"Back to this place again, huh? I remember it hasn't been that long since my last visit, so why does looking at this fortress suddenly make it feel as though an eternity has passed?"
By now, Jeanne had successfully guided the transport into the outer fringes of Chernobog with the Doctor and Fafnir in tow. From their distant vantage point, the majestic spires of the mobile city were already visible, slowly creeping across the plains in a fixed direction.
Beholding the nomadic metropolis brought Jeanne's mind drifting back to the bygone days when she first arrived here alongside Talulah. Back then, she was merely a carefree maiden, escorting her rebellious dragon through the bustling city streets.
Now, she had transitioned into the role of a guardian, while the companion by her side had transformed from a mature woman into a young child. One couldn't help but wonder if this was a bizarre twist of fate or a profound cosmic jest.
Gazing at Fafnir, whose features bore a ninety-percent resemblance to Talulah, Jeanne let out a soft sigh from the depths of her heart regarding her recent adventures. The chaotic experiences she had endured over the past few months were truly substantial enough to fill an entire chronicle!
"Ah, remembering my previous arrival, the one journeying beside me was your grown self. Yet now, the companion at my side is a mere child. Has the historical thread itself tangled into a knot, or has my fundamental understanding of this world simply fractured?"
Jeanne voiced her deep thoughts while looking back and forth between the mobile city and the young dragon. Fafnir, however, failed to grasp a single syllable of the grand lament, offering nothing but a silly, innocent grin in response.
Amused by the child's endearing ditziness, Jeanne couldn't resist reaching over to playfully ruffle her hair. She resolved to wait until the canopy of night fell darker before engineering a method to slip into the metropolis; the Doctor's fragile condition was thoroughly unsuited for a standard arrival through the main gates.
Given her current state of profound physical decay, any border guard—regardless of whether they suspected the infection—would instantly discern that she was a critical medical patient, triggering a rigorous and unyielding interrogation.
Slipping through the public checkpoints would inevitably invite immense complications, as the strategist could ill afford to endure such exhaustive scrutiny.
Consequently, Jeanne had to rely on covert methods under the cover of darkness. In truth, almost every mobile city within the empire—and across the known world—possessed secret pathways and structural blind spots; one simply required the proper intelligence to exploit them.
As fortune would have it, Jeanne was well-acquainted with a specific subterranean route into this metropolis, one that would even accommodate their vehicle. This particular knowledge had been imparted to her by Talulah during their earlier travels, as the infected leader had frequently utilized that exact hidden passage to slip into the urban sectors unnoticed.
"Though I wonder how the venerable old gentleman is faring these days? A significant amount of time has elapsed since our last departure, and we have shared zero informations. Perhaps I ought to find an occasion to pay him a brief visit."
The thought of the clinic known as Azazel suddenly crossed her mind, alongside the legendary general Hellagur. Realizing she hadn't maintained contact with them for a prolonged stretch, she noted that such diplomatic monitoring was usually a responsibility Talulah handled.
Beside her, the Doctor had drifted back into a deep slumber. It appeared the residual efficacy of the specialized serum administered by Kal'tsit had been thoroughly exhausted by the strategist's physical strain, leaving her frame increasingly frail and spent.
Confronted by this mounting bodily distress, the Doctor had taken to retreating into sleep with greater frequency simply to numb the sharp discomfort, to the point where her waking intervals had grown vastly shorter than her periods of rest.
Jeanne closed her own eyes to conserve her mental focus, waiting patiently until the sun dipped beneath the horizon and total darkness blanketed the wilderness before guiding the transport toward the towering silhouette of Chernobog. Utilizing her sharp recollections and the subtle guidance of her revelations, she parted with a modest sum of coin to smoothly secure entry into the city.
"Wake up, wake up!"
Once they were safely nestled within the interior of Chernobog, Jeanne gently nudged the deeply sleeping tactician awake. The hour to enter the mastermind within her mechanical sarcophagus was rapidly approaching; it would hardly do to let her slide into that deep slumber without a conscious farewell, wouldn't it?
