already heard a general account of that night's events from Fran herself, hearing it from another person offered a different perspective. What image would Dr. Fran present in others' eyes? She couldn't help but feel a bit curious.
"The Hermit Lady's power was unquestionable. From the moment she appeared, her oppressive presence enveloped the entire meeting room. Later, negotiations broke down, and conflict began... That lady practically trampled over and killed the event's organizer, like destroying rotten wood."
"The organizer and his accomplices numbered three in total, all acolyte-level secret cult disciples. Yet their desperate resistance before her was like children's play, only inspiring feelings of helplessness and absurdity."
Speaking of this, Palitzer felt half fear, half relief.
Fear towards the methods displayed by that lady, relief that her target wasn't him. And it was precisely because of her arrival that he managed to survive a situation with no hope.
Haida wasn't surprised by this; rather, it was completely consistent with what she had imagined.
Although Dr. Fran habitually avoided combat situations, the power she held was unquestionable.
Ordinary enemies at the acolyte level had almost no chance to fight back against her. Even just the mental disturbance from the Swaying Heart-Clock was enough to dismantle the self-will of everyone at the Star Chart Research Society. Not to mention Sigrid was also present...
"Did you see what type of secret art she used?"
"That's hard to describe..." Palitzer's voice held a note of uncertainty, as if even he, an eyewitness, had difficulty describing the methods used by the Hermit Lady.
"My consciousness was already blurring then, and I soon fell completely unconscious. I only saw scattered fragments."
"That 'Hermit' Lady probably didn't use secret arts. At the time, her spine detached from her body, its form like a feathered serpent, yet with a metallic quality resembling steel, akin to some kind of crafted weapon."
"It possessed unimaginable physical strength, capable of withstanding rifle bullets at close range, and a swing of its tail vertebrae could shatter a human body."
The last image Palitzer saw before completely losing consciousness was the rain of minced flesh and blood when the Doorkeeper Gunes' entire upper body was shattered.
At that moment, his entire field of vision was blood-red, his nasal cavity filled with the thick scent of plasma, and he had almost given up hope of survival. But the result was... he survived.
Chimera Spine 'Sphinx'... Haida's eyes narrowed slightly, gaining a deeper understanding of Fran's image that night.
Seeing the interrogator lost in thought, Palitzer appropriately remained silent.
A moment later, after the Confidential Division agent beside her finished recording this content, Haida spoke again.
"I have a general understanding of the specific circumstances, Mr. Palitzer. You are also a victim in this incident. You may leave after signing the statement. However, please do not leave Norlington within 15 days. If the case develops, we may need to ask you for more details again."
"Alright."
Seeing the Secret-Hunters letting him go so cleanly, Palitzer's previously anxious heart settled.
His tightly clenched palm loosened slightly, the palm already damp with sweat from who knows when.
In some countries, the reputation of Burial Court hunters could even make a child crying in the night stop wailing. Several of his colleagues had repeatedly warned him it was best not to be targeted by those fanatics... So it was normal to feel a bit nervous now.
...
Meanwhile, in another interrogation room, Vivian was questioning the "gardener" Karim.
This gardener had delicate features, a slender build, and wore a neat set of gardener's clothes.
"How are you feeling physically now, Mr. Karim?"
Vivian's face was hidden in the flickering shadows of the faint light, her expression unseen. Her voice was calm and steady, as if she was just having a normal chat with a friend.
"Still a bit of a headache, but compared to having that thing burrow into my brain, these aftereffects are nothing. Who would have thought the feeling of being alive could be so wonderful, dreamlike and illusory..."
Karim gave a light laugh, his eyes showing a hint of intoxication.
Bursting state of spirituality, seemingly still somewhat activated... Vivian analyzed the gardener's state before her without showing any sign, quickly reaching a conclusion.
To a certain extent, Karim was a "beneficiary" of this incident. The path of The Constructed Flower itself pursues dreamlike, unattainable things. And when merely staying alive becomes a luxury, a narrow escape provides extraordinary revelation.
"Tell me, why did you participate in the Star Chart Research Society gathering that day?"
"I was an old acquaintance of the organizer Nikolas from our time in Gormouth. After coming to Norlington, I received his invitation and decided to go see."
Here, the look of intoxication in Karim's eyes faded slightly, replaced by a touch of complexity.
"I saw he had already stepped onto the Second Step, thinking he had gained something in Norlington over these years. Who would have thought... he died here. Even his corpse was defiled, turned into an undead flesh puppet."
"How did he die?"
Vivian began her inquiry, following the thread of his words.
Compared to Haida's straightforward, direct questioning style, she was more adept at extracting fragmented information bit by bit from the interviewee. Although the process became longer, the content the other party revealed also became more detailed.
After all, before being assigned to Haida's squad, she was a genuine Confidential Division agent, one of the crows who hunted secrets.
Whether dealing with cooperative, mild subjects like the current one or facing unyielding hardliners, she could employ corresponding methods. Of course, dealing with the latter probably wasn't very humanitarian and not something to describe directly...
