Late at night, in the special care ward next door, Lin En’s mother, Susan, was still asleep.
Her breathing was so weak it seemed it could cease at any moment.
That glaring gray-white hair felt as heavy as lead, weighing down on Lin En’s heart.
He dismissed everyone else, leaving only Lynn Viel waiting anxiously outside the door.
Lin En’s gaze fell on the thick bandages wrapped around his mother’s abdomen.
Deep within his sea of consciousness, two Mental Cores suddenly lit up!
They were not only the source of his spiritual power but also the most precise engines for energy analysis and reconstruction!
The massive amount of data he captured during Archbishop Edmund’s treatment in the day—the particle arrangement of Holy Light energy, frequency oscillations, energy flow paths—spread out instantly like a clear blueprint.
At the same time, the low-frequency spiritual harmonics he had keenly detected, the core code of that “Meme Contamination” clinging like a maggot to the bone, was precisely identified and stripped away by his spiritual power like a scalpel!
Reconstruction!
True, pure Holy Light!
Buzz—
A small beam of pure, condensed, warm, and tranquil milky-white light quietly formed at his fingertip.
This light shared the same origin as the Holy Light wielded by Archbishop Edmund, yet it had been stripped of all grand and imposing external pressure, and lacked the overwhelming weight of divine grace.
Most importantly, it contained not a trace of the impurities that induced faith or eroded cognition.
This was Holy Light purified by Lin En using the power of the Crystal Core, retaining only its most fundamental purification attribute.
Lin En held his breath, his gaze focused to the extreme.
He carefully controlled this hard-won pure Holy Light, guiding it like the most precise probe, slowly moving it toward the bandage wrapped around his mother’s abdomen.
The halo, like living water, ignored the barrier of fabric, silently penetrating and covering the gruesome wound with precision.
Zss…
An extremely subtle sound, like a hot silver needle plunging into icy water, was infinitely amplified within Lin En’s highly concentrated spiritual perception.
The instant the pure Holy Light touched the wound, those clusters of Withering Fever Spores, rooted like micro-tumors in the flesh and greedily devouring Susan’s life force, reacted violently on the surface!
Within the microscopic view of his spirit, Lin En clearly sensed the spores fading and dimming, as if they had met their nemesis wherever the Holy Light touched!
Under the illumination of the Holy Light, the spore colonies dissolved and disintegrated like thin snow exposed to scorching sun, vanishing into nothingness!
Effective!
It really worked!
A surge of indescribable excitement instantly rushed through Lin En’s heart.
His analysis was correct!
Pure Holy Light, stripped of Meme Contamination, possessed powerful restraining and purifying effects against aberrant entities like Withering Fever Spores!
This once again proved that the power of scientific analysis could pierce the mist of so-called faith, grace, and Divine Art to reach the essence!
His spirit soared, and he maintained the output of pure Holy Light with greater focus, guiding this light of hope in an attempt to penetrate deeper into the spore colonies within the wound…
However, this exhilaration lasted only a short while.
When the Holy Light attempted to penetrate deeper into the wound, reaching the spore colonies rooted at the core of his mother’s life force, an unexpected situation occurred.
Those deep-seated spores, like barnacles embedded in flesh, were extremely stubborn.
Pure Holy Light could purify some of the ones exposed outside, but could not reverse the loss of life force that had already been caused!
Susan’s breath remained weak, her vitality slipping away like sand through his fingers, impossible to recover.
Her gray-white hair did not regain a single hint of luster under the illumination of the Holy Light.
All the Holy Light could do was prevent the loss of vitality from accelerating any further.
Lin En’s expression gradually darkened.
He withdrew his spiritual power, and the pure Holy Light slowly dissipated.
He slumped against the wall in exhaustion, staring at his mother’s ashen face, as an overwhelming sense of helplessness washed over him like a cold tide.
The power of science could analyze Magic, comprehend Holy Light, and drive away anomalies—but it could not replenish stolen life.
The next day.
“Teacher…”
Lin En’s voice was hoarse with fatigue as he found Morton, who was handling affairs in his office.
