Training

In truth, Lynch did end up falling asleep, though not for long, and he had been constantly plagued by bizarre dreams, waking up with an aching back and sore waist.

Upon waking, he listened blankly to the bustling everyday noises from Charles Square outside the window, momentarily unable to tell dream from reality.

It wasn't until the familiar sounds of tidying came from downstairs that he snapped out of his daze. He quickly threw on his finest suit, gathered all his miscellaneous belongings, and leapt straight out the window, landing squarely in front of the kitchen window—coming face-to-face with Mrs. Maggie inside.

He had originally wanted to avoid an awkward encounter, but now there was no avoiding it.

“I've got business at the Church of Suffering today—hahaha! Faster this way—hahaha! See you later!”

While Mrs. Maggie appeared completely unruffled, Lynch was blushing furiously. Spouting words he could barely comprehend himself, he spun on his heel and bolted.

Behind him, a pair of smiling eyes watched the frantic, retreating figure through the window. Yet the owner of that gaze didn't notice another pair of eyes behind her, watching her with deep suspicion.

Little Martha wore a look of utter perplexity. Mom is acting a bit strange today.

None of that concerned the fleeing Lynch anymore, however; he had far more important business today.

Meeting with quite a few ladies.

Indeed, on the morning of June 28, Mr. Lynch Levive found himself surrounded by a large gathering of women.

If there was one thing the Temple of Suffering didn't lack, it was women—and every single one of them was a nurse in uniform. Lynch was dazzled by the sight, finding it even more stimulating than last night.

Still, he hadn't come today to look at nurses; his primary mission was to receive professional training.

Postpartum care for the human-faced fruit... no, cultivation techniques for the human-faced fruit.

It was a mysterious plant dating back to the Third Age, said to have often caused considerable casualties in its time. Its seeds could retain their vitality for thousands of years, which was why it could still be cultivated to this day.

The human-faced fruit required blood and souls for nourishment. Once mature, it would automatically absorb flesh and blood within its range to grow at an explosive pace.

In other words, failure to harvest it in time would invite disaster.

It was a dangerous thing, but fortunately, it took only forty-eight hours from planting to maturation. Even if one had to watch over it without sleep or rest, it wouldn't be unbearable.

The fruits would alter their appearances according to the cultivators who nurtured them. Within the occult domain, they symbolized the cultivators themselves to a certain degree.

This was precisely the reason why Mrs. Nightingale was cultivating them.

The entire cultivation process was meticulous work. The slightest misstep would cause them to drop, after which they would rapidly wither. It reminded Lynch of the Ginseng Fruits from a certain manor back in his past life. Of course, this thing was entirely inedible; consuming it would cause one's mind to resonate with the Dreamlands, plunging them straight into madness.

All in all, aside from needing careful handling, the cultivation process held no particular difficulties. Perhaps the only true challenge was ensuring the cultivator stayed alive.

Because the cultivation site was inside a disaster grade mystery relic—and that was the real trouble.

【Sven's Blessing: My dearest daughter, my love for you shall never fade】

This was an unadorned silver ring without gemstones. It was said to be a wedding gift from a Third Age farmer named Sven to his daughter. However, the city where his daughter lived was subsequently attacked by a legion of ghouls and ultimately fell, leaving only seven survivors. His daughter's entire family perished, and after farmer Sven found his daughter's mutilated corpse, he died in agonizing grief.

Lynch found its effect utterly repulsive: it suppressed all abilities under the Death authority within a hundred-meter radius. This included Lynch's favorite Death Coil and End Resonance, effectively crippling more than half of his combat power.

Furthermore, it could even suppress the innate physical traits of mysterious creatures, and without any limit on quantity. If one carried this while fighting ghouls, Lynch felt he could take one on in single combat.

Lynch figured this effect was more than worthy of its danger level.

However, once it entered an uncontrolled state, its effect was equally headache-inducing: it would convert all humanoid corpses within a five-kilometer radius into mindless ghouls that would claw their way out from beneath the earth by any means necessary.

Also without limit on quantity.

