The Unyielding Nun and the Impending Journey

“I won’t leave, especially not Mistfall City.”

“The residents of Canary Street are all my friends, and 101 Lily of the Valley Street is my eternal home.”

The young woman, Ghervil, hugged a cushion, curling into the corner of the sofa, adopting a posture that clearly stated she wouldn’t be swayed by anyone.

“I haven’t even said anything, so how did you know it was about leaving Mistfall City?” Dr. Callan crossed her arms, her brow furrowed in surprise.

“Now I do.”

“…”

“Alright then…” Dr. Callan pressed a hand to her forehead. “It is indeed about leaving this city.”

“In any case, I’m not going anywhere, so you can just give up on that idea now.” Ghervil quickly interjected.

It wasn’t that Ghervil was being overly sentimental or obstinate.

Mrs. Keith had once said that it would be almost impossible for her to be taken out of this city by the lady’s power alone.

Ghervil suspected Dr. Callan couldn’t manage it either, implying there must be a powerful force at play, working to circumvent the Epidemic Prevention Bureau, which was responsible for investigating such cases.

Considering the powers that could prevent her departure, the Epidemic Prevention Bureau and the police under their command came to mind, with no other possibilities… Oh, perhaps the Dream Society was involved.

Trusting Dr. Callan did not equate to trusting the organization specifically targeting patients, which she suspected was behind this.

Her true fear was that if she left, she would never be able to return; with all the secrets she carried, she wouldn’t be surprised if she were imprisoned and studied for a year or two.

If her luck ran out, she might be deemed a severe plague victim and physically eliminated; if she were fortunate, she’d face a full package of surveillance, house arrest, and restricted movement.

She absolutely refused to live a life devoid of freedom.

“You at least have to tell me what’s going on.”

“I’ve been diligently staying at home, causing no trouble whatsoever, so you can’t just return and announce you’re taking me away, can you?”

Unwilling to put Dr. Callan in too difficult a position, Ghervil thought that understanding the full story might lead to a compromise.

“You’re right,” Dr. Callan conceded. “Let me think about where to begin.”

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Dr. Callan closed her eyes in thought for a moment before looking up.

“Let’s start with your illness. Based on their limited understanding of your condition, the Epidemic Prevention Bureau speculates that you suffer from more than just narcolepsy; it might even involve the Dreamscape. Anything related to the Dreamscape, anyone—even ordinary citizens—who has experienced a Long Night Dream, treats it with extreme caution and immediately seeks help at the church.”

“The only people I can think of who haven’t dreamed during a Long Night are infants less than a month old.”

The Long Night, as mentioned in her conversations with Mrs. Keith, was a phenomenon that occurred only in summer and winter.

Its timing was unpredictable, sometimes once, sometimes twice, with the highest recorded instance being four times in a single season.

These were periods of darkness lasting anywhere from twenty-four to forty-eight hours.

During such times, people typically followed the Church’s instructions, spending most of it within the Dreamscape to receive the Goddess’s blessing.

These rumors were not unfounded; more than one person had witnessed miracles during a Long Night Dream.

Bishop Sartre himself had stated that one of the prerequisites for becoming a bishop was the ability to perceive the past or future to some extent within the Dreamscape, which served as compelling evidence.

“I understand… but I’m quite curious why the Epidemic Prevention Bureau has only a limited understanding and not the full details.”

“I’m right here; they could easily come and ask, even if it’s just to go through the motions.”

Given her amicable relationship with them and her unique status, shouldn’t they have gone out of their way to inquire, even if only to establish a closer connection?

“Because they lack the proper authorization,” Dr. Callan stated flatly.

Briefly stunned, Ghervil pressed on.

“Is authorization more important than a potential disaster?”

“You yourself said that ordinary people facing such a situation would go to the church, to seek out the Church.”

“You still don’t grasp the significance of Solis Abbey.”

“Even for high-ranking members of The Order, investigating the abbey is an extremely complicated affair, let alone for those outside its system; a slight misstep could lead to accusations of impiety or heresy.”

