A special sucrose solution had been applied to the rose pistils.
Ruby hummingbirds, specifically trained, could track the scent from a great distance to find their destination.
Valo-Ramsey explained that this tracking method likely originated from local gangs.
In recent years, operating as a gang in major cities had become difficult.
Following Vitz V’s ascension to the throne, regulation in this area had been significantly tightened.
Many gang members had been forced into factory work.
In smaller cities, where the economy faltered, gangs tended to be somewhat more prevalent.
In any case, this provided a crucial lead.
Then there was the old man who delivered the flowers.
Identifying these issues within two hours was made possible by the convenient method of Dream Replication.
However, it came with certain limitations.
It had to be performed within five hours of the incident.
The later it was performed, the less information could be gleaned.
Nor was it guaranteed to succeed every time.
Certain special items could extend the duration of a Dream Replication.
Konehl-Ghervil pondered, realizing she hadn’t provoked anyone in the past two days.
Least of all the local gangs.
Bishop Gomor, Father Asriel, and Dr. Schmidt were all aligned, desiring the case to be resolved.
The Baron had no motive; killing her would deny him the vital ingredients for the Nightmare Revelation.
‘Could it be the faction intent on making the abbey disappear?’
‘That seems rather unlikely.’
Employing assassins directly… Logically, it would have been far easier in Mistfall City.
The gangs there outnumbered those in Florence City.
There would have been no need to wait until now.
Considering Ishmele-Esli’s status as an official Plague Knight, it was inconceivable that such individuals wouldn’t have possessed this information.
Sending two ordinary individuals essentially ruled out that possibility.
That left only the locals as suspects.
Valo-Ramsey held a similar opinion.
He arranged for people to investigate through the night.
As the others departed, the time crept past two in the morning.
“Gather your belongings,” Valo-Ramsey said. “I’ll take you to my place for the night.”
He sat on a stone by the door, puffing on his pipe.
Two agents remained behind to drive the car.
The windows of the room, occupied for only a single night, were shattered, and the door was broken.
Staying there was no longer an option; their location had been compromised, and it was unsafe.
Govet-Ghervil, perched on her shoulder, nodded in agreement.
Ishmele-Esli was indifferent, ready to follow Konehl-Ghervil wherever she went.
Yet another question lingered.
“What about compensation?”
She cast a helpless glance at the man.
A house where someone had died would be nearly impossible to rent out again.
“The Epidemic Prevention Bureau will handle it,” Valo-Ramsey replied, raking his fingers through his hair to reveal his hairline, then stood and leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head.
“Now is not the time to dwell on trivialities. Aren’t you feeling tired?”
This was a subtle reminder of her condition.
Indeed, to mitigate the worsening of her narcolepsy, she needed to ensure ample sleep each day.
Konehl-Ghervil, no longer standing on ceremony, nodded in assent and began to pack her belongings.
It wasn’t much; the flowers Ishmele-Esli had purchased had all been taken by the agents for examination, so her packing was swiftly completed.
Half an hour later, they settled into two guest rooms that Valo-Ramsey had hastily prepared at his home.
“Rest well,” he advised, “and don’t worry too much. Once you wake, you can go to The Order; it will be safe there.”
With that, he ceased disturbing the young woman and descended to the first floor to instruct his subordinates on the next steps.
Konehl-Ghervil, despite her lack of inclination to sleep, lay down and pulled the covers over herself.
“That petal…”
Her voice was laced with exhaustion.
“It was merely a common Blood Rose petal, nourished by ox blood.”
Govet-Ghervil lay beside her head.
“This is quite normal. To the Hospital Department, we are essentially unknown entities, requiring a test to prove our worth.”
“They are quite cautious, it seems…”
Closing her eyes, a prolonged silence settled, and Konehl-Ghervil gradually felt drowsiness creeping in.
“Did you see anything in the dream?”
“By the time I sensed the anomaly and entered the dream to survey my surroundings, the assailant had already been lying in ambush for quite some time.”
“When the assailant pressed the gun against my head…”
“It was the only way. Capturing him alive was not an option, and my current strength is insufficient to control him for long.”
“I wasn’t blaming you,” she shifted slightly, turning her back to the fluffy ball, “I just wanted to thank you, sister.”
****
The following morning, at ten o’clock, after finishing breakfast at Valo-Ramsey’s home, he personally escorted them to Rose Manor.
The Order had been notified in advance and prepared two rooms for their internal personnel.
Bishop Gomor considered Konehl-Ghervil’s assault to be extremely serious and intended to report it.
She stopped him.
