Often the great detective makes mistakes, he is also human, rather human is destined to be born with mistakes.
The stained glass was not meant to illuminate the hall, the light dispersed through the glass in all directions into colorful light spilling out into the airtight room, the joyful music seemed distant here, a light white mist rose with a calming smoky scent.
The man on the couch hangs his head low to the wall, seemingly in prayer, and above the wall the blackened crosses wriggle eerily, seemingly with life as if by mistake of sight.
"The room is nicely furnished, like a church."
There was the guest from afar, dressed in black, wearing a bowler hat with a mask of a bird's beak.
It originated from a costume from centuries ago, when the Black Death ravaged all of Invergar and the surrounding kingdoms, and that's how doctors dressed back then, and the mask with the bird's beak was actually a gas mask, with a slender beak of silver stuffed with herbs that filtered out the virus.
Those dark times are long gone, but people still shy away from such clothing, the doctor back then had a lot of power, and in order to control epidemics, as soon as he pronounced you sick, you were quarantined, your home was torched by knights, and you ended up being placed in large pits with the rest of the sick, where they threw in fish oil and firewood to burn you out along with the disease itself, and then later covered it all up with dirt.
He's more of a grim reaper than a doctor, and the whole thing reeks of foreboding.
"Yes, this is built as I remember the church in the town, that church wasn't very big, a few dozen people could fill it up."
Saber slowly raised that bowed head, the light from the hall falling from the stained glass behind him, he was silhouetted against the light, his figure was pitch black in appearance.
"I thought you Vikings all believed in the god Odin."
The doctor of epidemics slowly took his seat, opposite Saber, and there seemed to be eyes watching under the darkened lenses.
"No, the so-called gods died when the great ships of steel and artillery stepped into the northern seas, we pounced forward thinking we would have a place in the Imperium, but in reality there was nothing, dead is dead, and death means nothing on the cold sea."
Saber's voice was flat, as if he was telling a story that had nothing to do with anything.
"That would have been my last sea voyage, I drifted on my back on the debris of the deck to Invergar, and it was a church priest who saved me, when I woke up in a church that looked about like this."
Eyes drifted back and forth in the cramped darkness, as if refusing to forget, that Saber had always existed here.
"It was a very damned Inerwig man, really, really psychotic, and the first question he asked me when he saw me wake up was if I was interested in learning about the Evangelical Church."
Saber said and laughed.
"I'm a Viking, and he actually asked me if I was interested in the church he let loose a laugh, but no matter how loud it was, the vague music eventually buried him, and the place was as quiet as stagnant water."
"And how does the story end?"
The doctor's voice was an eerie neutrality with an iron tone that seemed to be due to this epidemic mask.
"When I was dying the Valkyrie did not descend, and the Hall of Valor closed its gates tightly on me, so I wanted to try betrayal perhaps so that the noble god Odin would pay a little attention to me as a mole."
"I was baptized and then lived to this day without any retribution or even any nightmares, mixing it up rather better than when I was a pirate."
Saber felt that everything was so ridiculous, that nothing was anything, that what everyone had been clinging to for years seemed like a bubble.
"I think I know."
The doctor of epidemics was silent for some moments, then said.
"Do you think God... Useful?"
"You mean saving the world? Doctor."
"Probably. I'm actually confused sometimes, I've dissected a lot of cadavers, and people are so complex and beautiful every organ has its own role to play in the ebb and flow of the heart, the blood gushing .... Even the brain is an actual miracle."
The doctor looked at his hands and felt his breath, everyone seeks a miracle but never thinks of his existence as something miraculous.
"Sometimes I wonder if man is so mysterious and complex that a so-called god could really create us? But without that so-called God, how did we come into existence?"
Saber thought for a moment and held up a finger.
Silver lion coins, the so-called god is so cheap that he is only worth one silver lion coin. I guess you've seen the ones out there, the 'hangover' people.
He spoke disdainfully, but sadly.
"For one silver lion city you can buy a hallucinogen, and a single hallucinogen can take them three days into heaven, and for one silver lion coin you can say goodbye to this hellish world, and indulge in your own beauty sleep until you need the next hallucinogen."
"So much for the so-called step into heaven, isn't it?"
The doctor thought about it, he likes to think, but sometimes thinking is meaningless, uninteresting and useless.
The distant music continued to rise, the sweet laughter was faintly heard, and it was clear that there was only a wall of glass between the two, but the gap was so wide.
"The time for sacrifice is now, Saber."
The doctor finally spoke up and said this, he wasn't trying to make small talk, he just didn't know how to put this into words, after all, death was a sad thing.
"I'm aware."
