Has the knight lady who married into the countryside fallen into depravity today?

After dinner, the deduction work in the study finally came to an end.

The core framework of the magic array, suspended in mid-air, was fully formed. The dark blue light flickered slightly in the dim room, becoming more stable and profound than ever before, like a miniature sea that had been tamed.

Now, all that's left is to fill in a few key sets of magic data.

"Knock, knock, knock."

A regular, steady, and decisive knocking sounded at the right time.

"Enter."

Raymond pushed open the door and entered, casually blocking the draft from the corridor outside through the crack in the door behind him.

"Master." The old butler stopped three steps away from the desk, his back ramrod straight, and began to report methodically, "Karen's wounds have been treated. The healing potion you prepared worked quickly; the festering at the edge of the deep-sea magic's erosion has stopped, and she is now settled and in a deep hibernation."

Klein didn't look up. The quill in his hand flew across the parchment, the tip of the pen making a soft "shush" sound as it traced the last complex magical loop.

"Also, I just received word from Miss Lillian's sewing shop." Raymond paused slightly, a barely perceptible hint of gentleness creeping into his usually rigid tone. "Madam's wedding dress is in its final stages of finishing. Miss Lillian said that to ensure a proper fit, Madam can go for a fitting in a couple of days."

Upon hearing this, Klein's pen, which had been moving smoothly, came to an abrupt halt.

A drop of ink spread across the parchment, but he paid it no mind. He had devoted almost all his energy these past few days to the research on deep-sea magic and Karen's treatment, his mind filled with high-dimensional topology and the soul matrix, but he had not forgotten this matter at all.

Taking Ophelia to try on wedding dresses when I have some free time is the most important thing right now.

His wife's dazzling blonde hair involuntarily surfaced in his mind, along with her golden eyes that always exuded a cool and heroic air, yet would reveal panic and affection when facing him.

How beautiful she would be if she wore that pure white wedding dress that Lillian had poured her heart and soul into?

I'll always have plenty of time for things related to her.

"Okay, I understand."

Klein looked up, the fatigue from days of hard work instantly fading from his eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Raymond, you arrange the timing yourself. Prepare the most spacious carriage in advance, with soft cushions so she doesn't feel bumpy on the road."

"As you wish, sir." Raymond bowed slightly.

After recounting this pleasant personal matter, Klein astutely noticed that Raymond was still standing there, not leaving immediately after finishing his report as he usually did.

"Anything else?" Klein put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and casually moved his aching wrist, his knuckles making a slight cracking sound.

Raymond bowed again, his tone returning to its usual rigid and serious manner, as if he were stating a thorny political matter: "Miss Lyra is waiting in the lobby downstairs right now. She's been standing there ever since Karen went to bed, without even a sip of water. She says she desperately wants to see you and say a few words to you in person."

Klein picked up the parchment covered with intricate wavy lines, tapped his knuckles lightly on the edge of the page, and fell into a brief moment of contemplation.

"Let her up." He had barely uttered the words when he glanced at the alchemical reagents emanating a dangerous aura and the magic arrays shimmering with an eerie light in the study, and immediately changed his mind.

He casually tossed the parchment back onto the table, stood up, and straightened his cuffs. "Never mind, the residual magic here is too strong; an ordinary person couldn't withstand it. I'm going down to see her."

Raymond paused for a moment, a hint of approval for his young master's thoughtfulness flashing in his eyes, before nodding and stepping out the door, carrying a magic lantern to lead the way.

Only two wall lamps were left on in the lobby on the first floor.

Leila stood at the edge of the shadow at the top of the stairs.

The dim light shone on her thin profile, outlining her sunken eye sockets and pale lips.

Her fingers were tightly twisting the hem of the linen garment, which was washed until it was faded and even had some frayed edges.

The silver anchor pendant around her neck rose and fell slightly with her rapid breathing.

Hearing steady footsteps on the stairs and seeing Klein descend, she rushed forward as if electrocuted, awkwardly curtsying in a slightly clumsy, commoner's greeting that she had clearly learned elsewhere.

