When the plot-skips players into the game world-Chapter 1325 - 48: Argon de Vandom

Aiwass silently observed the Old Duke.

——No matter which "Annie Alexander" gave birth to him, or which "Annie de Vandomme" is currently alive, which one is the original, which one is the duplicate... one thing is self-evident.

That is... this Old Duke of the Vandom Family is indeed Aiwass’s true grandfather.

Only at this moment did Aiwass truly realize...

That he still had a true, direct blood relative alive in this world.

The familial love he once sought from the Old Queen was now his without needing to seek it out.

And the Old Duke too was gazing at Aiwass.

His eyes, which should have been emerald green, were now veiled with a mist, emanating a greyish hue. Even so, he didn’t need spectacles to clearly see Aiwass’s features.

"...So alike."

The Old Duke stared unblinkingly at Aiwass, murmuring softly.

Aiwass sat quietly on the opposite sofa, with Annie beside him, facing Sherlock. Arsene, who hesitated behind them, removed his coat and sat alone on another side, occupying the largest sofa.

"Like... you?"

Aiwass softly asked, "Like you when you were young."

Seeing this elder, who despite his age, still vaguely resembled himself, Aiwass became much more compliant.

"Heh heh... you could say that."

The Old Duke replied vaguely.

His voice was deep, his laughter reverberating from the depths of his throat. It was like the roar of a tiger or lion.

He stared fixedly at Aiwass and suddenly uttered a name: "Argon."

"What?"

"My name... is Argon de Vandom."

Old Argon’s finger tapped on the armrest of the sofa, his tone gentle and calm.

To this suddenly-appeared grandson, the elderly man’s voice was so tender, as if raising it slightly might frighten him away.

"I’ll remember it."

Aiwass nodded earnestly.

Silence once again overtook the table, while Sherlock, sipping tea with barely a curved corner at his mouth, pretended not to notice, focusing solely on his tea, silent as ever.

He didn’t speak first, nor did he directly share his encounters with Aiwass.

By Aiwass’s knowledge of Sherlock, this meant Sherlock had found the thread but had not yet finished—he always enjoyed maintaining such mysteries.

When he didn’t have a lead, he liked discussing the case with others to gain inspiration. But once inspiration struck and he got hold of a direction, he would suddenly fall silent and work alone to verify his suspicions—

Because that was Sherlock’s pride and reserve.

He didn’t want to speculate wrongly, which would mean failure and mislead others’ thoughts. This, to Sherlock, was an unacceptable failure—he might miss the truth sometimes, but he couldn’t forgive himself for stating a false truth.

Once he confirmed everything, he would pour out the whole truth like beans from a bamboo tube. Even if you didn’t want to hear it, you would—Sherlock at this stage always had an unusually strong desire to speak... If he knew you were busy, he’d continue the conversation the next time you met.

——Like someone excitedly recounting to his girlfriend about his passion for tokusatsu or cards.

Aiwass saw Sherlock immersed in the second stage and knew there was no discussing with the riddle-loving Sherlock, so he turned his head to look at the Old Duke directly.

He hesitated a moment before directly asking, "Your Grace... are you unwell?"

He couldn’t help feeling worried seeing Old Argon fear the cold to such an abnormal degree.

It’s already May.

Even with the fireplace on and clad in heavy fur pajamas, he still shivered... If not for Aiwass’s significant fire resistance, he would have overheated within moments. Even though Arsene was accustomed to heavy clothes due to Secret Continuation, he too had to remove his coat to sit comfortably.

"At present, I might rank among the top three healers in this Material Realm. If there are any health issues, it might be more beneficial to consult me than to take medication or request treatment from other bishops."

Aiwass saying he’s one of the top three was modest.

Even the current His Holiness in healing may not match Aiwass with the Sin Beast form.

Old Argon didn’t refuse; instead, he smiled at Aiwass: "Then it’s up to you."

A glint of golden light flashed in Aiwass’s eyes, lighting up the crimson splendor that symbolized the path of Dedication.

No words, no action required—the "Regeneration Blessing," which slowly restores the body, was already cast. Following it was a free "Radiance" cast over Old Argon.

The Old Duke’s body instantly regained vitality, the bluish-purple skin returning to normal vitality. Even those grey eyes turned emerald green again. It was as if he had inflated, revived from withered to full, appearing twenty years younger.

Even Argon himself was surprised: "Is this... the healing ability of a former Pope? It really did..."

Upon hearing this, Aiwass became inwardly aware.

He evidently hadn’t anticipated Aiwass’s healing ability to be so strong.

Previously, when he allowed Aiwass to heal, it might have been just not to dampen his spirits.

But from another angle...

Neither the Illumination Art nor the Radiant Spell could extend life. Bringing vitality to an aged body and thus restoring a youthful physical state was within the realm of the Rite of Fire... It was the "company benefit" of the Candle Master for those priests burning their lives to light others.

The Illumination Art could only "repaired damage."

——Put another way, Argon’s condition wasn’t natural... it was man-made.

Only curses or harm inflicted by others get restored through the Illumination Art.

In gaming terms... only the empty health gauge can be replenished, lowering the max health can’t be rectified no matter what.

"...Why would you think healing wouldn’t work?"

Aiwass asked seriously, "Did you receive Illumination Art from a bishop, but it wasn’t effective?"

"Yes..."

Argon immediately felt the heat.

He ordered the closure of the furnace and took off his pajamas himself. Annie noticeably felt the chill, shrinking her neck but saying nothing.

Argon realized this.

He didn’t immediately answer Aiwass’s inquiry but first looked at Aiwass, asking for his daughter’s sake: "Could you use that healing technique on Annie as well?"

"Of course."

Aiwass responded without hesitation.

As a Priest, don’t say this is his mother’s equivalent... even if a stranger asked, he would certainly accept. Regard aside—this is the commitment of a Contributor.

As a Contributor, with the ability within reach to help others, ignoring others’ suffering would be as agonizing as extreme gluttons forced to fast, or extremely desirous individuals denied satisfaction.

After Annie received treatment, she too touched her heart in surprise.

"...Indeed, it’s not cold anymore."

"What’s exactly the situation?"

Aiwass asked seriously, "Is it some sort of curse?"

"Perhaps it is... but I can’t be certain whether it’s a curse or a blessing. I’ve sought many de-curse methods... whether it’s a bishop’s healing or a witch’s de-curse, none helped. Ancestors faced the same... I never thought..."

Argon breathed a sigh of relief, the tension in his body easing.

His expression was extremely complex. Rescued yet without obvious excitement, rather filled with remorse and regret.

Annie, next to him, spoke softly: "In the past Vandome lineage... there was an ancestor who committed a taboo. Since then, every generation of Vanderome has suffered a mysterious illness.

"At random points in life, the disease suddenly surfaces. From then on, the body feels cold every night. The nearer it gets to midnight, the colder it feels, and only after The Sun rises does it return to normal.

"The longer one has the disease, the colder it becomes. My brother Bellard, for instance, fell ill around ages six or seven, and died at twenty. The doctor said he froze to death, as if lying in a winter storm overnight."

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