C141: The Foreteller

Naomi leaned over the enormous canopy bed, her expression softening as she looked at the thin woman lying motionless beneath the blanket.

“Ma’am, are you faring well?”

Gregory and the others had spread out around the room while observing the frail figure resting upon it.

The fragrance of flowers drifted through the chamber, masking the metallic scent.

The room itself was dimly lit. Curtains concealed most of the moonlight outside, leaving only candle flames mounted along the walls to illuminate the surroundings. Their light flickered against polished furniture and cast shadows across the lavish chamber.

The woman upon the bed appeared terribly weak. Her skin was pale, devoid of life, revealing a remarkably thin frame beneath her white silk nightgown.

Long starlight-colored hair shimmered weakly, spreading over the pillow like scattered silver threads.

Her eyes remained half-open, unfocused.

Naomi moved closer and swept her yellow hair aside over her shoulder before gently reaching toward the woman's wrist.

She carefully checked her pulse.

After a moment, she lifted her head.

“She is still alive, Captain, though she lingers in a semi-conscious state,” Naomi's voice remained gentle as she lightly placed her hand against the woman's cold cheek.

“Captain.” Another voice suddenly called out, drawing Gregory's attention away.

Hazel approached after finishing her inspection of the room.

“I discovered these, sir.”

In one hand, she carried a porcelain pastille burner shaped like the estate. Tiny windows and chimneys had been sculpted into its design, and smoke slowly rose from the miniature chimney atop it.

The fragrance filling the room clearly originated from here. Beneath the floral scent lingered another odor, a kind of metallic scent: Blood.

And in Hazel's other hand rested a small golden bowl covered in luxurious engravings.

She set both items down upon the nightstand.

Gregory looked down at the two objects and nodded.

“I see.”

“The burner is undoubtedly a vaporous sedative designed to maintain her semi-conscious state,” Hazel remarked, folding her arms.

“It smells like blood... and Cold Yi essence.” She looked toward Amanda. “Likely to preserve her vital functions while she sleeps.”

Gregory picked up the burner and examined it more closely.

“Indeed. The fragrance keeps the Baroness suspended in a waking dream, thereby preventing her from accessing her dreamscape to summon aid. Blood aroma serves to hypnotize her mind, whilst the essence sustains her body.”

Cold Yi essence. The violet-colored essence belonged to the Moon Faction.

Their specific use was to corrode an individual. They could also be used for dream walking, divination, and cursing.

“Captain.” Troy, having finished his search of the cabinets, stepped forward to present his own discoveries.

He laid out a series of glass syphon tubes, transfusion needles, suction apparatuses, and various metallic medical instruments.

Gregory raised an eyebrow.

“For what purpose would they extract her blood?”

He peered at the glass tubes, several of which still held small remnants of coagulated, dark red blood.

Troy shook his head, his expression turning serious. “I cannot say with certainty, Captain. Perhaps some form of stimulant?”

He glanced toward the bed where Naomi was gently tending the noblewoman, a smile returning to his lips. “In any case, we can only await her awakening to learn the truth.”

Gregory nodded. He returned his attention to the engraved gold bowl, examining the dried residue of a thick yellow liquid clinging to the inner rim.

Hazel frowned.

“They fed her our Harmony Yan?” This was honestly her first time seeing someone turn her own essence into something resembling soup.

Gregory brought the bowl closer and inspected it carefully.

“That is correct.”

He continued. “Since the Baroness belongs to the Moon Faction, our essence naturally opposes hers.”

Gregory withdrew a small bottle of disinfectant and a handkerchief from his coat and carefully cleaned the bowl's surface as he spoke.

“They have administered our Harmony Yan essence to the Baroness to erode her strength, ensuring she remains incapable of resisting their hypnosis trance."

"A remarkably meticulous safeguard,” Troy commented, and Gregory responded with a nod.

The Moon Faction wielded Cold Yi essence. Their opposite stood as Harmony Yan essence. Like fire and water, the two fundamentally rejected each other. They could not coexist peacefully.

Whichever essence was stronger, possessing the greater volume naturally suppressed the other. To each other, they were like poison.

If a Harmony Faction Stagefarer consumed an excessive amount of Cold Yi essence, enough to exceed their own internal reserves, their body would gradually weaken and destabilize.

The inverse was equally true for those of the Moon Faction.

“What is our course of action, Captain?” Naomi asked with concern, keeping her warm hand pressed against the Baroness's cold forehead.

“What is your diagnosis, Naomi?” Gregory redirected the question to her.

