Hearing Fran's statement, Jude couldn't help but narrow his crimson eyes, carefully scrutinizing the guest before him.
Pale, near-gray hair, a proper and fitting physician's coat. Seemed young, but she indeed carried that unflustered scholarly air of a White Cup 'Error-Purger'.
Her movements were unhurried and steady, without any hint of awkwardness; both her speech and demeanor were so natural. As if meeting a vampire Marquis was merely an everyday occurrence, not worth any emotional fluctuation.
Once, there was a person from the White Cup cult who had given him this feeling... That was over two hundred years ago, Grantham in his younger days.
Back then, Grantham was only a department professor, but he was calm and sharp, with a near-blazing thirst for knowledge smoldering in his very bones. From the moment they met, Jude knew that guy was a mythical creature wearing human skin, born to consort with madness and taboos.
And precisely because he saw Grantham's frightening potential, Jude represented the Nolaria family in becoming a staunch supporter of the Budding Moon Covenant. Otherwise, once things turned sour, those White Cup freaks obsessed with secret art research would have no more restraints.
And this Ms. Flamel before him... was even more inscrutable than Grantham back then. Those amber eyes, though clear and translucent, were also murky and deep.
"Welcome to Moldway, Ms. Flamel. Give my regards to Grantham for me."
"Your ancient Gormouth is excellent, even making me feel a sense of familiarity, as if returning to the old days three hundred years ago... Though Moldway back then wasn't a good place."
Jude gave Fran a slight bow, responding to her earlier precise Budding Moon salute.
As one of the few Moon's Favored holding ancient noble titles, the actual controller of the Nolaria family, he had no need at all to use etiquette of equal standing with a professor. Doing so was more to express his respect and regard.
"Just a hobby. Studying secret arts inevitably involves delving into some uncommon ancient languages."
In response to Jude's praise, Fran acted quite modest.
Jude didn't engage in excessive meaningless pleasantries either. He knew well the nature of Error-Purgers; these guys always pursued efficiency, detesting spending energy on pointless social formalities.
After examining the container holding the heart a few more times, he steered the conversation to the main topic.
"Professor Flamel, what you've brought this time... is no ordinary gift. Please tell me, how exactly did you remove the Blood Plague from the remaining organ while maintaining biological viability?"
"This holds great significance for all Moon's Favored."
Fran gave a slight nod, then explained the specific principles.
"The first solution is to use extracted Moon-phase psychic elements to destroy the original body and spirit, then complete a reconstruction on that foundation. The heart in your hands, Mr. Jude, is the product of that therapy."
Hearing Fran's explanation, the excitement and fervor in Jude's expression cooled slightly.
He slowly let out a breath, sinking into deep thought.
In fact, the Moon's Favored had attempted similar methods hundreds of years ago. After all, with their worshipped deity having changed, it was natural for them to seek new breakthroughs in this area.
But the Molting Moon was a broken and severe deity; her mercy was likewise sharp.
Using pure Moon-phase psychic elements could indeed cleanse the chronic, stubborn afflictions in the bloodline, but this process would also completely destroy the patient. Even for vampires with extremely tenacious vitality, this was equally an extreme torture with a slim survival probability.
Soon, Fran spoke up, interrupting his heavy thoughts.
"Mr. Jude, I understand your concerns. For your sect, Moon-phase psychic elements aren't difficult to find, but those afflicted with the Blood Plague can hardly survive this therapy, correct?"
Jude was surprised by the keenness of the person before him, but felt no embarrassment at having his thoughts laid bare.
That guy Grantham also liked to casually state others' thoughts, and often could precisely hit the mark. He had already experienced the Error-Purgers' skill at deducing psychology.
"Indeed so."
His frankness instead surprised Fran somewhat; she hadn't expected a near-thousand-year-old ancient being to communicate so honestly with others. Not a bit of that bad habit of speaking in riddles and hiding meanings...
"If I were to handle this solution, I could control the fatality rate to around 50%. If the individual is sufficiently resilient, that probability would drop further."
Fran explained lightly.
A fifty percent chance? Jude's expression became somewhat grave, but at the same time, he felt inexplicably relieved.
At least from now on, the Moon's Favored wouldn't be completely helpless against the Blood Plague. Having a method means there exists theoretical possibility for further optimization of the technology. In the past, some powerful ancient vampires who contracted the Blood Plague either completely lost control, becoming walking disasters, or chose slumber from which they would never awaken.
