Chapter 640: A Doctor And A Nun

Unlike what Aqua might have imagined, Maria was not spending her afternoon strolling gently through the hospital gardens, laughing with children, handing out sweets, or sitting beside elderly patients while listening to their stories.

Normally, that was exactly what she loved to do.

Whenever she visited the hospital, she would brighten the wards, kneel beside the sick, brush hair away from feverish brows, bring handmade gifts, and play silly games with the children until they forgot, even for a moment that they were ill.

But today was different.

Right now, Maria stood inside a dimly lit operating theater.

The room was heavy with the scent of sterilizing herbs and alchemical disinfectants.

Crystals embedded into the walls cast a cold white glow over everything, reflecting off polished metal trays filled with surgical instruments.

She wore a full surgical gown, gloves, and a mask that concealed the lower half of her face.

Around her, a handful of nurses moved with practiced efficiency, their faces serious beneath their own masks.

Medical instruments gleamed under the bright surgical lights focused on the operating table.

And on that table lay a patient.

Their stomach was cut open, the incision held apart by retractors, revealing the complex landscape of internal organs beneath.

Blood lined the edges of the wound, carefully controlled but still present—a constant reminder of the fragility of the life lying before them.

Standing at the center of it all, wielding the surgical instruments with the precision of an artist, was Lady Diana.

Her usually warm, motherly expression was nowhere to be seen.

In its place was the focused intensity of a master surgeon, her eyes narrowed as she worked on a delicate section of the patient’s anatomy.

Her gloved hands moved with certainty, each motion deliberate and purposeful.

And Maria stood at her side, not as a visitor or a friend...

...but as an assistant.

It was quite obvious that they were not having a great time.

This was serious, life-or-death work, and every person in the room carried the weight of that responsibility.

"This section is necrotic." Diana said calmly, voice firm despite the gravity of the situation. "We’ll remove it before the infection spreads further."

"Forceps." Diana said.

Maria placed the instrument into her hand before the word had even fully left her lips.

"Mana stabilizer."

Already there.

"Retractor, please. Slight adjustment."

Maria’s hands moved, making the tiny adjustment and Diana didn’t have to say anything specific.

She simply knew what was required, her eyes following Diana’s work, anticipating the next need before it arose.

The operation proceeded smoothly.

Diana did most of the heavy lifting—her expertise was unparalleled, after all.

But Maria was the perfect complement, efficient and intuitive, providing exactly what was needed at exactly the right moment.

Until—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

A machine beside the bed suddenly sprang to life, its rhythmic beeping accelerating into a frantic staccato.

It resembled an EKG monitor, but the symbols and readings were different—adapted to this world’s understanding of life forces and magical energy flows.

The nurses’ faces went pale.

"Blood loss is accelerating!"

"Heart rate is dropping!"

"Vitals are destabilizing—she’s crashing!"

Panic rippled through the room like a wave, the nurses scrambling to respond to the sudden crisis.

Numbers flickered on the monitor, each one worse than the last.

The patient’s life hung in the balance, slipping away second by second.

But Diana didn’t panic.

Her eyes remained calm, focused, analyzing the situation with the cold precision of someone who had faced death a thousand times and refused to let it win.

"Clamp." She said, her voice steady despite the chaos. "Now."

Maria was already handing it to her.

"More light on the lower quadrant. Pressure here—"

Diana gestured with her chin, her hands occupied.

"Someone get that bleeding under control. I need visualization."

The nurses scrambled to follow her instructions, but Maria was already moving.

She adjusted the light, applied pressure exactly where Diana needed it, and had the next instrument ready before Diana could ask.

The monitor continued its frantic beeping.

Blood continued to flow.

But Diana worked on, unshaken, and Maria matched her beat for beat.

Minutes stretched like hours.

The nurses watched anxiously, their breaths held, their eyes fixed on the two women fighting to save a life.

This was the most serious operation any of them had witnessed in months, and the outcome was far from certain.

But Diana’s hands never trembled.

Maria’s assistance never faltered.

And slowly, gradually—

The beeping began to slow.

The numbers on the monitor steadied, then began climbing back toward normal ranges.

"The bleeding’s under control." One of the nurses breathed. "Vitals are stabilizing!"

A collective sigh of relief swept through the room.

Diana and Maria exchanged a brief look—not of triumph, but of quiet satisfaction.

The kind of look shared between people who had just faced down death together and won.

Diana then turned back to the patient and began the careful work of closing the incision.

Her needle moved along as her scalpel had, stitching flesh back together with meticulous care.

Maria assisted silently, holding tissues in place, cutting thread, doing everything needed to support the final stages of the procedure.

When it was done, Diana finally straightened.

"The patient is stable." She said calmly. "Monitor him closely for the next six hours."

The nurses bowed respectfully.

"Yes, Doctor."

"We’ll take it from here."

Diana nodded and turned toward the door. Maria followed, and together they exited the operating theater.

The moment they stepped through the door, they began shedding their surgical gear—gowns disposed of, masks pulled down, gloves stripped away.

They washed their hands and faces thoroughly, the warm water carrying away not just the physical remnants of the surgery but some of the tension as well.

Then they pushed open the final door and stepped into the main hospital.

The change was immediate—and jarring.

Sunlight streamed through tall windows, warming the corridors with golden light.

Birds chirped somewhere outside, their songs drifting through open windows.

