By the time Jeanne realized Kal'tsit had returned, she turned to find the feline standing outside the doorway, eyeing her with an expression so complex it could easily fill a hundred-thousand-word manuscript.
"Ahem... back so soon? How did the analysis turn out?" Jeanne offered an awkward greeting, the faint blush on her face refusing to fade under Kal'tsit's unblinking, heavy gaze.
"I know I shouldn't be surprised by now, yet every time I witness you doing something completely beyond reasonable comprehension, I still find it difficult to accept," Kal'tsit said with a quiet, weary sigh.
She set her diagnostic notes on the table, watching Jeanne pop another piece of grilled meat into her mouth before offering a stern reminder. "Please do not distribute that meat to anyone else aboard this vessel. Not everyone possesses a constitution capable of completely ignoring biological corruption."
Jeanne nodded rapidly in agreement. She understood the implicit danger of Seaborn tissue better than most; she was hardly foolish enough to hand out high-risk delicacies.
"So long as you understand the risks, I won't press the matter further," Kal'tsit continued, her tone measured. "My words are merely a caution. As long as you can guarantee no residual hazard, I have no intention of policing your personal habits. Truth be told, there are likely several researchers aboard Rhodes Island who would pay top coin to examine 'regional specialties' from Iberia. Provided safety is absolute—"
"I get it, I get it! I'll keep a tight lid on it!" Jeanne cut in hastily, raising her hands to reassure her before the doctor could launch into another detailed lecture.
Kal'tsit offered Jeanne a pointed look before dropping the subject, turning her focus to the diagnostic sheets resting on the desk.
"I have completed a thorough examination of the Seaborn remains you brought," Kal'tsit said, her demeanor shifting back to her usual professional gravity. "Regrettably, I cannot pinpoint a conventional cause of death. Or rather... their cessation of life functions defies standard understanding."
She handed the diagnostic sheets to Jeanne. The pages were dense with complex medical notation and specialized biological markers—text that Jeanne found rather baffling to parse.
Of course, Kal'tsit hadn't expected Jeanne to decipher high-level medical reports on her own.
Without missing a beat, she walked Jeanne through the readings line by line, explaining the significance of each structural anomaly and clarifying why such a post-mortem state was fundamentally abnormal.
It was a strange scene—a master physician breaking down the cellular collapse of a dead monster to a surface warrior, speaking with a degree of familiarity that suggested Seaborn biology was hardly foreign to her.
Judging by her depth of insight, Kal'tsit had likely dissected scores of such organisms throughout her long life—an astounding reality for any inhabitant of the dry land.
"In short, based on these diagnostic results, these specimens shouldn't be dead at all," Kal'tsit summarized, her gaze lingering on the report. "To have their vital functions extinguished instantaneously in this precise manner is scientifically inexplicable through any known methodology. You could consider it a phenomenon operating beyond the bounds of current terrestrial understanding."
As she spoke, Kal'tsit's eyes drifted toward Jeanne's chest, where the relic hung securely. Having dealt with Jeanne for so long, she knew exactly where the horn was kept.
Had circumstances permitted, Kal'tsit would have preferred to conduct a rigorous analysis of the artifact itself. Its appearance and subsequent disappearance in recorded history had been wrapped in profound mystery, vanishing down the river of time long before she ever had the chance to examine it firsthand.
Had Jeanne not recounted its history herself, Kal'tsit might never have retrieved that obscure, half-forgotten fragment of memory from the depths of her mind—much less considered that such a modest artifact held the potential to alter the course of the world.
"A phenomenon beyond terrestrial understanding..." Jeanne repeated softly, pondering the phrase before a look of clarity settled over her face. "Perhaps that's accurate. Maybe it truly is a miracle."
Jeanne's own knowledge regarding the horn's origin was limited to what she had gleaned from the ancient machinery in Laterano. As for what transformations it had undergone or what path it had traversed over the past ten thousand years, such distant truths were beyond her reach.
"While I personally hold no faith in so-called deities, nor do I believe in worldly miracles, if you firmly view this as a miracle or a divine manifestation, I will respect your perspective," Kal'tsit said flatly. Yet anyone truly familiar with her knew how remarkable it was for her to make such a concession.
