Chapter 92: Going Home?

Nearl, who had been caught in a rare moment of quiet sentimentality just a second ago, could only stare blankly as the Doctor abruptly spun on his heel and sprinted for his life. Right behind him, Kal’tsit let out a distinctly unhinged laugh, slammed the accelerator of the Rhodes Island rover straight into the floorboards, and charged directly at him.

“Doctor! There is still much suffering in this land, but I have discovered that compared to you, absolutely none of it matters!”

‘Kal’tsit! Kal’tsit, your stoic archetype is completely shattering right now!’

You screamed internally while sprinting wildly across the dirt, the roar of the rover’s engine hot on your heels as Kal’tsit drove like an absolute maniac.

Did you know how devastated she was when she woke up, only to hear the casual morning report that ‘the Doctor had conquered Kazimierz again’and that’dozens of Silverlance Pegasi were currently trembling in fear of the Ghost of Babel’?

What kind of bizarre obsession did the Doctor have with Kazimierz? Was it true that even without his memories, he simply couldn’t stand to see the people of that particular nation live in peace?

And now, after she had spent days terrified of what geopolitical disaster he would trigger next, the Doctor actually had the sheer audacity to send her a casual message: ‘Kal’tsit, I’m tired, come scoop me up!’

Watching the fragile, pre-civilization human running even slower than Nightingale while screeching at the top of his lungs, Kal’tsit finally managed to rein in her temper. She eased off the gas, slowly bringing the heavy vehicle to a grinding halt.

“We will settle this when we get back.”

You protested loudly, gasping for breath. “Didn’t I just get chased down like a rabid Originium slug? And I even brought back a massive amount of foreign currency!”

Was this just foreign currency? This was practically looting a national treasury! Kal’tsit shot you a withering glare, barely suppressing the vein throbbing in her forehead.

“…Doctor, I thought you would be far more discreet about our past than I am.”

You froze for a full half-second. Right. Amidst the grand stage drama of two female ghosts and one male ghost taking turns haunting the narrative, there was still a certain green feline who knew absolutely nothing. Her knowledge of the script was strictly limited to your suspected murder of Theresa.

Hmm… It was probably better for the kitty to just stay blissfully ignorant and cute.

You felt a surge of confidence in your ability to bamboozle Kal’tsit this time. Three ghosts. A whole three ghosts from the past, and not a single one of them had bothered to tell Kal’tsit the truth!

If they didn’t say anything while they were ethereal spirits, why force you—the only person who actually felt physical pain when hit—to spill the beans?

“Kal’tsit, please listen to my sophistry—ah, wait, no, listen to my perfectly logical explanation…”

Far away, Frostnova stood somewhat uneasily at the entrance of the Rhodes Island landship, clutching a few ‘specialties’ she had brought back from Kjerag.

They were two bells. They looked simple at first glance, but the metal was etched with complex, ancient patterns. She had personally dug these out from the resting places of past Saintesses.

After Pramanix had been whisked away to Rhodes Island, Kjerag had lost its Saintess and was left entirely without a spiritual leader. During that chaotic window, Frostnova had happened to be personally escorted back to Kjerag by Pramanix herself.

“Impossible! The position of the Saintess is of paramount importance to our nation! How could an outsider girl possibly hold the title!, the previous Saintess is not dead; how can we simply choose another to go up the mountain and disturb the peace of the Mountain God!”

At the time, countless elders of the tri-clan council had slammed their hands on the heavy oak tables in furious opposition.

Pramanix merely smiled slightly. She stepped aside, gracefully yielding the floor to a plain, skinny Liberi girl carrying a massive stack of printed documents.

This was the administrative talent carefully selected by the Doctor the moment he learned of her plan.

The shy, introverted Liberi girl pushed her glasses up the bridge of her beak and opened the folders without a single ounce of stage fright.

“Rules are made by people. Perhaps, instead of the Mountain God, you should all consider these first.”

She pulled out the first sheet. “The eldest grandson of the second elder of the Paleroche family. Diagnosed with severe sexual impotence. He has already booked a discreet appointment for the Rhodes Island in vitro fertilization program.”

A gasp echoed through the hall. She pulled out the next sheet.

“The fifth elder of the Browntail family. Severe knee cartilage wear. The Rhodes Island artificial meniscus surgery is scheduled for this coming Saturday.”

