Chapter 213: Selective Materialism

The sound gave the targetless swordsman a direction once more.

The response was swift, sharp, and silent. From the moment he heard the first syllable leave his lips, he moved, shifting from standing still with a hanging sword to motion.

Using the voice to mask the friction noise of his long strides closing the distance, the hidden whistle of the air cutting through merged with the tremor of his speech; as he thrust, he lowered the angle slightly, aiming at the chest to increase the hit rate.

Before the words had finished, the sword tip was already at close range.

Kraft almost thought the opponent could see in pure darkness, but observation confirmed the swordsman's movements were indeed based on limited non-visual judgment, sensitively probing the air for information to guide him, then swiftly launching an attack.

A technique with highly flexible, entangling characteristics, as if shedding the hard nature of metal, moving with an extremely cold, fluid posture like a living snake hunting, biting down on its target.

"I feel there is some misunderstanding causing you to form a wrong impression of a harmless scholar." Like a performer waving a red cloth to attract a bull, Kraft shifted his step aside a moment before the blade reached him, letting the opponent crash into the wall along his own momentum.

This jammed the weapon into a pile of bones and stones stacked as a wall, producing a grating, teeth-aching, heart-painful friction sound.

The bone pile loosened; a skull from above fell, rolling far across the ground, scrambling the source of the sound.

And that calm, frustration-inducing voice rang in his ear, "A cultivator, or perhaps I should say a priest? Sorry, I'm not quite sure how to address you; after all, as an ordinary person, I lack understanding of the Inquisition."

The swordsman tried to pull his weapon from the stuck position, but a force twisted his wrist, forcing him to release the hilt.

He chose not to resist, reaching his left hand toward his waist. Kraft immediately judged the meaning of this movement; he had intended to strike his ribs, but considering the current lack of conditions to treat massive internal organ hemorrhage, he instead pressed the sword hilt against the armpit.

Amidst the numbness and soreness like waking from a long sleep with an arm under a pillow, the counterattack was interrupted; the short sword slipped from his hand and fell. Taking advantage of the opponent being thoroughly stunned, the "harmless scholar" yanked the lantern with movable parts from the other side of the opponent's waist, stepped back a few paces, and opened the metal living hinge.

Light returned to the chaotic battlefield.

"You see, we can talk in the light." Kraft stepped aside from the sword stuck in the bone thicket and generously drew his own weapon into its sheath.

Kup and the armored figure retreated warily, moving apart to stand on opposite sides. One dark, one bright before their eyes; their fight ended before it even began, with only rich sound effects heard.

And that incredibly skilled swordsman, the leader in priestly attire seen in the church procession on the day of their arrival, stared at Kraft with suspicion and uncertainty, slowly approaching the wall and drawing his sidearm with both hands.

"This does not seem like a professor."

"Are all priests of Dunling like this?"

An eerie silence blocked further communication, but the previous exchange had given the Inquisition members a clear understanding of the current situation; force would bring no improvement to the situation.

If this professor suddenly had some bold idea, in this ghostly place where Heaven is too far and Hell is too near, who knows whether their next trip to the medical school would be walking, lying down, or in batches. So it was best to choose a civilized method, for the time being.

"Under the Father, there are also sword-wielding angels, for reason and righteousness cannot subdue evil spirits." Stroking from the blade to the winged guard, he was not surprised to have his identity recognized; after all, he had never intended to hide the signature item from the moment he struck. However, the awkwardness lay in finding no substantive doubts, yet being countered.

Neither reason nor momentum held the upper hand; the opponent was still a person of some standing, currently behaving appropriately, which was simply a headache. "A medical school professor, needing a sword to cure illness? Or perhaps there is a patient you need here?"

"Oh, a sword is not needed when curing illness, but sometimes we encounter subjects with different views on treatment; professionalism alone cannot persuade." Like most scholars in the academy, this professor maintained that surface courtesy.

Considering the two sides had just engaged in a fierce exchange, such composure was among the best in the university.

It even came with a friendly, humorous smile, yet a subtle dissonance made one feel it was a layer of habitual shell-like mask formed by years of upbringing and accumulated knowledge, the hard, brittle exterior of a mollusk or cocoon, concealing the true thoughts and emotions writhing and flowing within, or something even more hidden.

