Kal'tsit froze slightly upon hearing Jeanne's unexpected proposal, but her features immediately snapped back into their usual, unreadable mask. She shook her head with crisp efficiency, clarifying that she harbored no such intentions.
"That will be entirely unnecessary; there is very little utility in my journeying there. The matter itself does not carry supreme gravity, and moreover, my desk remains burdened with a massive volume of state affairs. Squandering so many hours on a trip would be highly inefficient."
Before Jeanne could even attempt a counterargument, the ancient Lynx unleashed a dense cascade of words. Stripped of its formal veneer, her speech amounted to a flat refusal to travel, though her uncharacteristic fussiness left Jeanne suspecting that the physician was simply acting out of an underlying sense of guilt.
Still, certain matters were best left unvoiced. The intricate, combative friction defining the bond between those two was far too complex for a nineteen-year-old maiden like herself to parse. Such tangled sentiments could only be untangled by the individuals themselves.
Opting for silence, Jeanne simply listened as Kal'tsit reviewed the precise logistics of the assignment one final time. Once the physician turned and walked away, Jeanne stood watching her retreating figure, lost in thought.
She couldn't shake the impression that the ancient Lynx looked... despondent. Was it because the Doctor was departing for a long duration, or was she distressed by the reality that the Doctor's mind was about to be scrubbed clean, leaving the woman she had known for centuries a complete stranger?
Jeanne remained anchored to the floor for a long interval, pondering the thought until Fafnir—the newly elevated Duchess of Kazdel—noticed her guardian's prolonged silence. The dragon child gave a gentle tug to the corner of Jeanne's tunic, pulling her back to reality.
"Jeanne, do you require my claws for a task?"
Gazing up at her guardian, Fafnir assumed that another conflict was brewing. The young creature's vital energy began to simmer with an immediate desire for violence, transforming her into a little dragon ready to deploy her physical power at a moment's notice.
Over the last two months, Jeanne hadn't been the solitary individual enduring a severe lack of entertainment; Fafnir had fiercely desired an outlet for her energy for weeks, though the capital offered zero opportunities to unleash her strength.
Fortunately, the young dragon possessed a naturally patient disposition. She had managed to endure the quiet weeks by focusing heavily on her dual passions of eating and rolling around in piles of gold. It had truly been a test of endurance for the child.
"I do not require assistance; I was merely reviewing a few passing thoughts," Jeanne replied, gently stroking the child's head. Fafnir narrowed her eyes in response to the touch, her features softening into an expression of pure contentment, thoroughly enjoying the familiar gesture.
Through their travels, Jeanne had mastered the art of dragon-taming. She was even secretly planning to test her techniques on Talulah once they returned, wondering if her methodology would prove effective against a Draco. If successful, perhaps she could draft a manual on the subject down the road!
"Jeanne's home... Ursus?" Fafnir murmured, recalling the fragments of conversation they had shared over the past few days. Her curiosity was instantly piqued by the mention of the empire, a landscape she understood very little about.
In truth, Fafnir had existed on Terra for less than half a year. Her entire worldview was restricted to the sweeping plains of Rim Billiton and the war-torn ruins of Kazdel. Beyond those sectors, the rest of the world remained completely uncharted territory to her.
Naturally, the young dragon harbored a fierce curiosity regarding the unfamiliar landscapes lying beyond the horizon.
Had Jeanne not been present to anchor her, Fafnir would have reverted to her massive true form long ago, soaring across the heavens to discover the hidden marvels of this strange world.
"The place I call home offers very little beyond an endless blanket of snow," Jeanne mused aloud, her voice carrying a quiet tenderness as she led Fafnir down the hall. "I harbor some doubt as to whether you can adapt to such a freezing environment, though your Nordic heritage suggests you should manage perfectly fine."
Fafnir listened to the murmured words with a look of partial comprehension, nodding her head with rhythmic enthusiasm to echo her guardian's sentiments.
As Jeanne began packing their belongings to prepare for the journey, news of the formidable pair's impending departure diffused rapidly through the Babel ranks. Within hours, the vast majority of the personnel were aware that the silver-haired maiden was about to leave.
The departure didn't require any strict security protocols, and because an operator had happened to cross paths with Jeanne while she was organizing her luggage, the details naturally spread through the corridors.
