Chapter 303: You Can Always Trust Green

In the unbearable wait, two days passed.

As expected, a third tremor occurred, but it was noticeably weaker, happening at midnight; some deeply asleep people weren't even awakened.

Kraft temporarily returned to his regular duties, for he didn't know what else he could do.

The patient who underwent craniotomy finally woke slowly after a full day of deep sleep, his mental state appearing dull and sluggish, requiring prolonged thought to answer questions most people would reply to instantly.

His memory had also declined; he could no longer recall past events mentioned by family members and frequently forgot things that had just happened, even when specifically reminded.

In language, he showed signs of comprehension and expression difficulties—he couldn't understand fast-paced or lengthy sentences, struggled to construct clear logical statements, often got stuck mid-sentence as if suddenly forgetting how to say a word.

There were many other minor and major issues, including poor concentration, impaired motor function, and disorientation, likely caused by pressure damage from brain herniation, ischemia and hypoxia, and unresolved cerebral edema.

But to the patient's brother, the mere fact that he had woken was already a miracle, especially given the tube still dripping fluid from inside his skull and the unprotected area of his cranium gently rising and falling with pressure changes.

More concerning to Kraft than these was the patient's emerging fever—noticeable even without a thermometer, merely by rough sensation.

So far, only slight redness and swelling were observed at the incision edges, and the silver indwelling catheter showed no obvious purulent drainage.

Of course, even if something were wrong, little could be done. They could only give the patient herbal teas like elderberry and echinacea; at least elderberry was said to contain some anti-inflammatory and antimicrobial components, plus vitamin C, with a pleasantly sour-sweet, slightly bitter taste—not bad.

Dr. Dai Wei was very satisfied with this level of involvement and readily accepted several improvement suggestions.

Given that the current medical system still couldn't fully abandon herbal medicine, Kraft realized it was necessary to recruit some talent from this field, despite their mediocre performance.

Dai Wei still didn't know he had been added to the invitation list of a suspicious society.

Besides focusing on critical patients, Kraft also saw several consulting cases, adjusting displaced splints and disinfecting and changing wound dressings.

They brought news from across the city—about gushing groundwater, damaged buildings, and various unverifiable ominous rumors.

But one part Kraft most wanted to know was always missing—the royal family's movements: whether they were mobilizing personnel or using special means to quell the unrest underground.

Perhaps the upper echelons' actions were small and secretive enough that he hadn't heard of any mass appearances of armed personnel in the city.

Then an unexpected letter arrived on his desk, sealed with blue-mineral pigment—a unique color that always reminded one of its origin.

It was a friendly greeting from a high-end jewelry and medical equipment supplier, mentioning satisfactory acceptance of new equipment and interest in collaborating on new medicines, and ending with what appeared to be a courteous expression of concern for safety conditions.

Some unnamed influential figures had recently left the city, causing even nobles who hadn't planned to depart to waver—including the Sigor family themselves.

They planned a summer hunt, accompanied by equestrian competitions, knightly tournaments, and other social events, to be held far from Dunling.

As a cooperating friend, Francis Sigor proposed that all professors currently engaged in academic exchange join them, to avoid this period of widespread anxiety.

After all, if the important people had left, there must be good reason.

Similar invitation letters had already been delivered to other professors, implying there was no need to feel ashamed about fleeing—everyone was just going for social reasons.

【Huh?】

After reading the letter, only one interjection echoed repeatedly in Kraft's mind.

If he understood correctly, the party that should have taken action most urgently had chosen to run far away.

Reality might truly be the worst scenario he could imagine—the best way to escape deep influence was to amputate the affected part without hesitation and discard it entirely.

He should have realized this the moment he left—it was clear the soil sealing the secret passage beneath the coffin had hardened to the point where several men couldn't push it open, and the heretics had moved beneath for so long without detection. Clearly, they had prepared to permanently bury their past.

The cost was the loss of information. The current royal family was not the same as the one that once wielded the "Sword in the Stone"; they only knew the situation was dangerous and uncontrollable, with no response plan.

Though perhaps they hadn't had one back then either.

Now they could only rely on the Church—not to have a plan, but at least to send people to investigate the known facts.

Yet since that day he parted from Brother Wading, he had seen only one Church member—someone who came for emergency rescue after the incident at the Cathedral of the Mother, offering thanks on behalf of the church and its congregation.

Though Kraft didn't care much, they hadn't even provided financial support, only gifting a small object that looked somewhat cheap.

A standard double-winged protective amulet, carved from a translucent milky silicate stone, with an inscription on the back reading "Protected by the Faithful Father," and a signature he didn't recognize.

Its only redeeming quality was its smooth, pleasant texture—like opal or xiuyu jade.

He couldn't bring himself to slip it into his pocket right in front of them, so he held it for a moment before putting it away, treating it as a keepsake.

Such days passed for another two or three days; the critical patient stabilized after a brief fever and deterioration in consciousness, seemingly overcoming the local infection through his own immunity.

Just as Kraft was about to give in and seek out Wading, an unexpected visitor pushed open the clinic door.

He wasted no words, stating his purpose bluntly:

"I'm looking for Professor Kraft. Urgent matter."

A trainee, mistaking him for a critical emergency case, promptly led him to the doctor, interrupting his lunch.

"Why are you here?"

Seeing the man before him, Kraft rubbed his eyes, nearly doubting he was hallucinating—the confusion equal to spotting a patient who had just been taken off ICU monitoring ordering spicy hotpot at the next table while having dinner.

The man shot the trainee a sharp glance, sending him out, then shut the door himself: "We convinced them—at least some of them."

"Who are 'we' and 'them'?" Kraft couldn't comprehend—he'd even believe the man was a twin brother. "Aren't you supposed to be resting in that monastery?"

"Brother Sandor is gone. He was being held in a room on the upper floor of the monastery." Green recounted everything that had happened these past days himself. "With the monastery's control over its gates, he shouldn't have escaped."

"I used what you gave me in his room—it glowed."

"Rather than vanish without a trace, it's better to do something. I returned the next day—and the facts proved who was right. Ignoring what lies beneath only makes things worse."

"We should have cut off all abnormal activity at the earliest moment, at any cost, instead of hesitating out of fear of loss and letting it escalate to this point."

He paused, took a breath, and continued: "The Inquisitor-General supports me. He persuaded some bishops to let us act while others are busy transferring scriptures and treasures as 'insurance.'"

"We now need a reliable professional to accompany us. I hope you haven't changed your mind."

"Of course not."