Chapter 60: Another Detection Method

Once the waves of pain subsided, Chen watched as Qiong sank completely into a dreamless sleep, his breathing finally becoming steady and deep.

Half the weight pressing down on her heart lifted.

But the other half seemed to hang even higher, suspended by a thread of pure dread.

The Stellaron’s erosion had already begun, its tendrils capable of invading the deepest layers of a person’s dreams.

Passive defense was a losing battle, a stopgap measure that would inevitably fail.

This was no long-term solution.

“Svarog…”

She whispered the name, the sound barely a disturbance in the quiet room.

Originally, she had planned to travel with the main group tomorrow, to follow the established flow of events.

But after that harrowing clash on the plane of consciousness, she realized that time was a far more critical resource than she had imagined.

In the original story, the first contact with Svarog was anything but smooth.

It was a confrontation fraught with misunderstandings, one that could easily erupt into open conflict, consuming precious time and energy.

She didn’t want to wait.

Rather than spending hours slogging through the scripted plot, she’d much rather just skip the cutscene.

A clear, decisive thought crystallized in her mind.

Taking advantage of the late hour, while most of the Underworld was resting, she would scout ahead.

She would go early, and perhaps even…

attempt to make contact.

If she could deal with him—or defeat him—tonight, then tomorrow’s formal meeting would proceed much more smoothly.

With her decision made, Chen closed her eyes and focused, her consciousness sinking into the vast, internal catalog of her mind.

Countless icons, some brilliantly lit and others shrouded in shadow, rotated slowly in the mental void.

Each one represented a person, a power, a possibility.

The Herta Puppet…

Lord Bronya…

March 7th…

Arlan…

Dan Heng…

Her gaze swept quickly across the familiar faces, finally coming to rest on one that had been unlocked not long ago.

An icon that now pulsed with a faint, steady glow.

In that instant, a complete plan formed in her mind, complex and immediate.

“I choose you,” she said softly into the void, her voice laced with the mock-solemnity of a trainer selecting their most trusted champion.

At almost the exact same moment, a solitary figure knocked on the door to Natasha’s clinic.

Natasha, who seemed to still be awake, appeared somewhat surprised by the late-night return visit.

still, she ushered him inside and handed him a cup of warm water without a word.

“Young Master Bronya, returning so late,” Natasha observed, her tone flat as she leaned against a cluttered work table.

“Surely you’re not here for another physical check-up.”

Lord Bronya clutched the warm cup, the heat a small, grounding comfort.

When he looked up, the earlier hesitation in his eyes had been burned away, replaced by a stark determination—the look of a man about to set fire to all his bridges.

“Doctor Natasha,” he began, his voice tight.

“I have a…

medical question I’d like to ask.

It may be somewhat presumptuous.”

“Speak freely.” Natasha shifted, propping herself against a wooden shelf filled with countless bottles and jars.

Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her white coat, her posture relaxed, but her sharp, attentive eyes indicated she was listening with her full attention.

Lord Bronya continued, the words carefully measured.

“Is there a method…

to determine if two people are related by blood?

For example…

as siblings?”

Natasha listened quietly, not a flicker of surprise crossing her features.

She simply raised a single, elegant eyebrow, as if pondering a curious but not unheard-of diagnosis.

She didn’t immediately answer “yes” or “no,” but instead posed a question of her own.

“Why do you ask this so suddenly?

Have you encountered a…

situation that requires such confirmation?”

He was silent for a few seconds before finally speaking, his gaze dropping to the cup in his hands.

“…The doctor must have noticed as well.”

“Among the people who were brought here today, there was a…

young woman.

Her appearance is remarkably similar to my own.”

Natasha’s expression remained a placid mask.

The only change was the slow descent of her raised eyebrow, a flash of quiet understanding in her eyes.

She gave a slight nod, not pressing him with a “so?” but allowing him to guide the conversation.