Soon, Fran's next sentence made Jude uncontrollably feel a sense of being "tempted."
"After undergoing the Moon-element therapy, the newly born Moon's Favored will never again become carriers or infectees of the Blood Plague."
"This..." Jude was momentarily speechless, his expression growing increasingly grave.
For long-lived races, nothing was more tempting than "once and for all." But simultaneously, he couldn't easily express agreement with this solution that could be called ruthless.
Based on Professor Flamel's inference, to completely eradicate this calamitous curse... would probably require having all Moon's Favored undergo the Moon-element therapy once.
Exchanging half their people's lives for the entire species to no longer be plagued by this bloodline malady.
If viewed purely as a transaction, it was probably a guaranteed profit. The Blood Plague had the potential to lead the Moon's Favored toward extinction, and after half the vampires died, they could still continue to reproduce. It's just... no one would wish to be the sacrificed half.
"Thank you for your gift and proposal, Professor Flamel. I will reciprocate with a corresponding gift... Now, please hand over this technology to me. I will try using it on brethren who have already lost control."
After some deliberation, Jude still decided to first accept this White Cup gift.
Large-scale implementation would definitely cause chaos, but he could use it subtly. First experiment on those already incurable Blood Plague patients; they were going to be disposed of anyway...
"I'm afraid that might be somewhat difficult. I didn't bring the corresponding instruments. Moreover, given Moldway's current industrialization level, even if I gave the blueprints to local mechanics... they would likely find it hard to reproduce them."
Regarding this, Fran quite regretfully waved her hand.
In fact, the 50% survival probability was something she forcibly raised using Fog Street Clinic's medical equipment, and these instruments couldn't be transferred, so naturally there was no possibility of replication.
Before Jude could speak again, she quickly introduced Solution Two.
"Actually, I have a medical method with higher safety and simpler use. That is, to extract material from the Carapace Kind, using pure Moth-phase psychic elements to antagonize and twist the bloodline cursed words. This solution's survival rate is over 70%."
Hearing this, Jude's expression momentarily became somewhat strange. He narrowed his crimson eyes, his expression shifting inscrutably.
Since there was a better solution to choose from, why spend so much time introducing the previous one?
Oh, this was probably some strange quirk of researchers. Like Grantham once said, if one didn't show off and introduce all their research achievements, then the effort was wasted...
Although the thoughts in his heart were complex and deep, as an extremely experienced ancient being, Jude's face didn't reveal any unusual expression.
"A 70% survival rate, using Carapace Kind material... Ms. Flamel, if I provide a patient now, could you attempt a cure?"
In response to Jude's request, Fran agreed exceptionally decisively, her eyes even carrying a hint of excitement.
"Of course."
"Live testing is an unavoidably important step in proving a therapy's feasibility. I would be delighted to demonstrate for you."
The confidence she displayed to some extent influenced Jude; it was an extremely assured demeanor, without showing even a trace of reluctance.
"Good, then I'll take you to see him."
As he spoke, he slowly walked towards the mansion within the courtyard, not forgetting to call Rosalia beside him.
"Rosalia, you brought the White Cup guest; you should also receive a reward. Come and see... the inescapable fate of the Moon's Favored, and the disgusting unsightliness after contracting the Blood Plague."
"O-okay..."
Rosalia hastily agreed and silently followed behind the two.
Actually, she still somewhat hadn't quite grasped the situation... her thoughts were nearly in a jumble, unable to find a clue, so she could only cautiously remain silent.
Wasn't Dr. Fran a Medicae Examiner for the Secrets-Hunters? Why was she now calling herself Flamel and becoming a White Cup honorary professor? Besides, she seemed to have worn a Lamp Moth cult gauze robe at the Mirror of Enlightenment Club before...
Struggling in thought but finding no result, Rosalia soon gave up on dwelling on this issue.
Dr. Fran was a guest she brought; she was now the primary responsible person. Therefore, no matter what this doctor said, she had to find a way to smooth over the conversation...
Jude didn't lead the two into his mansion through the main entrance, but instead opened a secret passage leading to an underground chamber from a side hall garden.
The three descended step by step down the staircase, soon entering a cell lit by scattered candlelight.