"Mmh... what is it? Has something occurred? Where exactly have we arrived... why is the surrounding area so incredibly dark?"
The Doctor stirred, her consciousness feeling somewhat stiff and heavy as she forced her eyes open. She blinked through the pitch-black environment, voicing her confusion to Jeanne.
Because they had avoided the main checkpoints, Jeanne had parked the vehicle within the skeletal frame of an abandoned structure tucked deep inside the slums. The setting was completely devoid of artificial illumination, draped in total shadow.
"What do you mean, what is it? We have arrived in Chernobog! The hour has come to lock you away inside that machine! I roused you so you could enter the revival unit with a clear mind, rather than sliding in confused and emerging the same way."
Jeanne cast a brief glance toward the rear seat. Upon hearing that they had officially reached Chernobog, the strategist fell into a prolonged silence, looking as though a turbulent internal conflict was waging within her thoughts.
"Are you in an immense hurry to depart this place?"
Out of nowhere, the Doctor posed the sudden, cryptic inquiry. Hearing the question, Jeanne tilted her head in slight confusion, training her gaze on the frail figure.
"I am under no pressing constraint. Why do you ask? Do you possess affairs that require your attention?"
Jeanne was genuinely at a loss to deduce what the mastermind could possibly intend to execute. At this stage, wasn't the paramount objective to securely deposit her within the specialized medical revival unit?
Given her current state of physical exhaustion, what could she possibly hope to achieve?
"I... I wish to take a stroll through the streets of this city. For an immense number of years, I have never granted myself the luxury of true relaxation. I haven't simply wandered through an unfamiliar metropolis without a driving purpose, or secured a quiet vantage point to appreciate the scenery."
The Doctor hesitated, acutely aware that her primary obligation upon arrival was to immediately surrender her body to the automated sarcophagus for intensive therapy. Yet... regardless of the risks, she harbored a deep longing to trace a path through the urban sectors just once.
Still, she recognized that her request bordered on the indulgent, forcing Jeanne and the young dragon to sacrifice a day or two of precious time for a venture that served zero practical purpose. The strategist truly couldn't be certain if Jeanne would assent to the whim.
"..."
Hearing the Doctor's soft confession, Jeanne fell into a pensive silence. She understood the sentiment perfectly. After all, she knew better than anyone that the mastermind had barely spent a single day enjoying leisure or rest throughout her long tenure.
Now that the conflict was finally resolved, denying her a fleeting taste of simple pleasure felt incredibly cruel, especially for someone whose mind was about to be entirely wiped clean...
For a brief second, Jeanne actually had to fight the urge to stubbornly refuse, just to see if the strategist would resort to playfully clinging to her leg and weeping.
"Well, care for a companion then?" Jeanne offered warmly, pushing her playful thoughts aside. "It's not as if I have any pressing emergencies to attend to. I might as well keep you company on this stroll, and we can treat the child to a bit of fun while we're at it. But can your physical frame actually endure the exertion?"
She extended the invitation readily, though her underlying anxiety regarding the Doctor's condition remained. Given that notoriously fragile constitution, she half expected the mastermind to collapse before covering fifty paces.
"Do not fret, I still possess a small reserve of medication," the Doctor replied, a note of quiet relief entering her voice. "It is more than enough to sustain my faculties for a day or two. At any rate, I am scheduled to enter the machine tomorrow regardless..."
With Jeanne's assent secured, a wave of genuine joy washed over the Doctor. She had genuinely forgotten how many years had slipped by since she last experienced such unburdened tranquility, let alone the simple freedom to wander aimlessly through a city.
Though these precious hours would soon dissolve like drifting smoke, having a single day to bid farewell to the world before the darkness took her was a comfort.
"By the way, where exactly are we heading first?" the Doctor inquired, peering through the window at the dense shadows cloaking the slums.