She adjusted her glasses again, the glare of the snowy window reflecting off the lenses. “In addition, there are the new heating pipes currently being connected by the two major families, and the fresh vegetable imports from the last half-month… Sir, if you need to leave this meeting early, please kindly put down the Originium heater that was specially manufactured by Rhodes Island.”

The Liberi looked up, her voice mild but carrying the weight of a dreadnought. “With all of these on the table, is it enough to exchange for a proposal to make her a reserve Saintess?”

The result was a foregone conclusion. They simply could not refuse Rhodes Island’s medical and infrastructural monopoly. However, the elders secretly agreed that if this Cautus girl fell and died during the notoriously lethal mountain trial, the blame could not be placed on them.

Before the trial, Pramanix had taken Frostnova’s cold hands, her expression turning dead serious. “Frostnova, tell me the truth. Are you willing to participate in this trial voluntarily? Once you begin the ascent up the mountain, there is no turning back.”

Frostnova had felt a spike of genuine nervousness. The Doctor had told her this snowy environment was perfectly suited for nurturing and stabilizing her severely overdrawn Originium Arts, but he had sent her here without giving her a single specific instruction on what to actually do.

“I will give it my all. But… what exactly is the trial?”

Pramanix pointed solemnly toward the towering, snow-capped peak of Mt. Karlan. “Rhodes Island managed to skip the preliminary competition between the candidates for you, but they cannot skip the true test. From this spot to the very top of the mountain: you must bow every three steps, and ring the bell every five steps. Whoever survives the freezing altitude and reaches the peak is the Saintess.”

Frostnova blinked, stunned. “And then?”

Pramanix looked a little confused. “And then? There is no ‘then’. You just survive.”

Frostnova looked around at Kjerag. The air here was brisk, but compared to the brutal, flesh-freezing blizzards of the Ursus tundra, this felt warmer than a spring afternoon. “Ah? I just… hold the bell and walk up?”

Was it really that easy? If it was, she wouldn’t feel secure sitting in the position of a reserve Saintess. Maybe she should just march up the mountain and pick a physical fight with that entity called Kjera to make it official…

Compared to the Ursus snowfields where her siblings had nothing to eat and only rags to wear, Frostnova felt like a pampered child going on a leisurely spring outing. It was like playing a casual game, and at the end, the adults clapped enthusiastically and rewarded her with a high-ranking religious title.

A total miscalculation. Next time, she really needed to ask the Doctor what kind of absurdly overpowered people her new companions were. Honestly, telling the elders she was the human incarnation of Kjera would have probably been more convincing and less effort.

‘Brother, are we really joining a legitimate medical company?’

“Pramanix? Pramanix?” Frostnova tugged lightly on the Karlan Saintess’s furry collar, feeling deeply uneasy. “Is there… anything else I need to pay attention to?”

She desperately needed them to give her more stringent requirements, otherwise, she would never feel like she earned this title.

“Yes.” Pramanix suddenly understood exactly why Kal’tsit always walked around with a deadpan expression. Shouldn’t she be the one worrying about the candidate’s safety? This rabbit-god had literally come to Kjerag to sweep the beginner’s bracket. It wasn’t even fair.

“When you come back down later, please try not to look too relaxed. You have to create a sense of thrilling tension, as if you just had a narrow escape from the jaws of death.”

Pramanix suddenly felt the deep helplessness of a desert dweller trying to explain the concept of a flood to a fish. “It is best to let the elders think that your safe return relied entirely on the miraculous protection of the gods, rather than making it look like you just went for a casual stroll home. Here, I will add two more thick sweaters to your outfit to make you look more sensitive to the cold.”

And so, exactly as planned, Frostnova—relying on her own outstanding physical resilience and a little bit of heavy financial blackmail from Rhodes Island—became the reserve Saintess with an overwhelming voting advantage of 72 to 3.

The remaining three opposing votes came from a highly specific demographic: Kjera herself, who held a petty grudge and secretly wrote a ‘no’note trying to stuff it into the anonymous ballot box, only to be caught by her most devout Great Elder who promptly threw it away and declared the vote invalid; Pramanix herself, who suddenly realized that a unanimous vote didn’t seem democratic enough and defected at the very last minute to make it look realistic; and the’impotent brother’ from the Paleroche family, who held a massive grudge after his medical condition was publicly broadcasted to the entire council.

What? How could they know exactly who cast the opposition votes in a strictly anonymous ballot?

Please. Wasn’t this the exact same principle as a school principal’s ‘anonymous suggestion box’ that the principal never actually checked but kept a camera pointed at?

