A Desperate Ordeal

Huu… haa—

The carriage sped through the streets, its wheels churning as it raced toward Hillburg Manor outside the city.

Saranya heard a mournful cry and, believing her mistress had awakened, quickly turned her head to check.

It was not.

Kaelan lay peacefully beside her. Just then, the Night Lily Knights suddenly crowded around Saranya, pinning down her flailing limbs.

Vireta, with tears welling in her eyes, repeatedly called her name, murmuring reassurances.

Only then did Saranya realize that the one wailing at the top of her lungs was herself.

Her thoughts grew sluggish, making it difficult to discern what others said, and only choked sobs escaped her lips.

With an open abdominal wound and extensive blood loss, Saranya’s injuries were severe.

Having lingered for too long, her body was finally giving way, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness—she was nearing shock.

“I’m going to die… I’m going to die…”

“No… I don’t want to die… please… I’ll do anything… I don’t want to die…”

As the sensation of impending death peaked, an intense will to survive ignited within her, and she trembled uncontrollably under the crushing fear of mortality.

The carriage halted, and she was then carefully moved from the compartment, carried through a dilapidated garden, and into the shadowed interior of a building.

Torches carried by her escorts illuminated the corridor, and in her blurred vision, the dim ceiling seemed to rush past, backward.

In her dazed state, Saranya felt as though she were on a train hurtling through a tunnel.

“Doctor!!!”

Vireta’s cry was utterly heartbreaking.

Saranya’s eyes initially brightened, a sliver of hope stirring within her, but the thought of this world’s primitive medical practices instantly extinguished it, replaced by a profound dread.

She let out a frightened sob:

“No… no doctors… I want a witch… I want magic healing… not a doctor—”

‘No… if they hand me over to a doctor in this world, I’ll surely be force-fed noxious concoctions and bled to death, tortured all the while! It would be better to just end it swiftly with a knife!’

“Don’t be afraid, Mama. Master Visari is one of Vero City’s foremost surgeons; she’ll surely cure you!”

“W-who… Visari…?”

She was carried through two layers of curtains, finally stopping in a brightly lit, spacious room.

The candlelight made the air intensely hot.

Within the room stood two female figures, one tall and one short, both clad in pristine white robes, their faces obscured by pointed bird-beak masks hanging from their hoods.

“Out! No unauthorized personnel allowed!!”

From beneath a bird-beak mask, a familiar, commanding voice emerged—it was Cecilia.

“I am Cecilia Visari, a registered physician with the Silver Hand Gospel Society, and this is my assistant, Aquilis.

Saranya, if you permit it, we will provide you with treatment!”

Cecilia’s voice was urgent, devoid of her usual gentle demeanor.

“Please, let us save you, Saranya!”

“All… alright…”

At this point, Saranya had no other choice but to take a gamble.

“Laudanum.”

“Syringe.”

Following Cecilia’s instructions, Aquilis handed over the medicine and instruments.

Cecilia drew a large syringe full of liquid, injected it into Saranya’s arm, then pried open Saranya’s mouth and poured the remaining fluid down her throat.

“Ugh… ugh… glug glug glug—”

As the medicine entered her mouth, a potent stench of strong liquor mixed with garlic assailed her senses, instantly disorienting Saranya.

A faint euphoria began to spread through her body.

Noticing the anesthesia taking effect, Cecilia set down the syringe, then abruptly pulled out Saranya’s intestines.

After a brief observation, she extended her hand to Aquilis once more.

“Raven’s beak forceps.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh—”

Cecilia clamped the forceps onto Saranya’s exposed wound.

The earlier anesthesia had proven limited, and excruciating pain surged through her, causing Saranya to spring upright from the bed, only to be forcefully pressed back down by Cecilia.

“I might have to administer something rectally; try to bear with it.”

“Wh-what?!?”

“Aquilis, the irrigating device!”

“Coming!”

Aquilis wheeled over a terrifying medical instrument.

Its main body was made of copper, trailing a dark yellow animal bladder at one end, which was filled with a transparent, unknown liquid.

‘What, what is that?!’

Saranya’s expression instantly crumbled.

‘Right, in this era, doctors still believe “enemas cure all ailments.” How could I have forgotten that…’

‘I should have just died outside… why endure this suffering…’

“Don’t worry, I’m not like those quacks outside.”

Catching sight of Saranya’s despairing expression, a hint of confidence gleamed in Cecilia’s eyes.

She reached for a copper tube and, without consulting Saranya, began the procedure.

“Hmph… damn it…”

Feeling the foreign object, Saranya frowned and cursed under her breath, yet she was powerless to stop it.

After securing the area around the tube’s opening with linen tape, Cecilia began to pump the bellows beneath the instrument with her foot.

The entire apparatus emitted a gurgling, sucking sound as the liquid from the animal bladder slowly flowed into the tube.

“Wuuuuuuu—”

“Quiet!!!”

Saranya’s face was ashen.

As she watched the column of liquid slowly pump into her, her last shred of hope finally died.

Pain, abdominal distension, and the sizzling sound of leaking fluid.

“Wound retractor, needle and thread, quickly!”

Despite Saranya’s distressed state, Cecilia remained utterly composed.

It was clear the physician was genuinely dedicated to healing her, and indeed, as her wound was opened, cleaned, and stitched, the situation slowly began to improve.

