"..."

Did you actually discover the problem through the... number?

After hearing the reason behind the old bull's insight into the deception, Leon's mouth twitched fiercely, feeling as if his ears had been polluted by something strange.

Though it sounded absurd, it made sense after thinking it through. After all, if a beauty had four... elders, and I still found her as lovely as a fairy, I'd definitely feel something was off.

So, ultimately, the horse-headed lady simply chose the wrong target for disguise. Or rather, she didn't choose wrongly, it's just that a minotaur could accept this aesthetic, but both cattle and humans couldn't.

'Your observation was... quite meticulous...'

After a somewhat insincere compliment to the old bull, Leon decisively skipped the topic, focusing on the horse-headed lady lost in thought, while exchanging thoughts with the old bull:

'Never mind grandma's issue for now, who do you think she might be?'

'Moo (A root legacy resident)'

Reluctantly stealing a glance at the horse-headed lady's beautiful back, the old bull sighed in regret, mooing:

'Moo moo moo (Even though I was empowered to be the dream column deity, I couldn't resist her allure. That could only mean she is a Lord mastering the roots.)'

Otherwise? You don't need to say that!

Facing the old bull's redundant comment, Leon replied somewhat speechlessly:

'I asked which number she might be, which Lord among them!'

'Moo moo moo... moo moo? (She's not using her real face, how would I know which one she is? But if I must say... perhaps Ancestral Land of Ten Thousand Spirits or Ascending Extreme Domain? Or Hanging Horn Star Gorge is also possible?)'

His enormous bull eyes blinked as the old bull uncertainly mooed: 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

'Moo moo moo moo (Allure is a spiritual-level power. For you to not notice immediately proves that her roots in will, spirit, and soul are strong, at least not much weaker than yours)

Among the root legacy residents involved in the spiritual realm, there's only the Dream Resting Gulch for No. 7, Ancestral Land of Ten Thousand Spirits for No. 11, Ascending Extreme Domain for No. 12, and Hanging Horn Star Gorge for No. 2. Considering No. 7 is already in your stomach, she should be one of the other three)'

No. 11, No. 12, or No. 2?

After carefully recording the old bull's analysis, Leon furrowed his brows and pondered.

He recalled Evangelin mentioning that root legacy residents typically get stronger the closer their numbers are to the top. Although being lower in number doesn't mean utterly powerless — as No. 7 Lord of Dream Rest once left No. 1 helpless — generally, this rule holds.

After devouring the Dream Resting Master, Leon possessed seventy-five percent of the No. 7 root, a small part of the No. 9 root, and the broken and unsealed No. 3 root. When facing No. 11 and No. 12, he should have the upper hand, but against No. 2...

'(Moo) Can't win'

Having once "extracted" part of Leon's soul fragments, thus faintly aware of his thoughts, the old bull snorted and commented:

'Moo moo moo moo (Among the fourteen root legacy residents qualified for the ultimate mission, Nos. 1, 2, 3, and 4 are the most important and complete, capable of containing roots beyond their domain, distinctly stronger than the others)

Moo moo moo moo moo moo (If the current existence were complete, you could indeed compare or even surpass No. 2. But the current existence has collided with shattered roots pursued, so you're only half a No. 3 now. Encountering No. 2 is likely unfavorable unless collaborating with the Pure White Holy Mother is feasible)'

Oh, I see...

After the old bull's reminder, Leon nodded slightly, not pressing further, choosing instead to lie back down on the sickbed, dutifully playing the role of a convalescing bull.

Regardless of which number the horse-headed lady truly is, her infiltration suggests she probably isn't aligned with the Pure White Holy Mother, perhaps even adversarial.

His goal in infiltrating was to discern if the Pure White Holy Mother was genuine or fake, suitable as an ally. Thus, the horse-headed lady's appearance was a favorable event.

After all, the Pure White Holy Mother couldn't possibly remain in the abyss forever. She'd return soon, pushing the infiltrating horse-headed lady to act. When she inevitably stirs things up, the truth Leon seeks would likely come to light.

Ultimately, instead of probing aimlessly, following this horse-foot-revealing lady is much safer!

Having decided to follow the horse's lead through the waters, Leon abandoned thoughts of switching rooms, patiently lurking alongside the horse-headed lady. Approximately two days later, large numbers of new "patients" began arriving en masse, and the once spacious sickroom gradually turned lively and crowded.

Looks like the Lost Souls of Shepherd's Plain are being drawn here too.

Gazing at the assortment of bizarre beasts now filling the sickroom like a menagerie, Leon couldn't help but slightly turn his head, sneaking a glance left at the curtained partition.

Since many beast-like Lost Souls began flooding in, the beds instantly became scarce. The angels, overwhelmed, struggled to care for so many mentally unstable patients, sometimes prone to breakdowns, crying, or even brawling. Thus, they opted to "merge similar items."

After relocating most non-beast patients, the angels managing the expansive sickroom grouped similar species together for unified management. Consequently, as herbivorous cattle and horses, Leon and the horse-headed lady became direct clinical companions.

"Moo (Miss Horace)"

Gently nudging the suspended small basket bed above him, moving the three dozing oxpecker patients with it to the other end of the rail, Leon maintained his prior bovine persona and sat up, courteously inquiring toward his neighboring bed's horse-headed lady:

"Moo moo moo moo (I've almost recovered and plan to leave tomorrow, heading to the Nursing Nest based on Doctor Oroya's advice. May I ask you...)"

"Neigh (About the same)"

"Moo? (Does that mean your body has healed?)"

"Neigh (Yes)"

"Moo moo! (Oh, well that's good news for you!)"

Seemingly unaware of the horse-headed lady's distant and chilly words, Leon, determined to cling to her, cheerfully continued the chat:

"Moo moo moo? (Since we're so fated, how about traveling together for mutual care?)"

"Neigh (Inconvenient)"

"Moo... moo... (Oh... alright then...)"

Listening to the regretful mooing on the other side of the Holy Light curtain, the horse-headed lady shut her horse eyes, deeply regretting ever engaging with this bold bull-man.

Despite retracting her released allure against him and coldly responding, this lustful bull, every time he saw her... more precisely, her rear, would shamelessly return and pester.

Damn it! I'm a horse; you're a bull! Such a big difference in species doesn't bother you? Even if you were a donkey, really?