Naomi blinked.

“I... um...”

She hesitated briefly before answering timidly.

“I believe we must administer either Violent Yan essence, Cold Yi essence, or perhaps a measure of Pure Yi to counteract the Harmony Yan, and then permit her constitution to recover naturally?”

As the only Medic Path Stagefarer among the team, she possessed the most knowledge regarding treatment.

However, her status as an Apprentice Stage of the Medic Path left her somewhat lacking in confidence when treating extraordinary illnesses.

Violent Yan essence, the crimson-colored essence used by the Violence Faction, was naturally more compatible with Cold Yi than Harmony Yan.

Because of this compatibility, the two were often used together for strengthening and recovery purposes for the two Violence and Moon Factions. They could reinforce one another without triggering a rejection.

As for Pure Yi—It was represented by blue-colored vials. A combination of Cold Yi and Serene Yi, hence its name: Pure.

Asides from that, there was Pure Yan—represented by orange-colored bottles. A combination of Harmony Yan and Violent Yan.

Nevertheless, her deduction was correct.

Gregory offered a warm, encouraging smile.

“Your judgment is correct. Proceed with the treatment, Naomi.”

—-

“Sir, I must offer you my deepest gratitude for your timely succor.”

After a period of treatment, the Baroness Amanda had finally regained consciousness.

She leaned weakly against the bed frame behind her, pulling her fragile body upright to sit, and offered a weary smile toward her rescuers from the Proctor Cross.

Naomi sat beside her on the bed, methodically brushing the Baroness's moonlight-blue hair with a comb to remove the tangles, while Hazel remained stationed beside the window frame, arms crossed as she leaned against the side wall. She had already pulled the curtains apart, allowing traces of dawn sunlight to seep into the room.

The darkness of night was slowly retreating.

Gregory sat directly in front of the Baroness’s bed, his forearms resting on a pillow settled over his thighs. He had remained seated there for quite some time, closing his eyes briefly to rest.

Naturally, remaining inside a lady's private chamber for such a long period was considered highly improper within aristocratic society, but Gregory had little choice.

He still did not know where the Baroness truly stood.

If Amanda turned out to be another hostile Stagefarer or one aligned with the enemy, then the moment she regained consciousness, she could potentially attack Naomi and Hazel before escaping. And neither of them possessed the strength to match a high-stage Farer.

As for Troy, he had descended to the ground floor to guard and interrogate the surrendered servants and guards. Gregory had released his Restriction earlier, and now Troy was responsible for maintaining order below.

“Tell me, Ma’am, do you have any recollection of the events that transpired here?” Gregory asked. He crossed his legs, suppressing a yawn as he massaged the bridge of his nose tiredly.

He had only managed to sleep briefly.

Amanda’s expression turned complicated.

“I fear my recollection is exceedingly vague, sir. I have been confined to this state for... some considerable time, I believe,” she murmured, her hand rose toward her temple as though a headache was blooming inside her head.

“Please be careful, Ma’am,” Naomi spoke gently, concern visible on her face as she touched Amanda’s forehead. “I cannot use my abilities on you directly, so please avoid moving too much, please.” Her expression was genuinely somber and worried.

Amanda smiled softly.

Then, to Naomi’s surprise, she raised her hand and gently stroke Naomi’s head.

“!” Naomi widened her eyes.

But Amanda herself said nothing further about it. Instead, she turned her attention back toward Gregory with an apologetic expression.

“My mind is still shrouded in hazy, Captain. I must crave your indulgence, for I require a time to recover my senses.”

“I understand, Ma'am,” Gregory sighed, letting his shoulders drop.

The memory loss was understandable, given that the Baroness had remained in this vegetative state for years.

Amanda shifted her gaze toward Naomi again and smiled warmly.

The gentle expression caused Naomi’s cheeks to flush.

Although Amanda had already passed her mid-thirties, she still appeared exceptionally beautiful. Now that her condition had improved slightly, color gradually returned to her pale complexion.

And upon closer inspection, there were no wrinkles on her face whatsoever.

“You are a Blessing of the Moon, are you not? What Path is it?”

The blunt question came from Hazel this time. The girl remained beside the window, her gaze directed toward Amanda while maintaining an expressionless face.

Amanda merely smiled softly at her, offering her answer obediently.

“I am a Foreteller, little miss.”

However, after saying that, a brief hesitation crossed her features.

“As to the precise Stage…” Amanda’s smile turned helpless. “I am afraid I cannot disclose such matters.”

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