Still, Saranya yearned desperately for her mistress’s healing magic.

“Brandy.”

Cecilia poured the strong alcohol onto her wound, and Saranya’s head lolled, nearly blacking out from the pain.

Yet, the worst was still to come.

“Branding iron.”

“Nooooo…”

“Bear with it!”

“Sizzle.”

A plume of white vapor rose, and Saranya’s nostrils caught the pungent, acrid scent of burning flesh.

She couldn’t even muster a scream, her voice completely lost.

Cecilia let out a soft sigh and set down her tools.

“It’s done… Aquilis, I need to check on Kaelan. Remove the instrument here, and be careful to avoid Saranya’s front, don’t get—”

“Stop!”

Cecilia’s words were cut short by a cold, furious voice.

The curtain at the doorway trembled, and a petite, blood-stained girl burst into the room, her gaze instantly falling upon the three figures near the operating bed.

“What have you done to her?!”

“M-mistress…?”

“Kaelan?! Weren’t you gravely injured?!”

“Give her back… give my Little Ya back to me…”

A hint of madness laced Kaelan’s tone, her emotions clearly unstable, occasionally muttering to herself.

A dark, enigmatic magical energy swirled around the witch, seemingly possessing its own consciousness yet attuned to its mistress’s will, slowly mending the wounds on her body.

It appeared that defeating this witch entirely would be no simple feat; a bizarre power clung to her mistress, granting her a slow, self-healing ability even after being struck down.

Could it be… that her mistress was immortal?

“Get out…”

Kaelan rushed to Saranya’s side.

Upon seeing Saranya’s half-dead, miserable state, the expression on her face darkened to an extreme degree.

“Both of you, get out of here immediately before I change my mind!”

Cecilia insisted on saying something, but Aquilis tugged at the physician, pulling her away from Kaelan and waiting by the doorway.

“M-mistress… help…”

Saranya’s lower abdomen was already slightly distended, and she could still feel the liquid inside.

She frantically fumbled for the copper tube beneath her.

‘Oh no, I feel like I can’t hold it in!’

Her movements naturally caught Kaelan’s attention.

Only then did Kaelan spot the unsightly instrument.

Upon understanding the situation, the young witch’s expression froze in a stunned stupor for a moment.

“Little Ya… this is… huh…?”

“Mistress… please help…”

Kaelan forgot to breathe, as if profoundly shocked by the scene before her.

She stepped forward with a small foot and pressed down on the instrument’s pedal.

A strange glint appeared in her eyes, and her already slightly deranged expression now edged closer to utter collapse.

As if possessed, she gently pushed the pedal, causing the column of liquid in the tube to surge forward, accelerating once more.

“What does this instrument do… hee hee…”

Sensing her mistress’s intent, Saranya wanted to cry out for help, but the immense pressure from below made her dizzy, rendering her incapable of anything.

Kaelan pedaled faster and faster, eventually stomping on the pedal while muttering delirious gibberish.

“Yes… yes! Hee hee… although I can no longer turn you into a doll, this… this isn’t bad either… there are so many fun things waiting for us… Interesting… so interesting… hahahahaha—”

“Kaelan! Are you mad?! Wake up, your state isn’t normal, you’ll kill her!”

“!”

Finally, prompted by Cecilia’s warning, Kaelan vigorously shook her head, banishing the wild thoughts from her mind.

Immediately afterward, however, she adopted an expression of overwhelming guilt and dropped to her knees.

“I… I’m so sorry!!! Little Ya… I don’t want to lose you again… Little Ya forgive me forgive me forgive me forgive me forgive me wuwuwuwu—”

Clearly, her mistress’s mental state had not returned to normal; instead, she had fallen into a condition akin to psychosis.

Disregarding Aquilis’s attempts to stop her, Cecilia rushed back to Saranya’s bedside to administer aid.

However, before she could, Kaelan had already seized the copper tube and yanked it away from Saranya—

Saranya’s body arched sharply, convulsing violently as she released all the pressure that had accumulated throughout the procedure.

“Ugh-aaaaaahhhhhh-yiiiiiiiihhhhhhh—”

After a series of bizarre sounds concluded, Saranya felt an immediate sense of relief.

With a faint flush on her cheeks, she tilted her head to look at her mistress below.

“Ha… ha…”

Kaelan stood blankly, completely soaked, still clutching the copper tube that retained Saranya’s body heat.

Her cheeks glistened, gradually taking on a sickly blush.

The viscous medicinal fluid, mingled with blood and filth, pooled in the hollow of Kaelan’s collarbone, then slowly overflowed, soaking downward through her tattered clothes.

It stained her pale, unblemished thighs completely, finally trickling from her jade-like ankles to spread into a winding puddle on the floor, reflecting an amber glow under the candlelight.

Witnessing such a sanity-shattering spectacle, all three people in the room froze in stunned silence.

“So beautiful…”

Kaelan mechanically raised a hand, wiped her eyes, and obsessively twirled the liquid between her fingertips, murmuring softly, her expression both hazy and intoxicated.

“Little Ya… you’re so beautiful…”

After chanting like this for a while, the dark magical energy around the young witch gradually dissipated without a trace.

She herself collapsed to the ground, losing consciousness.