Saber didn't seem surprised by the supposed sacrifice, his eyes had never been calmer.
"Doctor of Epidemic, you are supposed to announce my death aren't you? Just like the Black Death hundreds of years ago, the doctor actually had no ability to cure it at all, all he could do was discern those who were sick and kill them, isolating the epidemic from that ring."
"According to your teachings, you'll go to heaven when you die."
The doctor tried to comfort him, but as if he had heard some joke, Saber's voice paused for a moment and then laughed hard, as if he had heard some heavenly joke.
"How ridiculous is the Inferno, and how ridiculous is Heaven, you know I don't believe in that."
He was baptized, but then again, he didn't believe it.
The doctor didn't seem to expect that answer from Saber, who was clearly a dying man, but had an unimaginable peace about death.
There was a pause in his voice as the doctor continued.
"The Sacred Coffin has broken away from the old Dunlins, it is now in a safe place, but the pursuit by the Pure Removal Authority is still not over, according to the intelligence the Voyage Dawn lifted off ten days ago, and now no one knows where it is, it could be over the coast, or it could be right on top of our heads, where that Dry Thunder's artillery is aiming at. "
"What do you need me to do?" Saber asked.
"Diversion, we need to buy more time to divert the Sacred Coffin."
"Which means a riot, the bigger the better?"
The doctor nodded in affirmation.
"Yes, as long as there is a disturbance the Pure Removal Organs will surely find a way to solve it, they don't have much manpower in the first place, so delay if you can, as long as the Sacred Coffin is detached from the Inerwig all the sacrifices will be worth it."
With that said the doctor took out his carrying case, and as he opened it it was rows and rows of syringes, and in that clear glass tumbled fiery blood.
It was like Pandora's Box, since it was opened Saber's breathing tensed and a rare disorder appeared in his eyes as he stared there in death.
It was an indescribable sensation, one never felt the presence of air while living in it, but when the box was opened an agitated boiling heat filled the room, as if something had escaped from it, everywhere.
"From the technology of the Order, the purified secret blood that leads to hell and opens the heavens. The Doctrine was never some sharp blade, when the Order essentially relied on it to raise a bunch of monsters and win the war of faiths over it."
The doctor's voice recoiled calmly, as if he had been exposed long enough to get used to the eerie feeling.
Eyes looking there, Saber's voice trembled a little.
"Are they all for me?"
"Only one."
"Saber, this is a chance to change your destiny, one chance is enough if you're really strong enough, and if that's all you've got, a few more chances are merely wasted."
The doctor's words were rarely cruel as he got up and walked under the stained glass through which the bustle of the hall came into view.
"I've heard this used to be a dueling arena."
"Yes. Old Turin was founded by the Romans, and that tradition always trickles down somewhere in the cracks. During the time of the War of Light when the Lower Towns didn't exist and it was just a wasteland, times were hard and people gathered here to have underground gambling sessions."
Saber still didn't get up, from the beginning he sat on the couch, quietly reviewing the past.
"Back then, rich people would fish over useless prisoners of war, who were slaves. The economy was bad, and many poor people would take their weapons and walk onto the field to make ends meet, and the Invergreens fought with the Gallic Neros in the Roman gladiatorial arena."
"Usually though it was the Invigorians who won, even though it was an underground duel but back then to encourage the people the Gallo-Narrows would be stabbed before they even stepped into the arena, they fought with wounds and from the time the floodgates were opened their lives went into a countdown."
Those were bloody times, the enemy came from behind the Straits of White Tide, and the weapons of both sides at the start of the war were still big ships and swords, but in the nearly 100 years of war history, the weapons have been constantly upgraded, from flintlocks to long-range artillery, and from base steamers to Zeppelins.
"But there are no more of these duels now, after all, in civilization, everyone likes balls to socialize."
Saber grinned.
"Both the dueling arena and the ball simply provide a place to socialize, the great families discussing the distribution of benefits from their seats, the girl picking out her husband, the boy picking out his wife."
The doctor didn't reply, he just gazed silently at the crowd below, they wore false masks and knew no one it was a tradition amongst the nobles, like a tacit understanding of the heart to uphold the last falsehood of the lie,...
"It looks like you were prepared beforehand."
"Those honorable nobles should never have come to this filthy lower city, let alone wearing masks, no matter what their status the officials and families would deny they died here, it's a shame."
From the beginning this night's ball was a trap, they would be Saber's pallbearers for that grand long-cherished wish.
I will give you satisfaction doctor, as I should have done since my birth.
Saber removed one of the syringes from the carrying case, for the first time he stood up, his figure so hunched and short, but the shadow cast was unmistakably hideous.