Chapter 601 : “You’re Awake
Chapter 601: “You’re Awake?”
The Father who had been smashed had it much worse. His head was now mottled with blue and purple bruises, his brows knotted tightly together, his face scrunched up into something like a wrinkled bun.
Richard felt that he could understand him quite well. To be honest, the physical resilience of the Buriers was truly absurd. Nora had survived even after being beheaded, which already felt outrageous to him. Now it seemed that the other Buriers were no less hidden dragons and crouching tigers.
Just as Richard was starting to feel unable to watch anymore and stood up, intending to say something to stop it, the young Father’s eyelids trembled, and he successfully opened his eyes.
He paid no attention at all to the unfamiliar surroundings, to Richard—the unfamiliar Transcendent standing beside him—or even to the pile of battered helmets thrown on the ground. Instead, he stared at Gwen with a face full of terror and shouted:
“Stop hitting! Stop hitting! I’m awake, I’m really awake!!”
Nora and Richard’s eyes immediately lit up, while Gwen, on the other hand, showed a trace of regret and unfulfilled disappointment on her face.
“It really works!?”
“Of course it works. This is a proper awakening ritual. This is how we wake our companions.”
“Then your awakening method really goes through a lot of helmets.”
Gwen glanced at the helmets scattered all over the floor, her tone hesitating slightly. “Normally… it wouldn’t need to be hit this many times.”
“Yes! That’s right! You don’t need to hit anymore, I’m already awake! Gwen, hurry up and put the chain flail away!!” The Father’s eyes were filled with terror and, well, an intense desire to survive.
“You’re bleeding from the head. Let me help you treat it?” Gwen shook the chain flail in her hand, looking rather eager. “I remember this chain flail can also be used for treatment.”
“No! No need! This is just a minor injury!” The Father forced out a strained smile, completely ignoring the streaks of blood running down from his head.
“Alright…” Gwen lowered the hand holding the chain flail, her tone a little disappointed. Then she turned her head to look at the other Fathers still lying on the beds.
For some reason, Richard always felt that those Fathers seemed to shudder all at once.
“Mm, hello, my friend from the Silent Sanctum. I’m the doctor here. Just lie still for now, I’ll bandage you up. Don’t worry, Gwen won’t come over. Mm, a headache is normal.”
Richard stepped forward, soothing the shaken Father as he spoke, while taking out bandages and wrapping his head.
The bandaging was completed quickly, and the bleeding stopped, but the calming effect was clearly not very good. He still stared at Gwen not far away with a look of fear—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
After confirming that the Silent Sanctum’s traditional awakening ritual was effective, Gwen enthusiastically began waking the other Fathers.
She lined up the Sanctum Fathers, put helmets on them, and swung at them one by one.
The speed made Richard suck in several sharp breaths. Wasn’t this speed no slower than a banshee swinging with six hands?
A banshee might have six hands, but Gwen could swing six times in a single second—she was hardly inferior.
This small treatment room was instantly filled with something like a symphony, with instruments produced by the Sanctum itself. Just listening to it felt sacred.
It was just a bit too hard on helmets.
“Do you still have any helmets?” Gwen looked at the floor full of scrapped helmets, then at the Sanctum Fathers huddled together, clutching their heads.
Wherever her gaze landed, the Fathers there retreated in terror.
Already backed out the door, Richard poked his head inside to take a look, then quickly pulled it back.
“This type probably isn’t available anymore. Will steel helmets work?”
The Expeditionary Army was uniformly issued steel helmets. Their appearance had even been personally designed by Hughes, referencing styles from the Second World War, and they could effectively block musket fire.
Although, in the Northlands, the Expeditionary Army didn’t really encounter many situations involving exchanging fire with enemies.
“Bring some over first. I’ll test the feel.” Gwen shook the chain flail in her hand. This incense burner truly lived up to being a weapon made for Transcendents—solid and durable. Gwen was already considering whether, in addition to a longsword, she should also equip a chain flail.
Worthy of the Silent Sanctum, the feel of this weapon’s design was just right. She swung it with great satisfaction.
The Silent Sanctum Fathers might have had other thoughts, but they had just awakened and were thoroughly dazed from being smashed. Their gazes toward Gwen instinctively carried fear.
They basically understood the cause and effect. After all, this truly wasn’t just simple smashing with a chain flail. The Silent Sanctum’s specially made incense burners genuinely carried will. After Gwen had been smashing them for so long, she had already smashed the general situation straight into their heads.
Castel truly didn’t lack military equipment. Richard quickly found Gaia and had a large batch of steel helmets pulled from the military factory.
The curved design at the top of these steel helmets could effectively disperse the impact force and protect the head. As a result, the Fathers awakened afterward were in much better condition—at the very least, they were no longer bleeding from cracked skulls.
Before long, all of the Silent Sanctum Fathers had been awakened. They looked rather miserable, but these injuries were truly not severe for Buriers. It was just that the long period of unconsciousness had caused some damage to their souls, so they needed a period of quiet recuperation.
As for why unconsciousness caused by soul damage could be resolved through physical means—one could only say that the will Nora smashed into their minds with the incense burner was indeed effective, successfully penetrating deep into their souls.
Until the last person.
He was a slightly aged man. After Gwen’s chaotic barrage of blows, he staggered to his feet and looked around in confusion.
“This place… where is it?”
“This is Castel, Patriarch Ignati,” Nora said calmly from the side.
Ignati subconsciously reached up to touch his head, but instead pulled off a somewhat dented Expeditionary Army steel helmet. He stared at it for a moment in puzzlement, then his expression suddenly turned grave.
“Castel? You’re saying this is Castel? Then what about the White Calamity in the Northlands?”
The Silent Sanctum Fathers all lifted their heads to look over. The long unconsciousness had left them muddle-headed, and only when the Patriarch mentioned it did they remember why they had fallen unconscious in the first place.
“Do you still have memories from after entering the White Calamity?”
Ignati took a deep look at Nora, his gaze then pausing briefly on Richard, before he slowly spoke:
“Some, but not much. After we entered the White Calamity, we attempted to activate the ritual, but something was wrong. The White Calamity—what you call the Sanctum of Forgetting—seemed different. Not only did we fail to control it, we were instead rejected by it.”
“And then you were thrown out?” Richard asked.
“Were we thrown out? I don’t remember that part. I only remember trying to use my will to confront the existence within the White Calamity, but I was completely unable to contend against it, and then I lost consciousness.”
Ignati took a deep breath and stood up shakily. “Since we are now in Castel, then the White Calamity must have already occupied most of the continent, right? Nora, we need to unite to deal with the Sanctum of Forgetting.”
Nora said nothing.
She rolled her eyes.