Karim thought for a moment, then offered his judgment.
"The true cause of death was the Red Cup's 'Cistanche.' The him I met was just a walking corpse. But this secret art belongs to the second-category, upper tier; usually only High Priests can cultivate it. Logically, Schmidt, as an acolyte, shouldn't have mastered so many."
A moment later, having reined in his emotions, he continued.
The gardener himself wasn't as talkative as the poet, but his inspired state made him willing to share more of his understanding.
"As for the formal cause of death... that's much more interesting. The lady who called herself 'The Hermit' joined the gathering and then provoked a fight. Nikolas was stabbed through the chest, Schmidt was shot down, and that Doorkeeper had his upper body directly destroyed."
"I thought Lamp cult High Priests didn't do anything other than leave prophecies in weird places, but 'The Hermit' displayed the purest violence from start to finish."
"So beautiful..."
The gardener propped his chin on his hand, lost in reminiscence.
"Not necessarily. Her robe was embroidered with both a lamp and a moth; perhaps the Moth cult portion was greater."
...
Karim's interrogation didn't reveal much new information. After all, what he witnessed that night wasn't different from Palitzer's account. And both were in a state of fading consciousness at the time, completely losing it not long after.
Before long, Vivian completed all the interrogation items and pushed the door open to leave the room.
Haida was leaning against the corridor wall outside, having clearly waited for a while.
"Any problems, Vivian?"
"Don't worry, Team Leader Haida. I'm a professional... and the interviewee was very cooperative." Vivian responded with a relaxed expression.
An interrogation of this level didn't even count as a warm-up for her. Since she didn't need to use the "little techniques" of torture, it wasn't much different from a chat.
"Mmm."
Haida was well aware of this. Vivian came from the Confidential Division and was much more professional in interrogation than herself.
"By the way, the secret literature Dr. Fran mentioned last time, she asked me to pass it to you."
As she spoke, she took out two vellum booklets adorned with black feathers. They were The Black Feather Arcana and Munin's Night Ballad.
Vivian took the books, her dark blue eyes flickering slightly.
I didn't expect Dr. Fran's efficiency to be this high... The spirituality contained within these two secret tomes was deep and profound, and they exerted a spiritual attraction on Vivian, who studied Raven Feather secret arts, like a summoning.
"...Please thank her for me on my behalf."
After a moment of contemplation, Vivian spoke with a serious expression.
---
Late March.
In previous years, Norlington usually started warming up in April, with temperatures beginning to rise in March. But this year was different.
Although the deep winter chill wasn't as piercingly cold, the duration of wind and snow seemed prolonged. Today, sunlight was hidden behind gray clouds. Outside Fog Street Clinic, fine snow drifted in a thin wind, and frost flowers had formed on the window ledge.
"Nah."
Luyala was lying on her side on the velvet sofa, quite affectionately hugging Sigrid. From time to time, she extended her tongue, trying to lick her cheek.
Clearly, the maid was having some difficulty coping with this mythical creature's way of expressing friendliness. Her eyes blinked slightly, seeming a bit reserved.
The colder the weather, the more popular Sigrid became...
Although she could communicate with Luyala using human language, she still retained certain habits of a deer in her behavior patterns. For example, she liked sticking out her tongue to sense residual scent information in the air.
At least she's learned to wear clothes now...
Sigrid silently comforted herself with this thought, then heard the sound of the door opening and closing.
Fran was draped in her white doctor's coat, with a well-tailored suit vest underneath. Around the collar, one could see a velvet scarf.
She was carrying her medicine case, then raised her hand to glance at the brass pocket watch.
"Hmm... almost time."
"Dr. Fran, are you preparing for a house call?"
Sigrid soothingly patted the head resting on her lap, then asked the doctor who had entered the main hall.
"To be precise, it's a 'business trip.' This is the first quarterly cross-border house call of the year. These types of appointments are fixed, occurring on the last day of each quarter." Fran explained succinctly.
"Will you be gone long?" Sigrid was curious about this.
In her impression, Dr. Fran never seemed to travel far for long periods. It was even rare for her to spend the night outside the clinic.
"For me, it will be a considerable length of time, perhaps months, or even longer... But for you, it will probably only be about ten to fifteen minutes."
Fran's amber eyes glimmered slightly as she patiently explained.
A difference in the flow of time... That is to say, the destination of Dr. Fran's "cross-border house call" is not within this world?
Sigrid opened her eyes a bit wider, her molten gold eyes showing a hint of surprise.
Fran lightly pursed her lips, suppressing a smile. Then she reached out to straighten the collar of Sigrid's clothes, which had been ruffled by Luyala.
"But unfortunately, Sigrid. This is a solo trip... I'll take you along next quarter."
She withdrew her hands, propping her cheeks with her palms, her gaze tinged with a touch of regret.
With that, Fran pushed open the wooden door of the clinic and stepped into the misty, gray-white snowstorm on Fog Street. Her thick-soled leather shoes trod over the snow, her slender figure gradually disappearing into the howling cold mist.
+++
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