Everything in this cell, from its decorations and fixtures, was cast from metal, and the bars were three layers thick; one could see Sun-Forging prayers etched on the decorative railings. It seemed to be to prevent the prisoner from escaping through the gaps.
"Edros Nolaria."
After a long, reminiscent silence, Jude spoke a name.
"The Moon's Favored shed the old skin of the undead; therefore, we no longer need to rely on 'infection' to procreate like our predecessors did. From that Budding Moon onwards, coupling between our kind could also produce living infants."
"And Edros was my first child. He was an envied pure-blood, exceptionally gifted from birth. Barring accidents, he would have been my sole heir... Later, at one hundred and fifty, he was discovered to be infected with the Blood Plague."
He closed his eyes with a sigh, reaching out to knock on the cell bars forged from twisted steel.
Thud!
The next moment, a face of extreme pallor abruptly slammed against the bars. Edros's eye sockets were sunken, drool and blood hung at the corners of his mouth, his gaze held not a trace of reason. Like a beast driven mad by hunger and thirst.
He strained his face forward with all his might, completely caring not that his distorted, misshapen skin was being branded by searing marks from the glowing Sun-Forging prayers.
This horrifying scene made Rosalia involuntarily shrink behind Fran.
But Fran was completely unconcerned by Edros's ferocious visage; instead, she observed his condition with great interest.
"Be careful, Ms. Flamel. He goes berserk upon smelling human scent; I don't want you injured because of it."
Jude reminded her, then inquired about the specific treatment requirements.
"I can first subdue Edros, put him in a docile state. As for the needed Carapace Kind material, I'll have an attendant fetch it shortly. Remains from the Order of Dust era are rare, but my stock holds more than one set."
Fran blinked lightly, somewhat appreciative of this vampire Marquis's straightforwardness and efficiency.
"What an enlightened attitude towards seeking medical help, Mr. Jude. You are a respectable patient's family member. If all guardians could be like you, not avoiding medical treatment out of fear, our work would have much less trouble..."
"But, aren't you worried he might become part of the failed 30%?"
Hearing this, Jude lowered his eyes, his gaze finally revealing a trace of the look of an old man. Weariness, depth, and helplessness.
"Then that would be Edros's fate."
"He should have died the day he was completely devoured by the mania of thirst. It was I who forcibly kept him all these years. Thinking about it now... perhaps it was just adding needless suffering. It's time to let go."
"Only, if he dies, I will bring ten more Blood Plague patients. At that time, I ask that you ensure your treatment plan truly has a 70% cure rate."
His words revealed a trace of faint, barely-there warning.
Not quite a threat, but indeed a cold admonition. Jude was willing to believe the doctor before him possessed the ability to cure the Blood Plague, and simultaneously, he also had to guard against the worst-case scenario.
"What? You can bring ten more patients? You are truly the most generous..."
But obviously, Fran's focus was different from Jude's. Hearing there were ten more experimental subjects, she was even somewhat excited.
Soon, she took from her medical kit a bottle of Carapace Kind extract from remains, a delicate circular saw, and medical instruments like syringes...
"Mr. Jude, I have already prepared the Carapace Kind extract; you need not provide additional material. As for helping with suppression..."
"That should also be unnecessary."
As she spoke, Edros heavily collapsed to the ground, emitting the coarse breathing of deep sleep. Fran also slowly retracted the brass pocket watch into her sleeve.
Three psychic focus volleys from the Swaying Heart-Clock; even a High Priest would have to sleep for half an hour.
When did she...?
Witnessing this, even with Jude's near -thousand-year-long experience, he couldn't help but feel somewhat surprised.
Edros, after contracting the Blood Plague, had become no different from an evil spawn, completely a mad beast. How could he so defenselessly fall into deep sleep like this?
Ms. Flamel seemed to have taken out a pocket watch just now; perhaps it was some relic with psychic interference capabilities... The White Cup's pace of development was still as fearsome as ever.
"Ms. Flamel, please wait a moment. Let me first add a few more restraints for Edros, then open the cell door..."
As he spoke, Jude suddenly noticed that the doctor beside him had somehow already opened this precision-crafted cell door made by the Sun-Forgers cult, and was now squatting beside Edros on her own, examining his physical condition.
Jude glanced at the gilded cell key in his hand, then subtly put it away.
I think I know why Grantham awarded Ms. Flamel the honorary professor title. She's even far more peculiar than that old fellow...
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