Naturally, a few days later, the freshly baked reserve Saintess Frostnova successfully absorbed the faction talent of the alter SilverAsh, and smoothly integrated into the bustling environment of the landship with the helpful guidance of Rhodes Island volunteer Faust.

“Giving one bell each to Patriot and the Doctor is probably the most popular gift choice on the island right now.” Faust carefully maintained the string of his heavy crossbow, remaining silent for a long moment before offering an explanation.

“According to the combat data I’ve reviewed on the island, the old man Patriot deals pure, devastating physical damage. When he throws his halberd in his second phase, it applies a flat twenty percent Fragile status to the opponent. That kind of damage multiplier is exceedingly rare.”

He gestured to the second bell. “As for giving this to the Doctor… it seems to be an artifact he left behind here a long time ago. I have seen this exact item logged in the Rhodes Island deep database. He seems to care about it a great deal.”

Faust handed over his tactical terminal. Frostnova looked down at the glowing screen and saw an old, blurry, heavily worn-out photograph. The bell in the image could be vaguely made out, looking exactly the same as the one currently resting in her palm.

Heart-Binding Bell: A mysterious relic originating from Yan. Exact usage unknown.

Below the image was a line of vigorous, sharp calligraphic handwriting: Whenever an operator becomes a Candle Knight through combat, all Candle Knights’ attack power increases by 40%, gain four deployment points after deployment, and redeployment time is reduced by 4%.

Frostnova was utterly dumbfounded. She stared at the screen, then at the bell, confirming it repeatedly. “The Doctor… actually likes this kind of thing?”

Faust nodded with absolute sincerity. “According to the many candid photos of him on the island that I have quietly collected, and from what I have observed during operations, these relics are indeed the things he spends the vast majority of his time obsessing over.”

Frostnova did not hesitate any longer. She carefully tucked the two bells into her coat pockets and bowed her head. “Thank you, Faust.”

Faust nodded back. After a heavy moment of silence, he suddenly spoke up, his voice tight as if he had spent the last ten minutes gathering his courage. “…Then, could I trouble you to bring a message to the Doctor for me?”

Frostnova did not make a rash promise. Instead, she asked cautiously, “What message do you need me to bring?”

Faust gritted his teeth, his knuckles turning white around his crossbow. He slowly forced the words out. “I want to tell him that if there is a need, he can use me to atone for my sins. I am fine with doing anything, taking any mission. But please… never tell Mephisto. The Doctor has never told me Mephisto’s current whereabouts, and I need to know… is it because…”

Now, standing at the entrance of the Rhodes Island landship, Frostnova had been waiting on the freezing deck since early morning, waving her hands the moment she spotted your arrival. Even though she hadn’t seen her father in so many days, she still conscientiously focused on relaying Faust’s desperate plea to you first.

You, who had just been fondly playing with the two god-tier relic bells she handed you, physically shuddered upon hearing Frostnova’s deadpan relay of the message.

‘What terrible lines! What an overwhelmingly natural, tragic ‘wife’ flavor!’

Why was it that the female operators on this island were either cold, tough badasses capable of taking on ten men at once, or obsessively, terrifyingly devoted to you, while the male operators possessed a natural, god-given talent for delivering the most melodramatic, tragic lines imaginable? It had been hard enough to recruit someone as cool as Ulpianus, but even his dialogue was so cryptic and terrible it felt like he was secretly acting as a seedbed for the Seaborn in the ocean behind your back!

“Father, I went to Kjerag. Look, my hands are no longer cold. I don’t know why, but my body seems to be warming up little by little.”

Frostnova’s cheeks were actually a bit chubby now, holding a healthy flush. Her wrists were no longer the terrifyingly thin, fragile twigs they had been before, back when it looked like only a translucent layer of skin remained over her Originium crystals and bones.

You consciously stepped aside, letting Frostnova pass directly by you. She practically jumped up to give her towering father a massive hug, looking like a real, energetic young rabbit. Patriot caught her easily, holding her up and spinning her around twice, silently weighing her in his massive arms to see exactly how much healthier she had gotten recently.

“In Kjerag, I encountered so many interesting things! Their mountains are not cold at all. Ringing the bell can spread the sound very, very far, and there are so many furry animals…” Frostnova excitedly babbled about the plain, somewhat childish little things she had experienced in the snowy nation.