The experience of serving in the Inquisition provided this intuitive feeling; he had found no counterpart on anyone attempting to conceal secrets, yet could perceive the special nature through some a priori understanding.

It seemed as if some irrational pain was being suppressed, yet he was certain his swordsmanship, which he took pride in, had not caused even a single scratch.

"So... Cultivator, Priest, or Your Excellency the Inquisitor?"

The tone was calm and even as he inquired; he realized he had momentarily lost consciousness. With this professor's level, he could have made him walk back and forth before the gates of Heaven in that instant.

But those long hands remained clasped before him, carrying no danger, just like his expression.

"If a title is absolutely necessary, you may call me Father Green." Continuing to hold the weapon now would only show cowardice. The man who called himself a priest shoved the chipped sword back into its sheath, savoring that fleeting strange impression, but it vanished like a peculiar imagination sparked by the flickering image of a flame at a certain moment, an inspiration so fleeting it could not be recalled.

"You have not yet answered my second question: why come here?"

"To investigate the number of people in this locality who died of tuberculosis; this will help me understand the workload ahead better." Kraft touched his empty pocket, confirming he had indeed not casually taken anything, and spoke with righteous confidence, "I haven't touched anything; there is no rule saying only mourners can enter a graveyard, is there?"

"Is that your reason?" The priest felt he must raise some doubts, otherwise today would become a huge stain on his life.

"As the head of the Tuberculosis and Rare Diseases Medical Society personally established by the Duke, I believe no one should raise doubts about this. You can write to Rivers University, or even Westmin Castle to verify and inquire—if you truly have the ability to contact the latter directly."

That was it; nothing more to ask. From the Duke onwards, the rest basically didn't need to be heard. A person who could pull such backing credentials, even if caught dissecting something right there in the lab, would be too troublesome to deal with, let alone without concrete evidence.

However, the benefit was that there was no need to worry about accidentally stumbling upon some secret and being silenced out of risk, because for a figure of such stature, it was completely unnecessary.

Green figured this out and realized he was in an awkward state: further questioning had no reason, yet stepping back and giving up was hard to accept.

And the professor, whose desire to communicate seemed strong, took the initiative to start the topic: "If it is convenient, I would still like to ask: how did a law-abiding doctor like me come to your interest?"

"In the last few days, we heard some rumors in the New District." Recounting the story, the more Green thought about it, the more he felt his deduction was flawless. "Claiming there is someone who can cure diseases through touch, and it spread quickly in a short time."

"Indeed exaggerated; I can only improve some symptoms of tuberculosis, but what is the problem with that?" Kraft felt quite innocent; before this, folk rumors even claimed the King's touch could cure tuberculosis.

"We oppose all acts that openly proclaim unnatural powers."

"Ah?" This statement would be normal from anyone, but placed here, it felt somewhat like a role reversal.

Seeing Kraft disbelieve, he reaffirmed it with certainty: "We oppose any act that openly proclaims unnatural powers. There exists only the Lord with abilities beyond the mundane world; all true extraordinary powers originate from the Lord, and the Lord's gifts are absolutely not for mortals to display and glorify; doing so teaches people to believe in miracles rather than righteousness."

"Therefore, publicly proclaiming existing, accessible unnatural abilities is necessarily contrary to doctrine; and publicly proclaiming unnatural powers while gathering large numbers of people, with rapid expansion of influence in a short time..." This was already stated very clearly.

【Heresy】

It was hard not to admit he had a point. From an observer's perspective, the argument was very persuasive.

"We conducted an investigation and heard you came to Dunling for exchange with a 'transparent liquid that causes temporary loss of all perception,' and that it originated from 'refinement.'" He paused, looking at Kraft; the reflection of the lamp light in his pupils flashed sharply, trying to find any emotional leakage available for analysis.

Hearing this, the professor, who had been calm and untroubled, frowned, then relaxed.

"And this is very similar to whatever you were previously concerned about?"

I'm back after finishing my exams! |w｀)

By the way, recommending a book: "Shadow of Great Britain," found it on NGA, feels very interesting.

(End of Chapter)