From Ghervil’s superficial understanding of these words, it seemed some within The Order were rigid and dogmatic, and given their animosity with the Epidemic Prevention Bureau, they would undoubtedly seize upon such an incident to cause a major stir.

Was it because the Epidemic Prevention Bureau had recognized this that they hadn’t come to investigate her illness?

This implied that Agent Lalviye-Komel had deceived her that day.

However, upon reflection, what Lalviye-Komel said wasn’t entirely wrong; with the abbess absent, Ghervil’s identity as a Solis Abbey nun might still hold sway outside The Order, but its influence within was less certain.

“What about you then?” Ghervil asked, her brow furrowed.

“In principle, I don’t possess that authority either, but if you wish, I can apply for it.”

“No need, absolutely no need!”

Dr. Callan’s casual tone, as if speaking of a trivial matter that could be easily resolved, startled Ghervil, who promptly punched the cushion and quickly interjected to stop her.

“Next, there’s the investigation from the past few days.”

Dr. Callan continued her account.

“We discovered traces of a ritual and the use of bishop-level power in the cemetery behind the cathedral, but old Bishop Sartre has long been unable to wield such abilities, or rather, his capacity is severely limited, far from enough to sustain the performance of a ritual.”

“Since when? Are you certain he hasn’t deceived you?”

Dr. Callan cast a sidelong glance at her.

“It was about five or six years ago, the result of a specialized review by higher authorities. We, of course, conducted a secondary confirmation.”

“Therefore, it’s now almost certain that a traitor has emerged within the Mistfall City diocese.”

Seeing Ghervil’s fingers drumming as she pondered, offering no reply, Dr. Callan feared the girl might conjure some reckless scheme for an adventure.

After all, Agent Helm, a Level Five agent, had vividly described Ghervil’s bravery when first confronting the Ratmire White Rat.

In terms of courage, the young woman before her would not even yield to some adults.

Rolling the parchment that had been resting on the table into a scroll, Dr. Callan gently tapped Ghervil on the head.

“This is not for you to worry about. Consider it a sightseeing tour; we won’t stay in any one place for more than half a day, until everything here is resolved. If you decide you don’t want to return and continue your adventures then, that’s fine too; I’ll cover all expenses, you won’t spend a single coin.”

“You’ll come with me, and pay for everything?”

Ghervil could hardly believe it.

All expenses…

Didn’t that mean she could buy anything, as long as it wasn’t too extravagant?

And Dr. Callan wasn’t even applying for reimbursement from above; just how wealthy was she?

“My mission is to protect you. The Hospital Department has sent others over. If the Epidemic Prevention Bureau personnel can’t handle it, they will be the final line of defense.”

“I have another question!” Ghervil’s lips curved into a triumphant smile, as if she had seized upon a crucial point.

“What does any of what you’ve just said—whether it’s the Long Night Dream or traitors within The Order—have to do with me, a nun who is as ordinary as can be?”

“Furthermore, according to your own logic, I only need to report my symptoms to the church.”

“Shouldn’t your focus now be on protecting the residents of this city? If you can’t protect the entire city, surely it wouldn’t be difficult to deploy more personnel to densely populated areas.”

‘You think you can buy me off with money? You underestimate me, Doctor. Perhaps you should offer an advance to show your sincerity?’

“You are far from ordinary. The very existence of Solis Abbey holds more significance than all the people in this city combined.”

Dr. Callan’s single sentence instantly deflated Ghervil’s burgeoning smugness.

“Ah, I knew you wouldn’t be easy to convince. Fortunately, I came prepared. If you truly don’t believe me, you can take a look at this first.”

She pushed the parchment towards Ghervil.

“I…”

Ghervil was about to speak when Dr. Callan interrupted her.

“I know you won’t understand the text, but I want you to look at the emblem in the bottom right corner: the official seal of the Hospital Department’s headquarters, the Saint Eleusian Philanthropic Institute, located in the Royal Capital.”

“His Holiness the Pontiff personally affixed it for you.”