“That young lady,” she said, her voice even.

“She did indeed…

leave a deep impression.”

“So,” Lord Bronya’s voice was steady, betraying none of the turmoil he felt.

“You suspect there might be a blood relation between you.”

“…Yes.” He admitted it frankly, the single word heavy with implication.

Natasha regarded him in silence for a long moment.

“I understand,” she said at last, her voice a shade deeper than before.

“You want to know if there’s a method to verify this suspicion.”

“Exactly.” Lord Bronya found himself holding his breath.

Natasha turned away from him, her hands returning to the pockets of her white coat as she paced a short distance.

“Unfortunately, such precise instruments are not available in the Underworld.”

Seeing the flicker of disappointment on Lord Bronya’s face, she continued.

“But, I do happen to have a small, unconventional method.

Are you aware?

The Path of Abundance grants its followers more than just the power to heal injuries and cure illnesses.

It also bestows a perception of life’s fundamental fluctuations.”

She paused, searching for the right words.

“Think of it like an experienced luthier, who can tell if two violins were carved from the same tree, by the same craftsman, simply by listening to their resonance.

Even if the tunes they play are completely different, the core vibration remains.”

The metaphor seemed to ease the tight lines of Lord Bronya’s brow.

He listened intently, a sliver of hope rekindled.

“If,” Natasha continued, her tone becoming more cautious, “you can obtain a fresh sample of blood from the other party, I can attempt to perceive the deepest similarities between the two life-samples.

If a close blood bond truly exists, they will produce a unique resonance when brought together.

It is a way to judge if two lives are connected at their very roots.”

Lord Bronya’s heart beat a heavy, frantic rhythm against his ribs.

“I…

I understand,” he managed to say.

“Thank you, Doctor.

This method…

I will consider it carefully.”

He didn’t make a decision on the spot.

The Stellaron crisis, the expedition to find Svarog, and the delicate matter of how to even broach such a topic with the strange young woman—they were all problems that needed to be weighed and balanced.

“As you should,” Natasha nodded.

“The secrets of a bloodline often involve far more than one person.

Uncovering them requires not only courage but also the resolve to bear the consequences, whatever they may be.

As a doctor, I can only provide the method.

I cannot make the choice for you.”

She walked him to the door, her expression softening slightly.

“However, if you do ultimately decide to try, I have no objections on my end.”

“I’ll remember that.” Lord Bronya stood, giving Natasha a solemn, respectful nod.

“Thank you again.

I apologize for disturbing you so late.”

“It’s my duty.”

As Lord Bronya was about to step out into the cool night air, Natasha’s voice, now soft and low, stopped him.

“That young woman…

though she seems lost, her eyes are clear.

She does not look like someone with ill intent.

Perhaps…

you could try being more direct.

Sometimes, sincerity can reach the truth far more effectively than roundabout probing.”

Lord Bronya’s steps faltered.

He didn’t turn back, merely murmuring a low “Mm,” before stepping out into the alley.

Natasha’s words echoed in his heart.

More direct?

He looked up, his gaze drifting toward the distant inn where they were staying, now just a silent shape in the darkness.

To be honest with her, to make that bizarre request for a blood test…

just imagining the scene filled him with an almost instinctive resistance, a deep-seated unease.

He wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t ready to face any of the possible outcomes.

He shook his head, trying to force the personal worry from his thoughts.

The Stellaron.

Svarog.

Tomorrow’s expedition.

Those were the crucial tasks that demanded his focus now.

Just as he lifted his foot, preparing to head back toward the inn, a flicker of movement at the edge of his vision made him freeze.

Down at the far end of a narrow side alley, a blurry figure flashed past at an extreme speed.

The figure’s outline…

Lord Bronya’s steps halted completely.

Though it was just a glimpse, the silhouette—and that flash of blue, so conspicuous in the dim light—was unmistakable.

It made him think of Seele.

[Elysian’s Note:

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