"Yes, how could I refuse? This is a life not of this world... perhaps the truth I long for is hidden within its body?"

"How could I refuse?"

With a sinister echo, despite the injuries, the Plague Doctor seemed extremely pleased.

"You've impressed me, Lawrence Dean."

He said, no longer in his previous disarray; it was merely an act, just as Lawrence Dean noted, such injuries could not take his life.

If before there was some discord over interests and differing goals between them, now as the corpse of the Holy Grail truly lay exposed before the Plague Doctor, all obstacles vanished; he was very clear this was what he desired.

"But how do I study it? Won't it awaken as soon as it leaves the Alchemy Matrix?"

The Plague Doctor asked.

The consciousness governing the body no longer existed, but after all, it was the vessel for the Holy Grail, much like cells that proliferate insanely within a petri dish. Even void of consciousness, relying on biological instincts, it was extremely dangerous.

"I've prepared plenty beforehand; you can start from those items."

Lawrence Dean spoke, pulling another valve, and heavy iron walls descended, completely enveloping and sealing the pallid corpse. Immediately following the meshing and gnawing of gears, new test subjects rose from beneath the ground—one container after another of low-temperature, with pale flesh slowly wriggling in the faint blue solution.

It was a life form difficult to describe; clearly, they all stemmed from the Holy Grail, yet upon being separated, they resembled independent entities, twisting and churning blood and flesh, as if akin to the embryos of some eerie creature, immersed in faint blue amniotic fluid. The low temperature limited their activity, beside their mother, asleep.

"This is the tissue extracted from it; you may begin here."

The transplanted flesh on Lawrence Dean's chest originated from this. Upon opening the Holy Coffin, he only had a brief time to cut away a portion of the flesh tissue, with the remainder sealed up for containment.

The Plague Doctor gazed admiringly at the flesh. Although mentally prepared, the alarming erosion up close still made his heart pound.

"Unimaginable... how did your Demon Hunting Order initially perceive such existence?"

He marveled.

The terrifying erosion, even under the suppression of the Alchemy Matrix, could easily destroy the Plague Doctor's defenses, not to mention during its uncontained full strength period.

Merely understanding it would lead to madness, let alone knowing of its existence.

Yet the Demon Hunting Order accomplished it; not only did they find it, they contained it.

It was as if peering at a corner of that vast entity, the once power of the Demon Hunting Order was so profound and fearsome, it was a group truly able to fight against despair, the Firekeeper illuminating the night.

"That was a long time ago."

Lawrence Dean said calmly, seemingly unwilling to reminisce much about the matter.

Though the glory of the past no longer existed, the power of the Demon Hunting Order still harbored various doubts.

"But before studying these, Plague Doctor, you have one more thing to do."

He turned to the Plague Doctor.

"What matter?"

The Plague Doctor asked, beyond excited at that moment, feeling that the ultimate secret concerning the Demon lay here, in the depths of this steamship, within that pallid corpse.

"An interesting plan."

Lawrence Dean extended his hand, the aging, rigid body beneath the scarlet robe.

"The transformation of my body by the Holy Grail Flesh is not effective, merely barely extending the life of this body."

He gazed at the Plague Doctor, then opened his clothing; the twisted flesh occupied most of his chest, yet oddly, the deformed flesh hung on his body like a tumor... as if a parasite, extracting Lawrence Dean's life force.

"So was the transplant operation a failure?"

The Plague Doctor's gaze cooled down, understanding precisely what this situation was—the Holy Grail's flesh was eroding Lawrence Dean, tough to imagine when the flesh fully fuses and grows, whether before him would be Lawrence Dean or something else.

"No failure, it's merely I am too old... I need a younger body."

Lawrence Dean coughed heavily, as he said, he was too old, this body has endured too much, unable to continue bearing the power of the Holy Grail, unable to start resisting that revived strength, nor able to discard it.

He remained powerful, only as he nourished it, the Holy Grail's flesh began awakening. Biological instinct would seize Lawrence Dean's life, the balance between him and it progressively tilted.

When Lawrence Dean acquired the ultimate strength within the Holy Grail Flesh, it was also the moment the flesh entirely eroded Lawrence Dean.

"Therefore what? I sever your head, transplant it onto another body before you die?"

The Plague Doctor said, such a thing was outright impractical.

"No need for those, merely an Alchemy Matrix is required."

His voice was somewhat weary.

"Still remember what I said? Plague Doctor, about the [Gap]."

"That is an eerie and mystical spiritual world, strengthened by the Holy Grail, I can achieve [Gap] traversal... actually this power is incomplete, just as the Demon Hunter requires the Alchemy Matrix inscribed on their body to awaken the Authority within the Secret Blood, this [Gap] traversal power also necessitates the assistance of the Alchemy Matrix."

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