This kind of warm, relaxed daily life was completely unimaginable during her era in the Reunion Movement. Long-term illness, constant fleeing, and biting hunger had never left Frostnova the opportunity to simply smile and act spoiled. She had been forced to grow up prematurely in the crucible of absolute hardship.

And now, Frostnova’s lost girlhood had finally arrived, late but obvious, like the gentle spring breeze that finally breaks through the long, brutal Ursus winter.

Compared to the hardened ‘Big Sister Frostnova’ of the Yeti Squadron who commanded the ice sheet, the current Frostnova was visibly more lively and grounded. Her pockets were already filled with colorful, real candy.

These had been made by Hibiscus, who had personally blended the medicinal syrup. After learning that Frostnova’s severe Oripathy prevented her from tasting normal food, the medic had personally taken action to process the candy to be both nutritious and highly flavorful, allowing Frostnova to finally experience that food had ‘sour,”salty,’ and’bitter’profiles, rather than just the burning sensation of’spicy.’

You muttered under your breath, “Why is there no cute, gentle beast-ear girl who has absolutely no ulterior motives toward me coming into my life,” while thankfully watching Frostnova walk right past you to excitedly hug her father. You were genuinely relieved she hadn’t suddenly rushed up to hug you instead.

There were countless gacha games on the market, but they could generally be summarized into two distinct types: the ‘useless camera protagonist’type, and the’brainless pandering harem-bait’ type. But you Arknights players had sublimated to an entirely different world of enlightenment.

While actively enjoying the crippling depression of the lore to the point of appreciating the gritty realism, you firmly supported the characters actually having their own independent lives and families!

What a beautiful, extraordinary spirit!

Before you could finish mentally rejoicing over Frostnova’s healthy independence, you heard another gentle, smiling voice ring out right behind your shoulder.

“Doctor, who is she? Can you introduce her to me?”

Gravel had slipped out of the rover without you even noticing. She was already intimately resting one gloved hand on your shoulder, her breath ghosting lightly against the shell of your ear.

Kal’tsit coughed loudly from behind you, her smile entirely devoid of warmth or humor. “Doctor, it seems that you have been exceedingly popular during your extended vacation in Kazimierz. I have no intention of judging your personal preferences, but amidst the ongoing suffering of this land…”

Młynar, who had been completely silent for the entire journey, suddenly leaned over. For whatever unfathomable reason, he smoothly squeezed himself into the space, pushing Gravel half a step away.

“Doctor, sorry to bother you, but is my former dormitory still intact? Or perhaps you have already ordered it demolished? It doesn’t matter. When I served you back then, I was already quite used to sleeping in cardboard boxes or muddy trenches.”

‘What the hell does that mean?! You’re making me look like absolute scum! Not only did I apparently tear down your room, but I also forced you to live in cardboard boxes for years?! Uncle, you’ve changed! You were never this dramatic before!’

Kal’tsit’s eyes were like sharpened scalpels, coldly scanning the two Kazimierz knights flanking you left and right. Finally, her lethal gaze landed squarely on your face, her meaning crystal clear.

She silently mouthed two words: Knight. Con.

You suddenly broke out into a freezing cold sweat.

‘Don’t! Shouldn’t the operators also respect the Doctor’s own independent life?!’

Right at this incredibly tense, bizarrely domestic moment, Kal’tsit’s lynx ears twitched. She suddenly picked up a rather ominous, sharp sound.

Crack… crack…

What did it sound like? It sounded exactly like the terrifying noise of solid stone fracturing under immense pressure.

Everyone on the deck looked back in absolute horror. Under the watchful, panicked eyes of the entire group, as Frostnova happily threw herself into Patriot’s massive arms, the giant Originium crystal embedded in his chest cracked layer by layer—as if it had just been shattered by Frostnova’s affectionate headbutt.

Everyone’s pupils violently shook. They watched helplessly as the largest, most vital piece of Originium on Patriot’s chest suddenly spider-webbed with tiny, glowing lines. The cracks spread rapidly, becoming denser and denser by the millisecond.

The originally solid, life-sustaining Originium finally couldn’t support the structural damage. With a sickening clatter, it shattered into dozens of pieces, raining down all over the steel floor.

[Rhodes’s Note: “Knight-con” is a play on the suffix “-con” (like lolicon or siscon), implying the Doctor has an unnatural, obsessive fetish specifically for collecting and surrounding himself with Knights.]

[Rhodes’s Note:

Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?

(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent! 🙇‍♂️):

Massive thanks for reading and supporting the operation!]