A Chaldean protocol was to give health inspections to rayshifters before and after their mission to ensure they were in stable condition for the process. Usually, this covered Masters rather than Servants due to their spiritual bodies. However, Caren had the misfortune of also knowing her way around spiritual healing, so the workload was heavier for her.
As she fumbled through patient profiles, the priestess thought over the benefits she should deserve for being in so high demand. Not to mention that she loathed having to do these inspections before the rayshift. Instead, her preference was for post-rayshift since it was therapeutic for her to have these strong fools begging for her help. The thrill of having control over whether they die while lording over their weak, vulnerable, and pitiful states was unbeatable. Of course, she heals the body and spirit out of the good of her heart, too, but her heart needs blood to keep it going, no? This sadism, thus, is her blood.
Therefore, her mood only worsened with the upcoming patient, greeting them with biting coldness unfitting for a doctor.
“Shall we get this farce over with? At least this will be quick and easy.”
Her mood soured over the idea that this person wasn’t going to be any fun; she looked over their medical records once more to check any details she may have missed. A superhuman, how banal! Regeneration, even? Immunity to poison at that, too. Despite being a Master, they could stand as equal to Servants in fortitude, strength, and agility if not surpass many of them. Their track record proved this too. Although not covered in medical records, anyone employed in Chaldea knew of their feats and prowess. No matter how ridiculous those accomplishments sounded, the person’s existence in the flesh credited them as well as multiple records from their compatriots. And, of course, Caren gave extra credence to their legend since they were a part of her faction. A Burial Agent. All sorts of fantastical tales ci