Chapter 426 Juanno? Horn?

"Wasn't he getting better just now? Why is he not doing well again? What kind of medical skills are you using?"

"That's impossible. Let me see...hiss, how about you use magic to keep yourself alive while I do some research."

"This is a witch, what kind of life-saving magic is this?! Is it to save life or to take life?"

The sound that came and went beside her woke Catherine from her confusion, but she could not make a sound.

She just felt as if she was floating in mid-air and her whole body was falling towards the sky.

The violent magic power crystallized the blood and organs bit by bit. These tiny crystals condensed in Catherine's flesh and blood, draining away her last bit of vitality.

Even the witch's extraordinary vitality and physique could not stop the life from flowing out of her body.

"Hey, maybe the blood-sucking vine sucked your blood and transfused it into the body of this witch, so it is effective?"

"The blood types may not be the same. Don't give me bad ideas. Why not try taking blood orally? Maybe it's not a problem with the blood, but a problem with the mana. I don't know if it's too late."

"Didn't you say last time that the absorption rate of backdoor administration is twice that of oral administration? We can do enema. If we want to be more efficient, one drop of semen is ten drops of blood..."

Hearing this, even if Catherine's consciousness was blurred, after hearing the word "enema", she used all her strength to stop it: "No, don't..."

I don’t know if the doctor heard it clearly, but Catherine once again lost the ability to speak.

This was her first prayer to the Lord, hoping that the healer would hear what she said.

However, in her hazy consciousness, she did hear the young man scolding the witch doctor, the shrimp-headed man, which made Catherine feel a little more at ease.

She waited for an unknown amount of time, perhaps a second or perhaps an hour. She could no longer feel the passage of time and just closed her eyes quietly.

Then, a drop of warm liquid flowed from the lips.

Just with this one drop of iron-smelling liquid, Catherine felt that her dying body had regained some vitality.

The previously exhausted internal organs began to move again, the coagulated blood crystallized, and flowed throughout the body again with the beating of the heart.

Catherine raised her chin greedily and sucked the bleeding finger into her mouth with her plump pale lips.

The soft tongue licked the fingers unsatisfiedly, and the tongue was full of salty taste.

Drops of blood flowed into her mouth, and the violent magic power that was running rampant in Catherine's body gradually returned to order.

All that violent power was poured into the few remaining blood-sucking vines lying on her body.

When the blood-sucking vines on Catherine's body fell off, a few blushes finally appeared on her originally pale face.

The finger that was bleeding with strange blood finally pulled out a long string of saliva from her and was retracted.

Losing the feeling of being filled, Catherine felt several witch doctors and nuns surrounding her and starting to clean her wounds.

Finally, he gave her a bowl of garlic-scented potion.

Catherine's consciousness fell into darkness again.

…………

"Katherine, Katherine?"

Who, who is calling me? Catherine raised her head suddenly.

"Catherine, run, Catherine——"

The mother in front of him, wearing a linen dress, was pressed on the table by several bandit deserters and screamed in despair.

This was the day when her yard was broken into by deserters.

This scene, which had appeared in her dreams countless times, made Catherine stretch out her hand numbly, and the weeds from the floor tiles grew out and strangled the soldiers to death.

It was only when her body ran uncontrollably towards her mother's arms that she could feel her mother's body was noticeably stiff and cold.

"I'm sorry, Mom, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

I heard my mother's whispers in my ears, and when her arms opened, I was already in the deep forest outside the city.

Bears, wolves and even wild dogs surrounded her, and her only food were the few pieces of black bread in her backpack.

She walked and walked in the forest, was caught on tree branches, bitten by wild dogs, and ate all the bread. The few copper coins she had left were only exchanged for a glass of water.

Until she met a group of refugees. These kind refugee families took her in, let her go with them, and even shared the food they begged with her.

Looking at those enthusiastic faces, Catherine really didn't know what expression to make, as she already knew her final fate.

"Get out of here, witch! Get out of here! You beast deserves to go to hell!" "Catch her! Catch her! She's a witch. If you can catch her alive, you'll at least get a knighthood."

The familiar refugees held up their torches, while Catherine ran through the bushes, and the witcher stepped on the fluffy snow, chasing after her like a ghost.

Until she saw a cliff, she jumped down, rolled into the icy lake, climbed up trembling, and thus survived.