The bizarre effect gave Lynch the sudden urge to take a stroll through a cemetery. Tomorrow's newspapers would surely have plenty to write about, and Maya would have her hands full. But after a casual glance from Officer Natalie, he immediately dismissed the thought, sparing his shins and insteps from certain doom.

“The operation the day after tomorrow will take place in an open field on the outskirts of the city.”

The speaker was a graceful woman in her thirties known as Madam Dess. She appeared to be of noble descent and was in charge of the primary instruction. Mrs. Nightingale was absent, having far too many matters to attend to, though she dropped by occasionally to check in and show her concern for Lynch.

Meanwhile, Miss Natalie and Miss Diana sat in on the lecture as well; the two of them would be entering with Lynch.

When entering an uncontrolled mystery relic to suppress it, the party size generally did not exceed four people. Even for a manifestation grade mystery relic, it was kept under eight.

On one hand, too many people caused chaos and increased the risk of mishaps, not to mention the heightened chance of unreliable individuals slipping in.

On the other hand, the memories within a mystery relic stemmed from mysterious filth and had a maximum capacity. Just as they could be destroyed by stronger mysteries, if too many people entered and exceeded that limit, troublesome complications would arise. In the worst-case scenario, the relic itself would collapse directly, just like when that Mirror of Falsehood and Reality was shattered. When that happened, everyone inside would perish unless their strength was great enough to directly contend with a mystery of that level.

Thus, it was ultimately decided that four people would enter: three low-tier Soul Severers who completely trusted one another, paired with a relatively trustworthy mid-tier one. That ought to be enough to handle a disaster grade—that is, rank three—relic running rampant.

As for that fourth candidate... Lynch glanced at the woman beside them, unsure whether she was daydreaming or listening.

Judy.

Why am I always surrounded by women? The thought flickered through Lynch's mind.

And why did she only take three seconds to agree? That was his second question.

A cultist casually sitting inside the church of a major god was practically an open provocation. If it were a fanatic like Rooney from the Church of the Sun, battle would have probably broken out by now. But Goddess Fiona was always gentle and showed no extreme reaction, letting this follower of the Lady of Fire space out in her temple.

Of course, this made the two ladies look at Lynch with even stranger expressions, though Lynch maintained that he was entirely innocent.

After all, he was helpless in this regard—every combatant he knew was dead, leaving only her. It wasn't as if he could go asking Mr. V.

At any rate, alongside the training for cultivating the human-faced fruit, the four of them needed to undergo training regarding the mystery relic.

“On the morning of July 2, I will escort you to the designated location. We have already hired people to clear it out beforehand—namely, triggering the relic into an uncontrolled state and then purifying all the ghouls that crawled out. Thus, the environment there is completely safe right now, with no need to worry about causing a disaster.”

“The memory within spans the five days during which the small town of Chika was breached by the ghoul legion, ending automatically upon Sven's eventual death.”

“The scope of the memory is confined to the small town of Chika. You must ensure Chika holds out for more than two days; only then will you be able to harvest the human-faced fruit smoothly.”

“Wait,” Lynch interrupted the lesson. “How many days was it originally supposed to hold out?”

“Three days, but that was in history. While the relic's memory progresses according to historical development, any variable can alter its trajectory—such as your arrival. Therefore, it's very possible for it to fall ahead of schedule.”

“Alright, and what after that?”

“After that, you must find a way out, which means suppressing the uncontrolled relic. Because the previous suppression attempt failed, you will have to figure out the method of suppression on your own. If you truly cannot suppress it, you can only wait for Sven to die. However, it is said that he only entered the town and died after the ghouls had receded, whereas you will be inside the town, so...”

Madam Dess suddenly fell silent, and Lynch and the others grasped the problem as well.

“We'll have to face the massive ghoul legion?” Lynch sighed. “How many?”

“Three thousand.”

Fuck.

The scene of sewer ghouls tearing apart abandoned train carriages flashed through Lynch's mind.

Before he could say anything more, a young girl in white robes came rushing in.

She, too, was a faithful of Suffering. The moment she entered, she shouted anxiously, “This is bad! Something's happened out in the front church! A huge wave of injured people suddenly arrived, and they've almost filled the entire hall!”

A subtle smile suddenly crept onto Lynch's face, and he winked at the two ladies beside him.