"Since you are the architect of this grand excursion, I shall defer entirely to your whims," Jeanne stated, signaling that her role for the next forty-eight hours was merely that of a chauffeur. "Where is our destination?"
"Let us find something to eat!" the Doctor declared enthusiastically. "I find myself craving fried chicken or something similar. Back in Babel, Kal'tsit maintained a ruthlessly strict regime over my dietary habits; I never possessed a single opportunity to indulge in such delicacies."
As she spoke, the strategist paused to recall the last time she had tasted a simple burger and fried chicken combo, only to realize the memory eluded her entirely. It had simply been far too long.
Kal'tsit's rigid restrictions had undeniably been born of genuine concern for her fragile health, but that didn't stop the Doctor from harboring a persistent craving.
The Doctor was completely uninhibited, determined to follow her desires wherever they led.
Amused, Jeanne guided the vehicle back into motion. Finding the exact meal the Doctor desired within a bustling metropolis like Chernobog wouldn't be a challenge; any lively commercial sector was bound to host a fair number of fast-food establishments.
As fortune would have it, the burger and fried chicken joint they stumbled upon was currently staging a massive competitive eating promotion. The grand champion stood to claim a staggering sum of fifty thousand Lungmen dollars—an immense expenditure that proved the owner was betting big on the spectacle!
Ordinarily, a contest of raw consumption had zero relevance to someone with a bird-like appetite like the Doctor. However, the moment they laid eyes on the promotional banner, both women slowly turned their gazes toward Fafnir. The young dragon was already staring at the displays of fried chicken with unmistakable relish.
Jeanne reasoned that if she simply unleashed Fafnir upon the buffet without any restrictions, she would be making an immense profit even if she walked away without a single cent of the prize money! At a conservative estimate, letting the child loose would cost the establishment at least a hundred thousand Lungmen dollars in raw ingredients.
Sensing a golden opportunity for a massive free feast, Jeanne immediately marched up to sign the child up. Her expression practically radiated absolute certainty that the fifty thousand dollars was already in her pocket.
The surrounding heavyweights paid zero heed to Jeanne's slender frame, fully convinced that all three travelers combined couldn't match a fraction of their capacity.
They never anticipated that Jeanne would simply escort Fafnir to the starting line. By the time the opening bell rang, a wave of collective indignation washed through the local competitors. They felt their pride as proud citizens of Ursus had been deeply slighted; did these outsiders truly believe a mere child could out-eat them?
Jeanne herself abstained from the fray. She and the Doctor placed a modest order for themselves, settling into a booth to enjoy the spectacle.
What followed was less of a contest and more of a slaughter. A ravenous Fafnir proceeded to utterly dismantle the local champions, crushing their spirits so thoroughly they began to question the very fabric of reality.
What was the origin of this small creature? She was devouring whole chickens without even pausing to spit out the bones! To their mounting horror, as the final moments ticked away, the solitary figure left standing was a child who barely reached their waistlines.
The proprietor stood frozen by the counter, his eyes tracking the terrifying velocity of Fafnir's consumption. As the child's pace accelerated, the owner and his kitchen staff looked to be on the verge of tears. They hadn't organized a marketing event; they had invited an ancient calamity into their kitchen!
Ultimately, through the heroic, frantic efforts of the staff, the restaurant managed to fill Fafnir to roughly half her capacity. Jeanne, surveying the weeping owner, felt too embarrassed to demand the official prize money. She decided to let the fifty thousand dollars slide, counting it as a fair settlement for Fafnir's massive meal.
After all, had Jeanne ordered that immense volume of food at standard menu prices, the bill would have easily cleared a hundred thousand Lungmen dollars. No matter how she calculated the ledger, she had come out ahead.
The proprietor watched Jeanne's retreating figure vanish into the night, his eyes brimming with a profound, unquantifiable reverence. In his estimation, the platinum-haired maiden was nothing short of a literal angel—even if that angel traveled across the land alongside a gluttonous beast.