Chapter 144: The Doctor's Erosion

Fontaine City, at a bench

“Ah!!”

The doctor lying on the bench suddenly let out a heart-wrenching scream, then abruptly sat up. The excruciating pain twisting through every corner of his body was mercilessly shattering his sanity.

It hurt so much!

It was unbearably agonizing!

Opposite him, the servant groaned softly as he slowly rose. Though both had been subjected to the water dragon’s strangulation by Lu Mingfei, the pace differed.

When Lu Mingfei killed the servant, his movements were swift and decisive, without a hint of hesitation. Thus, the servant’s death was mercifully quick, sparing him needless suffering. The doctor’s case was different; Lu Mingfei’s strangling was noticeably slower, forcing him to fully endure the pain.

More importantly, the servant’s condition was comparatively stable, but the doctor had been tormented repeatedly in the dreamscape by Lu Mingze and the servant. The cumulative damage inflicted unbearable agony far beyond what the servant endured.

“Todore, your singing is quite lovely.”

The servant sneered mockingly.

“Your echoing voice isn’t bad either.”

The doctor swiftly calmed his breath and coldly looked at Arechino.

At the same time, the grass deity’s heart within him was gradually emanating green energy to repair his soul. Although elemental healing was slow, it was at least somewhat effective.

The grass god’s heart also possessed the ability to interfere with dreamlike souls. For now, the doctor was not ready to reveal all his cards, so he only released a small portion of its power to mend his damaged soul.

Though this risked exposure, not using it meant that if the servant struck again, he would likely be killed outright.

So he had to heal, despite the danger!

At least to delay death a little longer.

“This bench looks quite nice. Why don’t you just rest here for a while?” the servant taunted.

“Why doesn’t the Hearthfire House have benches? Are you allergic to benches, perhaps?” the doctor retorted.

Tension thickened between them like gunpowder ready to ignite. Although the servant was clearly in better shape, the doctor dared not show weakness; any sign of faltering would mean death.

The servant was equally aware. She knew that the core of Fuenina’s plan revolved around the doctor and the traveler, with the traveler ultimately tasked to execute the doctor. She only needed to wear him down slightly—no need for a fight to the death.

As a double agent, the most crucial thing was to understand one’s mission.

Their eyes locked, the battle ready to erupt at any moment but held back. The doctor hesitated; the servant restrained herself.

Just then, a clear voice rang out nearby.

“Ah~ I’m full, that meal was so delightful, it felt like heaven!”

The doctor and the servant instinctively glanced toward the corner, where Paimon appeared, followed by the traveler. Their expressions shifted dramatically in an instant.

“Hey, traveler, why did your face suddenly turn pale? Thinking of something troubling?” Paimon tilted her head, resting her chin on one hand in curiosity.

“Look behind you.”

The traveler spoke.

“Behind me?”

Paimon looked back obediently. Her eyes immediately met the fierce gazes of the servant and the doctor.

“Ah! It’s the doctor and the servant!!”

She cried out, fluttering away cautiously behind the traveler, peeking out nervously at the two enforcers who had fixed their deadly stares on them, fearful they might be turned into emergency rations.

The traveler instinctively shielded Paimon, gazing at the two enforcers and said, “Why don’t you continue? I won’t disturb you. Oh, and my Paimon forgot to wash up—gotta go back and clean her face.”

“Hmph!”

The servant snorted coldly, lowering her stance as if reluctantly forced by the traveler’s presence. The doctor subtly adjusted his contact lenses toward the traveler, as though conveying an important message.

The traveler nodded slightly in response.

“Heh~”

The doctor smiled calmly, inwardly grateful the traveler had arrived. There was now a chance the servant wouldn’t truly attack him. If he died protecting the traveler, he might witness evidence of the servant’s betrayal of her own comrades. So the servant must hold back.

The traveler really was a good person!

What he did not know was that the traveler had already made contact with the servant beforehand, and they had a mutual understanding, roughly knowing each other’s thoughts.

“This is not a place for you. I advise you to leave quickly,” the servant said frostily.

“This is Fontaine, and this is a street. As a traveler, how could I not have the right to be here? Have you already claimed this place all to yourself? Or do you think Fontaine belongs to you?” the traveler sneered.

Little Paimon watched them fearfully, unsure what to say. She anxiously looked at the traveler, worried the servant might suddenly attack. Though unlikely, the servant was an enforcer of the Fatui—a top-tier warrior who had dared to assassinate the Hydro Archon.

“Evil little traveler, I will—”

The servant clenched her hand, summoning a crimson sickle that glowed in her palm. Her gaze toward the traveler gradually gleamed with a red light, reflecting Paimon’s terrified face.

“Watch out!”

The doctor warned at lightning speed, brandishing a “Holy Sword of Physics” to block the servant and said, “Traveler, if you wish to leave, I will protect you.”

At this moment, the doctor’s actions were not out of conscience but because if the traveler were driven away, he might die. Keeping the ‘camera’—the witness—was beneficial.

“Huh!?”

Paimon looked at the changing doctor, then at the servant poised like a predator. The scene felt surreal to her.

Why would the servant attack the traveler?

Why was the doctor protecting the traveler?

She couldn’t understand.

“Oh? Dare to draw a weapon in Fontaine? Should I interpret this as a challenge to the laws of Fontaine?” The voice of the Hydro Archon came from afar—it was Fuenina, the same one from the dream.

