Walking in alongside Headmaster Gwendolyn was a man wearing a full-face plague doctor mask.
He leaned on a polished black cane inlaid with silver, his tall, sturdy frame draped in a black silk shawl and trench coat. This Gothic attire felt perfectly at home within the Witch’s Academy.
The man gave a slight bow and introduced himself. “I am Doctor Clark, from Fishmouth Town.”
“I’ll leave things to you,” Gwendolyn said.
“No problem. I am a professional.”
The plague doctor nodded, then turned toward Vida. His scrutinizing gaze pierced through the thin glass lenses of his mask. In a deep voice, he said, “Yours is a case of juvenalization caused by genetics. Correcting it is impossible.”
“I know that, you don’t have to repeat it,” Vida replied, pointing toward Lilith. “She’s the one who is sick.”
“Ah.” Clark let out a short exclamation, rubbing the riveted leather beak of his mask to hide his awkwardness. He turned to the blonde girl, taking a serious look. “Her problem isn’t something that can be diagnosed at a glance.”
He stepped briskly toward Lilith and pulled a pocket Luminoscope from his sleeve.
This two-inch-long cylindrical lantern featured an automatic ignition spring. With a mechanical click as he twisted the upper rim, a pale blue light flowed out, as clear as liquid crystal.
Lilith’s abdomen took on a translucent quality, and once again, the grey, flocculent growths on her internal organs became visible.
“Lead-Scurf Disease.” Clark shook his head in regret. Though the mask hid his expression, his tone betrayed a hint of pity and helplessness. “It is terminal. Once symptoms appear, death is certain within three days. There is no cure.”
“Is it truly Lead-Scurf Disease?!”
The most violent reaction came from Gesha, the school doctor. As an expert herself, her voice was frantic with worry. “Are you certain? Lead-Scurf is an extremely rare condition. Could it be a similar pathology?”
“If I can’t be certain, who can?” Clark countered with a frown. “I have personally handled seven patients with Lead-Scurf Disease. These are the symptoms: the light reveals lead-grey flocculent layers. There is no treatment. One can only watch them die. The internal organs found during autopsies look like honeycombs cast from molten lead…”
At that moment, Headmaster Gwendolyn spoke.
“That is enough.”
Silence fell over the infirmary.
It was only now that Lilith finally processed the diagnosis. The color drained from her face, leaving her deathly pale all the way down to her neck. She murmured, “I’m… going to die?”
“You have three days. Whatever unfinished wishes you have, whatever words you want to say, people you want to see, or food you like… go do it. Try to leave no regrets,” Gwendolyn said calmly.
“Waaaah! Headmaster, you’re too cold-hearted!”
Vida’s eyes welled with tears as she threw her arms around Lilith, wailing, “This is too cruel for a girl whose life has only just begun! Oh, Fate! Why must you be so jealous of her beauty and talent?!”
Aside from a sense of dazed detachment, Lilith showed no other emotion. Her heart was filled with a profound sense of unreality.
Is my life really going to end like this?
I haven’t even done anything yet…
What a waste…
The fact of it was utterly absurd.
After Lilith left, the infirmary fell into an eerie silence. The four remaining occupants glanced at one another, their expressions subtle and complex.
After a long while, Vida asked softly, “Your Eminence Elliot, is it really alright to do this? To deceive a young girl like that…”
“After becoming a Hush-Name, I lost all human sensation and emotion. Heat, cold, softness, hardness, sweetness, bitterness, pain, lust, sorrow, regret, joy… I can no longer feel any of it.”
Gwendolyn’s voice was low. She raised a hand, straightening her fingers and turning her palm over to examine it closely.
“There is a high probability that Lilith will become a Hush-Name Witch. Therefore, before that happens, I hope she can experience more human emotions—regardless of what kind they are. Ideally, they should be etched into her very soul and memory. This is vital. If a Hush-Name Witch’s memories and feelings from their time as a human are too faint, their mind tends toward absolute rationality. They gradually lose their humanity and become manifestations of calamity and ill omen. Witchcraft theory has evolved into many schools today, and the ideologies of some—specifically the ‘Restorationists’—are quite sinister…”
A frail, small figure walked slowly along a deserted path.
Lilith had never felt this weak before.
She dragged her feet, her breathing ragged and trembling. Every few steps, she had to sit down to recover her strength.
How can this be…
Lilith raised her hand, unable to suppress the shaking in her fingertips. She squeezed with all her might, only to discover in despair that she couldn’t even form a tight fist.
The world around her was solemn; the faint chirping of insects floated through the stillness. Thin clouds obscured the moon, and shadows swallowed her small body.
Cold.
Lilith felt the cold.
In the past, low temperatures could never strip away her body heat. She had been like a small beast; she could find a hollow tree in the wild, curl into a ball, and survive a freezing snowy night.
But now, the chill seeped into her very muscles, making her feel the physical agony of hypothermia. The cold wind slithered under her clothes like a snake, raising patches of goosebumps and sending needle-like pricks of pain across her skin.
She hugged her arms tight and curled her toes to ward off the chill.
Three days left…
In her daze, she suddenly remembered the Headmaster’s words.
Things I want to do…
People I want to see…
I have none of those…
She let out a mocking, contemptuous smile.
Wang Yue stood in the center of the plaza, holding a peculiar lantern in her right hand.
The interior of the glass casing featured a curved surface made of silver-white molybdenum alloy. By rubbing a valve at the top with her thumb, she engaged a mechanism that opened internal sliding doors, allowing the light to shoot out in ribbon-like bands through the gaps.
She could open up to eight slits, dividing the light evenly like slices of a pizza.
This was the “Cardinal Lamp.”
Aside from this sealed-structure version, there was another open-structure lamp with a complex internal lens, but that version could only release all light bands at once and couldn’t fire a single beam.
Wang Yue flicked her wrist, the silver lantern chain wrapping around it several times. Then, she held it high and shouted:
“Recall!”
Her thumb rubbed the valve, the slider opened, and a band of light instantly shot out, streaking straight ahead!
A hundred meters away, Prima’s lips were pressed thin, her expression solemn.
Seeing the band of light sweep over her head, she raised her left arm and pointed a single finger upward.
Specifically, it was the index finger of her left hand.
This finger was entirely translucent. Unlike her other four prosthetic fingers, it lacked joints. It was crafted from a transparent glass-like shell, filled with an amber-glowing liquid where tiny bubbles floated. It was exquisite, a veritable work of art.
The moment her fingertip touched the band of light, space distorted. Prima’s silhouette was sucked into a vortex, vanishing from her spot!
Flash!
A colorful vortex, appearing two-dimensional to the eye, suddenly manifested in front of Wang Yue. Prima straightened her body and landed on the ground, her hair floating briefly before settling softly.
She stood stunned for a moment, looking back at her original position. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
“I… I moved?”
“That is the Explorer’s method of movement: ‘Blinking.’ By touching the ‘Cardinal Light of Recall’ with a ‘Light-Seeker,’ you can travel long distances instantly to reach the Lantern-Bearer,” Wang Yue explained with a smile.
