The door behind the chains was unlocked, and behind it was a ghostly green light.
There was an altar there, and many people were busily gathered in front of it. Their faces were indistinct, but one figure was particularly conspicuous. Even though he wore something resembling a doctor’s uniform and half his face was covered by a white cloth, Ave instantly recognized the silhouette of the man.
It was her father, holding a sharp tool in his hand, a simple stroke would be enough to carve an incision in the body.
Her father heard the movement at the door, glanced in that direction, and then continued with his work.
He was using the sharp blade to cut open a human abdomen.
Viola lay silently on the altar, motionless like a lamb being sacrificed, as objects, one after another, which Ave didn’t want to identify, were removed from her abdomen.
Viola’s face was pale, with her neck stretched high. Her vacant eyes gained a slight brightness upon seeing Ave at the doorway, and she flashed her a brilliant smile.
After removing the objects from Viola’s abdomen, they began assembling parts inside her.
The world before her cracked, and the throbbing headache surged up again, accompanied by a familiar voice—it was her father’s counsel to her.
"Ave, you are the future heir of the Margaret Clan."
"Never let anyone see your vulnerable side."
"This is the gift I have for you, and you must pass down this secret."
"About ancient technology, and the secrets of the Choir..."
"Ave, I am disappointed in you. You’re too weak, someone like you can’t survive in this city."
"Then, let me help you."
No matter what’s there, you must keep moving forward.
In the boundless darkness, Ave heard Lindong’s prompt. Unable to discern her direction, she gritted her teeth and relied on her intuition to move forward. She needed to leave this place; beyond the subconscious, someone was waiting for her.
She faintly saw a light ahead, and there seemed to be faint voices, as if someone was conversing within the light. She also caught another scent, different from the nauseating blood odor in the room—a faint smell, like sour cream.
"Look, what have I found? It’s hard bread and sour cream!"
Ave heard someone say from within the light.
She moved towards the light, and at last, the scene on the other side revealed itself.
"Give it to me, I want to eat!"
She felt a bit tired and needed to replenish her strength.
Ethan heard Ave’s sleepy mutterings. Even before opening her eyes, she was making demands. He handed over the hard bread. Normally, Ave despised hard bread. When the bakery held a sale, he bought ten or so hard loaves at a low price, but she didn’t even touch one.
This time, however, Ave seemed to throw noble etiquette to the wind, eating with a savage intensity. She bit into the bread with such ferocity that jagged teeth marks were left on it, and she ignored the sour cream smearing her face.
Ethan assisted by handing over some apple water he had snatched from the hotel.
This assistance was timely, as just when Ave was about to choke, she took a sudden gulp of fruit tea, followed by a fit of intense coughing.
She was unaccustomed to eating such hard things, and her body expressed its strong protest.
After the violent coughing ceased, Ethan didn’t let the silence linger too long. He congratulated Ave, "Welcome back."
Ave was lying sideways, gazing at Viola, separated from her by just a thin sheet.
Viola lay there, eyes closed, in a deep sleep. However, for the current Viola, the concept of sleep no longer existed. Her eyes were closed due to a cut-off in power supply.
Her body had been replaced with intricate ancient technology, able to provide her with a constant stream of energy.
This was a machine that looked identical to Viola.
"The healing technique of the Church can provide her with immense life force, ensuring that even after her body is cut open, consciousness remains."
This is a secret of the Margaret Clan, one that was never meant to be shared with anyone. "The machines installed in her body require a soul for sustenance, and the Pope selects individuals with the purest souls."
Ave suddenly thought of something and said, "Viola, that’s her name, and she’s my best friend."
She could only silently analyze the relationship between herself and Viola, using rational and objective thinking.
Ave lowered her head. She could still recall Viola lying on the altar, giving her a radiant smile, yet for Ave, friendship was an elusive concept, devoid of any real sensation. For her now, intense emotions only brought headaches.
The side effects of the Holy Word Art were still imprinted on her, though it wasn’t entirely a bad thing. At least after finishing her "Meditation," she only needed a bit of hard bread to recover.
She seemed to still hear her father’s teachings.
Someone has to inherit this lost technology, and it certainly can’t be someone who is emotionally rich.
You must remain calm at all times to ensure the continuation of the Margaret lineage.
That’s why she had run away from home, all the way to the border of the Empire, pursuing a seemingly unattainable goal.
A thought brewed in Ave’s mind.
Just now, she had personally ended this escape far from the imperial capital.
"Once this is over, I should return to the imperial capital."