When she looked up again, Catherine's emotions finally fluctuated.

A middle-aged priest in a black monk's robe, with gray hair on his temples, was sitting by the campfire holding an oil lamp. He smiled and handed her a small box.

"Want some cookies?"

"Teacher——" As if all the grievances turned into tears and flowed out, Catherine moved her short legs and pounced on him, but missed.

There was only a puff of smoke that dissipated.

The following scenes were faster and faster. Juanno's face, Meliati's face, Mitternich's face, Karl's face, Sissi's face, and Fredian's face flashed before his eyes one by one.

"Catherine, Catherine, stop reading, your eyes are damaged." It was Meliati's voice.

"Catherine, ah, I remember your father, Mefford Magdi. You are his illegitimate daughter? You took over his chamber of commerce?" It was Fredian's voice.

"Damn it, she cheated. Why does she have so many madders?" Mitternich, who was Catherine's rival at the time, said in a broken voice.

"Greetings to you, I am Carl, the Knight Commander of the Kush Black Knights, Carl!" This was the young Carl who joined the Magdi Chamber of Commerce under the introduction of Juanno.

Countless sounds gathered in my ears, so close, yet so far away. The scenes recalled in the dream changed faster and faster, and finally froze into a final picture.

That was the night she went to visit Juanno, and she had little idea of ​​the cruelty of what she was about to do.

On the last day of that night, as she left the cell with her back to the cell, she finally heard the last words Juanno said behind her.

"I have taught you everything I should have taught you. I am old now, and the rest is up to you."

The moment Catherine turned her head, the orphan Catherine's rag-picking grandfather Juanno jumped into the fire set up by the church.

In the raging fire, she did not wait for Meliati's rescue. Catherine, hugged by the maids, could only hold back her tears and watch the old man who was both her teacher and father being burned to death alive.

“No, no—teacher, teacher…teacher?”

With tears streaming from her eyes, Catherine suddenly stretched out her hand, but only grabbed the floral bed curtain in front of her.

The wind outside the window made the bed curtains sway back and forth, and the closed window leaves were blown against the window frame by the wind, and the bustling and boiling noise of people gradually became clear.

In her blurred vision, the originally clear and colorful light from the stained glass windows turned into countless yellow, green, white and blue halos, crowding in front of her eyes.

Supported by the soft velvet mattress, Catherine felt dizzy and exhausted just by sitting up.

In this dizziness, Catherine lifted the bed curtain that blocked her view.

Next to the white wooden four-poster bed, a priest in a black monk's robe was sitting on a mahogany chair with straw padding. A book was placed on his knees, and every now and then he would pick up a biscuit and put it in his mouth.

For a moment, Catherine thought she was still in the Blago Monastery and had just woken up from a nap.

The teacher sat by the window, quietly reading "The Tragedy of Sister Nun" which he bought at the market.

There was no killing and fire, no betrayal and intrigue, only that sunny afternoon that was so bright that there was not a single worry in one's mind.

It was as if everything she had experienced before was just a dream that afternoon.

The black figure in front of her was exactly the same as the black-robed monk Juanno in her memory, and she seemed to be still that little girl.

Catherine hurriedly grabbed the glasses on the bedside table, put them on her tear-blurred eyes, and rushed towards the figure in the halo.

"teacher--"

The plump flesh bomb hit his chest and a pair of white arms wrapped around his neck, frightening Horn so much that biscuit crumbs almost came out of his nostrils.

Holding the soft waist in his arms, he was at a loss for three seconds. Then he patted Catherine's back helplessly and pushed away the witch Catherine who was so enthusiastic when they met for the first time.

"Aunt Catherine, there's something wrong with the prescription of your glasses. I'm not Mr. Juanno."

"You, you are, who are you?" Katherine rubbed her eyes and let go of her hand. She seemed to be still in a dream and sat on Horn's lap in a daze. "What did you call me?"

"I should call you aunt. You are a generation older than me." Horn put the book aside and introduced himself almost face to face. "I have heard of the great name of Magde Rose for a long time. I am honored to meet you today. I am Horn Garrar, the one in the church propaganda--"

"The demon Horn?" Catherine was still confused. She woodenly held her little hand painted with rose nail polish on Horn's gauze-wrapped fingers.

"It's the Holy Grandson, Horn," Horn corrected.

(End of this chapter)