And through those same windows, they could see children running and playing in the hospital gardens, their laughter carrying on the breeze.

Maria let out a soft chuckle.

"One moment." She said gently. "We’re in a room where a life hangs by a thread..."

She glanced back toward the closed operating door.

"And the very next moment...we step out into a world filled with sunshine and laughter."

She looked toward the children playing.

"Isn’t that fascinating?"

Diana gave a soft, elegant smile.

"It is."

She folded her arms loosely, her posture finally relaxing.

"And to tell you the truth, when I first began performing surgeries..." Diana continued quietly. "...even after stepping out of the theater, the pressure never left me."

Her eyes drifted slightly.

"I would carry it home. Even when I saw Vivi, even when she smiled...the weight of it lingered."

Maria listened attentively.

"It was difficult." Diana admitted. "Balancing life and death with motherhood. Responsibility with compassion."

She inhaled slowly.

"But now..."

A refined calmness filled her expression.

"Now, when I leave that room, I leave it there."

She glanced back toward the operating theater.

"Even when we lose someone...even when we cannot save them..."

Her voice softened.

"I grieve. But I do not carry that grief home."

She looked at Maria with a hint of doubt.

"Sometimes I wonder...is that wrong? To let go so easily? To not hold onto that sorrow?"

Maria reached out without hesitation and placed a gentle hand on Diana’s shoulder.

"It’s all right, Diana." She said softly. "It’s completely all right."

Diana looked at her, searching her face for reassurance.

"I know you always put a hundred percent into saving your patients." Maria continued. "Everyone here knows that. If a patient were to be lost in your hands, it would only mean that our luck was unfortunate."

"That it was simply their time to meet the Goddess."

She squeezed Diana’s shoulder gently.

"What you’re doing isn’t cold or detached. It’s healthy. It’s normal. Never doubt yourself upon that."

Diana stared at her for a moment.

Then, slowly, the uncertainty in her eyes melted away.

Her frown transformed into a genuine smile,.the kind that reached her eyes and softened her entire face.

"I could always rely on you to cheer up my spirits, Maria." She said warmly. "You really have a gift when it comes to that."

They began walking toward Diana’s office, their footsteps echoing in the now-quiet corridor as she continued to say,

"And it’s not just me. No matter who it is—no matter who they are you always liven the mood.

’Even today, while meeting all those children before the surgery—you were an absolute gem. You made even the saddest of them smile and giggle."

She shook her head admiringly.

"I have so much to learn from you, truly."

"...Oh, please."

Maria waved a hand dismissively, though her cheeks flushed slightly with pleasure.

"You’re speaking too highly of me. I’m not someone great at all."

"In fact..." She looked at her teasingly. "...you’re the one I have to learn from."

"After all, you’re the Holy Healer. The greatest doctor in the entire human kingdom."

"You literally bring life from death itself. The number of lives you’ve saved? It’s uncountable."

She leaned in conspiratorially as she said,

"In fact, I met some soldiers from the Red Army a month ago. And even after it’s been months since whatever battle they were talking about..."

"...they kept going on and on about how you saved them. How you saved entire battalions of their comrades."

Diana’s cheeks flushed slightly.

"And that’s not even the best part."

Maria’s smile widened.

"They even have a picture of you up on their walls. Apparently, they all pray to it every single time before battle."

Diana’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes going trembling in disbelief.

"You’re joking." She breathed. "That can’t be true. There’s no way—"

Maria shook her head firmly.

"It absolutely is. I almost thought I was hallucinating for a second when they told me. But they explained that they put it up because they treat you as a sort of Saintess now."

"They pray to you whenever they go through any sort of tedious battle, hoping that you’ll protect them."

"B-But I really did nothing at all." Diana insisted quietly. "I was simply doing my duty as a doctor and a healer. That’s all."

"To you, it may seem like nothing." Maria stopped and said gently. "But to them? You saved lives that could not have been saved otherwise. You gave them back to their families, their friends, their futures."

She looked directly into Diana’s eyes.

"So don’t go underestimating yourself. What you’re doing—it’s the Goddess’s own work. You might as well be the goddess’s daughter, for all the good you’ve done in this world."

Diana was quiet, then slowly, a smile spread across her face which confused Maria.

"Why are you smiling, Diana?"

Maria asked, poking her shoulder playfully as they continued walking.

"Don’t tell me you don’t believe me. You still have doubts about yourself, don’t you?"

Diana shook her head, still smiling.

"No, no, it’s not that at all." She glanced at Maria, her eyes sparkling with gentle humor. "It’s just...it’s funny to hear you call me the Goddess’s daughter."

Maria tilted her head. "Why is that funny?"

"Because." Diana said, pausing to let the weight of her words settle. "Your actual daughter—Joy—is literally chosen by the Goddess herself."

"She carries the Goddess’s blessing. She’s as close to a divine daughter as anyone in this world could possibly be."

"And here you are, calling me the Goddess’s daughter, when your own flesh and blood is the one who actually has that connection."

She laughed softly.

"It’s just...funny to think about it like that."

Maria was surprised. But then she laughed too—a genuine, full-bodied laugh that echoed down the corridor.

"You know what?" She said, wiping at her eyes. "I didn’t even think about that. But you’re absolutely right. That is funny."

Diana joined in her laughter, both of them giggling like girls who had been friends for decades...

...since they actually were friends for who had met a long time ago, when they need each other the most.