"Mr. Klein," she called out, her voice dry and hoarse, as if she had swallowed a handful of coarse sand.

Klein walked to the center of the hall, pulled out a heavy, high-backed chair, sat down, and gestured to the empty seat across a round table. His voice was gentle and steady: "Sit down and talk. Don't be so formal. Karen's wounds have been treated properly. The dosage of the healing agent was just right, and she's sleeping soundly now. She won't have any more painful struggles tonight."

Upon hearing the news that Karen was alright, Lyra's shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly, but she shook her head and stubbornly refused to sit down.

She looked down intently at the toes of her old leather boots, which were covered in mud, and after a long while, she managed to squeeze out the words that had been stuck in her throat and churning over countless times.

"Master...I...Is there anything I can do to help him?"

She suddenly tilted her head back, her eyes red as if dripping blood, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, veins bulging on the back of her hands.

"He was screaming terribly upstairs today... the sound was like a knife scraping my bones."

Tears welled in her eyes, but she stubbornly held them back. "I don't know magic, nor do I know how to heal. I believe you're trying to save him, and this is the only way we can do it. I'm just asking if there's anything I can do? Or, or perhaps some medicine that can lessen his suffering?"

She spoke extremely fast, with a desperate urgency, as if she was afraid that if she paused, she would be kicked out by this high and mighty nobleman. She didn't even dare to catch her breath.

"I'd do anything to make him feel better, even if it meant draining all my blood! My blood is healthy; I do hard labor all year round, so I'm in good physical shape..."

Upon hearing this, Klein couldn't help but raise his hand and press it against his aching temples.

blood draw?

Klein sighed inwardly, almost amused by this simple, almost primitive idea.

What did this girl take this place for? One of those rural shamanistic clinics? Or one of those quack doctors who only know how to swindle money with bloodletting?

What he is doing now is to snatch a broken soul from the mental pollution of the Sirens, those evil creatures of the deep sea. This is tantamount to wrestling with an evil god from afar.

The complexity of this situation is such that even a seasoned and resolute knight like Ophelia, let alone an ordinary civilian like Lyra who has no magic, would be unable to intervene, except to stand by and draw her sword to protect him from being corrupted by the whispers of the deep sea.

This is as absurd as asking a child who can only do addition and subtraction within 100 to help prove a mathematical problem involving high-dimensional topology and spatial folding.

What can she do? Hand her paper or grind ink? Even getting close to those radioactive alchemical materials would make her seriously ill.

But when Klein's gaze fell on Lyra, he swallowed back the refusal that was on the tip of his tongue.

He saw a pair of bloodshot eyes, red and stubborn like rocks on the beach.

It burned with a flame that would protect the beloved even at the cost of being shattered to pieces.

He suddenly realized that he couldn't just send her away like that.

If you directly tell her, "You're too weak, you can't help with anything, and staying here will only cause trouble," it would be like kicking her already crumbling mental defenses, which are barely holding on by a thread, to a fatal blow.

This resilient girl, who had struggled in the shantytown and endured countless scornful looks yet still fiercely protected her mentally unstable fiancé, needed neither condescending pity nor feeble comfort at this moment.

What she needs is a real sense of "participation" that she can firmly grasp.

A real sense of "I'm fighting for Karen too, I haven't abandoned him."

This is her psychological anchor for staying alive.

Klein lowered his hands, slowly leaned back in the high-backed chair, and interlaced his fingers on his abdomen.

He re-examined Lyra, his gaze no longer fixed on a pitiful person seeking help, but rather on a serious assessment of a "part" that could shine in the alchemy workshop.

"No need for blood tests. My lab doesn't do those barbaric rituals." He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, but it carried a calming power that made Leila's tense shoulders relax almost imperceptibly.

At least, the old man didn't kick her out immediately.

“However,” Klein’s tone shifted, becoming serious, “I do have some tasks that are severely understaffed. Some… extremely tedious, tedious, but also requiring extremely meticulous and patient work. If anything goes wrong, it will affect the effectiveness of the subsequent medicine.”