He had decided to confess to Morton that he could use Holy Light Magic.
“Lin En? You look terrible. Your mother…”
Morton set down his pen, concern in his tone.
“Mother’s condition…hasn’t improved.”
Lin En cut him off, his voice low and direct.
He walked to Morton’s broad desk, resting his hands on the cold edge, his knuckles turning pale from the pressure.
He did not avoid Morton’s scrutinizing gaze.
Taking a deep breath, as if steeling himself, he spoke word by word.
“Teacher, I…tried.
Last night, I tried to use Holy Light…to heal my mother’s wound.”
“Holy Light?”
Morton was stunned at first, then his eyes turned razor sharp, like two unsheathed swords.
“Where did you—wait!”
As if recalling something, the vague sensation he’d felt during Lin En’s treatment by Edmund during the day surged back to his mind.
An almost absurd yet sole logical speculation exploded in his head!
“You—you mean—you yourself cast Holy Light?!”
Lin En met Morton’s stunned gaze and slowly, resolutely nodded.
“Yes.
While receiving Archbishop Edmund’s treatment, I…perceived and analyzed the core structure of the Holy Light energy.”
He did not mention the Meme Contamination harmonics—such information was too explosive.
With decades of experience from his previous life, Lin En knew such knowledge could trigger earth-shattering upheaval, and even bring catastrophic danger to himself and his family.
“Last night, I tried using Holy Light to purify the Withering Fever Spores in my mother’s wound.”
Morton abruptly stood up from his wide chair, the legs scraping loudly against the floor.
He strode around the desk in a few steps, looming over Lin En with a palpable sense of pressure, his eyes filled with disbelief and shock.
“You performed Divine Art exclusive to the Holy Light Church?!
How could you possibly do that?!
That’s not a matter of magic affinity!
Holy Light Divine Art is granted only to believers by the accumulation of faith over years—it is faith!
A gift of divine grace!”
His voice rose with agitation, shaken by the collapse of common sense.
For someone who was not a follower of the Light God to analyze and reproduce a core Divine Art—this was heresy that challenged the very foundation of Magic System understanding on the continent!
“I do not have faith in the Light God.”
Lin En’s voice was abnormally calm, even carrying the detached tone of scientific discussion.
“What I analyzed were its structure and rules, not the origin of its faith. Holy Light, in my eyes, is a special energy form with a certain order attribute that neutralizes and purifies chaos and abnormal states.”
He met Morton’s still-shocked eyes and continued, “The effect…was partially effective.
Pure Holy Light could significantly suppress the activity of Withering Fever Spores, purifying the superficial spores and clearing the infection around the wound.
But…”
Lin En’s voice sank, weighed down by deep helplessness.
“It cannot reach the spore colonies deeply rooted in my mother’s life core, nor can it reverse the permanent deficit of life force they have caused. The lost vitality of my mother cannot be restored.”
The shock on Morton’s face slowly ebbed like a retreating tide, replaced by deeper gravity and a hint of understanding.
He sat back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously drumming on the smooth tabletop, emitting a muffled “thud, thud”.
Lin En’s confession, though staggering, perfectly explained why he could detect anomalies within the Holy Light, as well as his current despair and plea for help.
More importantly, it proved that Lin En’s ability to analyze the essence of all things had reached a level even he could scarcely imagine.
“As expected…it’s not far from what I suspected.”
Morton exhaled deeply, his eyes growing profound.
“Holy Light can purify filth, but it cannot replenish life.
The most vicious aspect of Wither Fever is that it erodes life force itself.”
He lifted his gaze, once more looking out the window toward the distant skyline, as if his vision pierced through space to behold the vast forest shrouded in magical mist.
“To truly replenish, nourish, or even reconstruct the origin of life itself,”
Morton’s voice was low and ancient, carrying a heavy weight, “only the most fundamental Life Energy can do so. Such power has nearly vanished from the human world. It exists only in one place—the deepest part of the Endless Forest, the holy land of the Elves, the Hall of Life.”