“Not at all,” the servant quickly replied, sweat beading her forehead. She already sensed something was amiss.

Her reason told her that since Fuenina had just been playing in the dream, this current figure was likely not the real Fuenina but rather Fucalos in disguise—the playful prankster dragon.

‘What is he planning?’ the servant wondered, but rational thought offered no answers. The prankster dragon’s mind was beyond normal comprehension.

Nearby, the doctor silently observed the servant’s expression.

‘Fuenina’s position is indeed extraordinary. As reported in Arechino’s files, she is backed by a Nibelung dragon, wielding unimaginable power. Even we must abide by Fontaine’s laws.’

Then, as the servant withdrew her weapon, a smirk of glee appeared on the doctor’s face. He probed, “You’ve been in Fontaine this long, yet you don’t even know such basic laws. I almost suspect you’re doing this deliberately.”

“Hmph!”

The servant gave no direct answer, only a cold glance at the traveler as if imprinting his face in memory, then she departed.

Little Paimon was nearly terrified!

After the servant left, the doctor smiled and approached the traveler.

“Thank you for your help, but Arechino is a madman. She won’t let you off so easily. Be careful.”

“I will.”

The traveler nodded gently. She suddenly sensed something off about the doctor. Though his expression appeared normal, he seemed to be suppressing something deep inside—like a deep ocean, sparkling on the surface but terrifyingly profound beneath.

The doctor could still think, but his mind was nearly gone. The extreme pain and exhausting act were gradually breaking him down. Now, he was merely holding on.

Though the grass deity’s heart could soothe some wounds, his power was low to avoid detection, making healing inefficient.

More importantly, while the spirit could be repaired by the deity’s heart, the wear and tear could not. Being killed in the dream was only part of the damage. The rest came from the “scientific experiments” conducted by Lu Mingze and the servant, causing irreversible mental erosion.

The servant had not undergone such treatment, so despite dying many times, she suffered little wear. The doctor, however, had experienced countless agonizing screams. Though memories were lost each time, the feeling of torment persisted, wearing down his soul.

So, though he appeared normal, his judgment was compromised. The doctor of old would never have so quickly seen the traveler as a savior. He would have considered far deeper possibilities.

But he was worn down.

“Traveler, let’s leave quickly. I feel immense pressure standing next to him,” Paimon tugged the traveler’s sleeve.

“Sorry, I must leave first.” The traveler smiled politely and turned toward a nearby alley.

“No problem.”

The doctor smiled in reply, watching the traveler and servant depart, then collapsed onto the bench. He muttered to himself, “My analysis was sound, yet why do I have this strange feeling—like I’ve overlooked something? It’s odd.”

No one answered his words.

Dream Theater

“Why are you holding them back? I wanted to see a bigger mess,” Lu Mingze said, arms crossed, displeased as he looked at Fucalos.

That Fuenina wasn’t him but Fucalos in disguise. How could Lu Mingze, disguised as Fucalos, stop chaos? Not adding fuel was already a kindness.

“They’re near the fountain—the most important place in Fontaine. No matter what, they can’t be fighting in such a critical spot,” Fucalos replied, unusually serious.

Her gaze toward Lu Mingze brightened with wisdom. This was the true Fucalos—beneath her simple, confused exterior lay hints of insight. Her goal was simple: to feast, to feast, and feast some more. She was just hungry.

Fucalos would keep eating until her belly swelled, then lean against Lu Mingze, gently patting her stomach with a blissful smile.

“Again?”

Lu Mingze sighed helplessly.

“Mm-hmm, I want some.”

Fucalos nodded eagerly, tugging Lu Mingze’s arm, swaying gently, “Just a little, just a little bit.”

“No, none for you.”

“Ah~ Why do you give up so quickly?”

Fucalos looked disappointed.

“...”

Lu Mingze glanced at her clinging form, sensing the mood was odd. Clearing his throat, he said, “Eating too much won’t be good for you, and I have my limits.”

“Ah, okay then~”

Fucalos disappointedly leaned on him, hugging tight.

“If I’m not feeding you, why are you holding me?” Lu Mingze couldn’t help asking again.

“Why?”

Fucalos thought a moment, “It’s like quenching thirst by looking at plums. As long as I hold you, I won’t crave food so much.”

Lu Mingze was speechless but figured if this eased her, it was better—less mental drain and more freedom for multitasking.

Otherwise, endless chatter from Fucalos would be torture. Dual-line operations demanded much energy.

For now, she was just close, no outrageous moves.

Wait, what’s her hand doing?

“Really nothing left? Come on, squeeze, maybe there’s still some~”

“Let go! I’m not a cow! Dummy!”

Ten minutes later

“Delicious! See, see? There’s still plenty of good food to make! Just pretend!” Fucalos finished eating, hands on hips, flashing a silly yet adorable grin, proudly saying, “I knew you were bluffing. I’m so smart!”

“...”

Lu Mingze sighed helplessly. Lately, Fucalos acted more whimsically, her thoughts soaring. He worried about her mental state.

But what could he do?

This Fucalos was quite entertaining.

Lu Mingze loved interesting things because he was a devotee of joy, walking the path of delight. Naturally, he gladly accepted Fucalos, who brought him pleasure. He swore it had nothing to do with his own will.

It was all fate’s choice!

(End of chapter)