Had this occurred during Babel's prior era of prosperity, the personnel would have undoubtedly organized a grand farewell celebration to honor the mysterious maiden who had granted them immeasurable aid, ensuring she departed with beautiful memories.
Regrettably, the current rebuilding effort left them with zero luxury to coordinate a formal gathering. Nearly every available operator was heavily deployed across Kazdel to handle urgent infrastructure assignments, and even the Elite Operators couldn't be spared to attend a assembly.
Instead, the personnel quietly purchased modest tokens of appreciation and unique local curiosities native to Kazdel, offering these small items to express the deep gratitude in their hearts.
Though the individual gifts weren't extravagant, dozens of operatives had either personally selected an item or commissioned others to secure one, investing genuine sentiment into their tokens. Consequently, the mountain of packages at Jeanne's workstation grew remarkably large.
Fortunately, they possessed a mobile storage asset in the form of Fafnir; otherwise, Jeanne would have faced a severe logistical headache trying to transport such a heavy volume of cargo back to the empire. These weren't food items, meaning she couldn't simply let the child swallow them all.
At that moment, Fafnir was sorting through her personal share of the gifts, which consisted entirely of shimmering metals alongside a few local delicacies—specifically, items that resembled roasted insect limbs.
The fate of those local treats was entirely predictable; before the night expired, every single one of them had vanished into Fafnir's stomach.
The following morning, the moment Jeanne stirred from her slumber, Kal'tsit entered the quarters with an expression of uncharacteristic urgency, directing her to finalize her preparations immediately for an imminent departure.
Jeanne quickly learned that the Doctor's physical framework had suffered another catastrophic decline during the midnight hours. Kal'tsit had expended an immense volume of her personal energy just to stabilize the patient's deteriorating condition.
The strategist's affliction was no longer a straightforward physical decay; its roots had burrowed deeply into her psychological architecture. The reality that Kal'tsit could utilize her medical arts to intervene on such an esoteric plane was a testament to her terrifying intellect.
"My apologies for delaying your schedule; conducting the procedure for the Doctor required a significant window of time."
Jeanne turned sharply, thoroughly surprised by the sound of the voice. Her astonishment didn't stem from the reality of the surgery itself, but rather from the individual delivering the update—it was Theresa.
The Monarch looked visibly exhausted as she stepped into the room. Given that the Sovereign had personally directed the procedure, it meant the Doctor's memories had already been systematically altered.
"Think nothing of it," Jeanne replied quickly, her focus shifting to the immediate crisis. "What is the Doctor's current status? Is her frame stable enough to endure the transport?"
She pressed for details, deeply concerned that the strategist's self-destructive work habits had left her too fragile to survive the journey to the hidden facility in Chernobog.
"Kal'tsit is currently supervising her vital signs to ensure a stable transit," Theresa explained softly, her voice heavy with a lingering anxiety that revealed her inner distress. "We remain profoundly indebted to you for managing this assignment. Historically, Kal'tsit should have been the one to accompany her, but she harbored a fierce reluctance to make the journey..."
The Monarch paused, before abruptly pivoting away from the subject with a speed that left Jeanne struggling to follow the transition. The contrast between the two topics was jarring.
"Let us leave that matter aside. Today marks your departure as well. I wish you a smooth and unimpeded journey across the northern borders. Should your faction ever require our resources, you need only establish contact, and we shall grant whatever aid we can manifest."
"Much appreciated," Jeanne replied with a firm nod. "Perhaps our respective organizations will discover an avenue for formal cooperation down the road. I am quite keen to have our medical trainees journey here to study under your experts."
"An avenue will surely materialize," Theresa answered, her features softening into a gentle, somewhat mysterious smile as she delivered a cryptic thought. "Perhaps in the unfolding future... you might dispatch your personnel to study directly aboard Rhodes Island."
Jeanne remained thoroughly baffled by the statement. What necessary connection did this have to Rhodes Island? Even if her personnel arrived to study, shouldn't their destination be the capital of Kazdel itself? Why would the landship serve as the vital nexus for their training?
Unable to decipher the underlying meaning, Jeanne simply offered a polite nod to steer through the conversation, tucking the riddle away in the recesses of her mind.
Even if there are secrets hidden beyond my current sight, she reasoned silently, once the designated hour arrives, the underlying reality will manifest with absolute clarity, won't it?