Lyra's eyes lit up instantly, a light like a candle flame suddenly lit by a strong wind in the dark night, so bright it was almost scorching.

"I can do it! Sir, I can do anything! I'm patient, I... I'm very meticulous! I've picked out the smallest fish bones for people in the sheds, I definitely won't break anything!" She stammered, nervously wiping cold sweat from the hem of her clothes, afraid he would change his mind.

Klein stood up and turned his head slightly toward her.

"Come with me."

Instead of taking Lyra upstairs to the study filled with complex magic arrays, deep-sea pollution, and dangerous reagents, he led her through a long corridor on the first floor into a storage room specifically used for processing basic materials.

Pushing open the heavy oak door, the room was immediately filled with a dry aroma of various herbs and minerals, with a hint of bitterness and fragrance.

On the shelves by the wall, wooden boxes and glass bottles with detailed labels were neatly stacked, appearing mysterious and serene under the magical glow.

Klein walked to the shelf, his gaze sweeping over the rows of materials, and finally took down a wooden box and a small stone mortar with a pestle.

"This contains evening primroses," he said, opening the wooden box to reveal a pile of dried petals with a faint silvery-white sheen. "Its powder has an excellent effect on calming the mind and stabilizing the fluctuations of the soul. It is one of the essential auxiliary materials used to stabilize the matrix in the alchemy ritual I later prepared for Karen."

He pushed the wooden box, along with the heavy mortar, onto the wooden table in front of Leila.

"I want you to grind all these petals into the finest powder. Remember, there can't be even the slightest graininess; it must be as fine as the finest flour. Moreover, to ensure the purity of the medicine's effects, this process cannot use any magical or mechanical alchemical tools; it can only be done by hand, bit by bit, using this stone pestle in your hand."

Then he pointed to another glass bottle next to him, which contained some dark green, willow-leaf-shaped herbaceous plants.

"And this, the Tranquilizing Herb. You need to separate all its leaves and stems one by one. The leaves and stems must be placed in different containers, and not a single one must be mixed up or damaged, otherwise the spiritual energy of the herb will be lost."

Generally speaking, these are the most basic and unskilled chores that alchemy apprentices would do.

Normally, given Klein's rigorous standards for alchemy, he might even find the hand-processed materials insufficiently precise and would often use a miniature wind blade array to cut and pulverize them.

But at this moment, this is the most suitable job for Leila in the world.

This would exhaust her energy, fill her time, and most importantly, soothe her anxious heart.

Leila looked down at the materials on the table.

In her eyes, those were not withered grass and dried flowers, but a priceless treasure that could pull Karen back from the abyss.

She vigorously wiped the sweat from her palms on her clothes before carefully picking up the stone mortar.

"I understand." She didn't ask why she should do it this way, nor did she question whether this seemingly clumsy method would actually work.

She simply raised her head and looked at Klein with her still red but now refocused eyes.

She stood ramrod straight and solemnly, as if making a vow, said, word by word, "Please rest assured, I will definitely do a good job. I will never waste a single leaf of yours."

"Very good, I believe you." Klein nodded gently, turned around and was about to leave the storage room, leaving the quiet space to her.

However, as he reached the door, he stopped, turned back to look at the slender figure who had already eagerly picked up the pestle, and left with a single sentence:

"These things are important, but there's no rush to use them. You can give them to me tomorrow at noon. You also need to take care of yourself and get some rest. If Karen wakes up and sees you collapsed, she'll probably go crazy again."

Leila paused slightly as she pounded the medicine, her eyes welling up with tears again, but she nodded vigorously.

Klein rested his hand on the doorknob, hesitated for half a second, and then added:

"Also, if you become interested in the principles behind these materials while you're working with them... you can ask Raymond for a copy of 'Basic Alchemy' tomorrow. It has illustrations, you can try learning from it."

After saying that, he gently closed the door to the storage room.