For an individual whose worldview was not merely mature, but rigidly defined by centuries of lived experience, acknowledging a concept she had dismissed for eons was a monumental shift. The more one has witnessed across history, the harder it becomes to accept the supernatural.
Yet Kal'tsit retained a rare capacity to adapt to new truths. It hadn't taken her long to reconcile the reality: perhaps divine entities did exist in this world, but if such beings chose never to answer the cries of mortals, their existence was functionally irrelevant to ordinary lives.
"Is it really appropriate for you to say that so openly?" Jeanne asked with a playful grin, breaking the serious mood. "I heard rumors that you used to be a missionary for Laterano. Dismissing the divine so casually seems a bit out of character for a preacher, doesn't it?"
"I held the title of missionary purely as a functional identity," Kal'tsit replied smoothly, untroubled by the jab. "I readily admit that the credentials of a Laterano preacher proved exceedingly useful on numerous occasions, but that never implied personal devotion to a higher power." She paused, her sharp eyes studying Jeanne. "Besides... you are hardly a religious fanatic yourself, are you?"
Kal'tsit had initially assumed that the Saintess would prove sensitive regarding matters of faith, expecting her to push back against such skepticism.
Yet as she grew more acquainted with Jeanne, Kal'tsit realized the girl's faith was deep and unwavering, yet completely devoid of blind fanaticism. Discussing such topics sparked no defensive outbursts from her—in fact, her relaxed demeanor closely mirrored that of a Sankta.
"Well, if you say so... whatever floats your boat," Jeanne said with a gentle shake of her head.
"Setting philosophy aside, what is the effective range of your artifact when activated?" Kal'tsit asked, steering the conversation back to practical matters with a stern look. "How wide of an area did you affect out at sea?"
"With proper preparation, I feel its reach could encompass the entire world—including the oceans," Jeanne replied. She had never conducted a full-scale test, yet the moment she channeled her energy through the horn, its limits had imprinted clearly on her awareness.
"However, maintaining a range of that scale would place an immense burden on me. Still, if conditions align, I could quiet the deep entirely. During our encounter, the local Seaborn mounted a collective resistance against the surge, which compressed the effective radius down to roughly fifty nautical leagues."
Listening to Jeanne's explanation, Kal'tsit felt her brow twitch. The assertion that its reach could sweep across the entire globe brought back vivid memories of when the Sarkaz had once possessed the very same relic.
She harbored no regrets over the Sarkaz losing the artifact; in truth, she viewed its departure as a stroke of immense fortune. Given the volatile nature of the Sarkaz royal court, leaving such absolute power in their hands would have inevitably led to self-destruction.
Furthermore, no one knew the true price exacted by such an artifact. After all, not everyone possessed the pristine constitution of a true Saintess—such individuals were rare anomalies in history.
"Now I understand why Laterano had the confidence to convene a global summit," Kal'tsit noted, her voice dropping slightly. "That old man already holds a decisive card in his hand—a means to resolve the cataclysm whenever necessary."
Though referring to the supreme head of Laterano as "that old man" was somewhat informal, Jeanne grasped her meaning immediately. She was surprised to learn that Pope Yvangelista had already set his plans into motion.
"Pope Yvangelista dispatched his messengers to lay bare the impending threat before the heads of state, inviting representatives from every nation to assemble in Laterano for a joint council against the Seaborn," Kal'tsit explained.
"How did you come across that so quickly?" Jeanne asked instinctively, before realizing the answer herself—Kal'tsit maintained active ties with Kazdel, making it impossible for such news to slip past her.
Yet as the realization clicked, Jeanne's eyes widened in realization. If Kal'tsit had received word through Theresa, that meant...
Noticing Jeanne's sudden shock, Kal'tsit offered a subtle nod, confirming her silent deduction. "Precisely as you suspect. That old man even extended an official invitation to Theresa, the King of Sarkaz! He intends for Kazdel to sit at the table as a recognized sovereign nation in this global council."
That old man is certainly playing a high-stakes game! The thought flashed through Jeanne's mind, leaving her thoroughly stunned by the Pope's sheer audacity.