Her stated reason was that if the incident became too public, her identity might be exposed, hindering the investigation.
In truth, she knew that reporting it wouldn’t lead to a better solution.
A Plague Knight had already been assigned as a bodyguard.
If Ishmele-Esli couldn’t protect her, others would likely be useless.
At present, the only course of action was to actively uncover the mastermind behind it all.
Having settled in and applied her makeup, Konehl-Ghervil, at two in the afternoon, rode to the agreed meeting place with Dr. Schmidt.
There, she parted ways with Valo-Ramsey, who was off to investigate the gang lead.
At the home of the old man on Hundred Flowers Street who had delivered Ishmele-Esli’s roses, agents sent shortly after the incident discovered the old man had already vanished.
Currently, Valo-Ramsey and the Epidemic Prevention Bureau were handling the assault case, while Konehl-Ghervil sought to gain the trust of the Hospital Department and become involved in the disappearance case.
The Glenny Medical Center, in its entirety, resembled a church.
It featured red brick exterior walls, stained-glass rose windows, arched ceilings, and a symmetrical structure.
Among its decorative frescoes were elements associated with goddesses, depicting closed eyes, slumbering worshippers, and fantastical, unbridled scenes.
Konehl-Ghervil even suspected the hospital had originally been a church, later converted.
Being a Monday, the hospital was bustling.
Doctors in white lab coats and nurses in specially designed white dresses could be seen moving to and fro.
Soon after entering the central hall, a female doctor with her hair tied back approached them with a smile.
“Are you Ms. Rowan and Knight Ishmele-Esli, please?”
“Yes, I’m looking for Dr. Schmidt.”
“I know. Please follow me; I’ve been instructed.”
Without further words, Konehl-Ghervil exchanged a glance with the knight, and both followed the doctor.
The exterior medical area did not appear overly old, likely due to regular maintenance.
Passing through the long corridor of the medical wing, they reached the back courtyard.
The buildings here clearly showed their age.
They weren’t dilapidated, merely somewhat antiquated.
The walls of a five-story apothecary building were faded.
On the second floor, several brown wooden shutters hung half-open, clattering softly as the wind passed through them.
In contrast, this area was considerably quieter, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle.
The sounds of the wind and rustling leaves easily soothed the mind.
To the west of the apothecary building stood a small chapel, with a graveyard behind it.
Proceeding further, they traversed a maze-like area of neatly trimmed shrubs, before a circular flowerbed came into view.
Konehl-Ghervil’s pupils widened slightly.
She instantly recognized them as Blood Roses, hundreds of them.
The rose garden encircled a Gothic building, roughly fifteen stories tall and quite substantial in scale.
This building, it seemed, was their destination.
“The petal you gave me,” Konehl-Ghervil inquired from behind, as they walked along a path leading to the center, “it must have come from one of these, didn’t it?”
“If you’re referring to these Blood Roses, each worth ten Trin Gold Coins, you’ll have to go inside to find out,” the doctor replied, not directly answering the question, but prompting Ishmele-Esli to halt her attempt to pluck a flower.
“Good thing you asked quickly,” Ishmele-Esli exclaimed, a shiver of dread running through her, “otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to afford the compensation!”
She hastily caught up, thanking Konehl-Ghervil profusely.
Govet-Ghervil cast a disdainful look her way.
Upon entering the building, Konehl-Ghervil finally saw the kind of black robe Dr. Callan wore, donned by a woman emerging from a room.
This must have been where the Florence City Hospital Department was stationed.
It was far more opulent than she had imagined; the interior décor materials were akin to those she had only ever seen in the Royal Bank of Mistfall City.
Yet, this peculiar place lacked an elevator, and the stairs stretched seemingly endlessly, leaving her utterly exhausted by the time she followed the guiding doctor to the top floor.
As expected, Ishmele-Esli remained perfectly unbothered, breathing evenly, her gaze darting around with curiosity.
Only one room existed on this floor.
‘Does Dr. Schmidt work here?’ Konehl-Ghervil mused inwardly.
“Knight Ishmele-Esli, please wait outside for a moment.”
Konehl-Ghervil sensed something amiss when the doctor stopped Ishmele-Esli.
Meeting an ordinary doctor shouldn’t have required such an elaborate arrangement—and if Dr. Schmidt held a high position, they wouldn’t be running errands personally.
Feigning composure, she instructed Ishmele-Esli to follow the doctor’s directions.
Pushing open the door, the sight that greeted her extinguished the last flicker of hope in her heart.
Inside the spacious room, a woman with long golden hair sat on a burgundy hardwood sofa.