Chapter 1112 - 76 COI

In Mr. K's temporary apartment in Port Santa,

Lumian unpacked the remaining spoils of war from his Traveler's Bag, placing them on the coffee table.

He shot a glance at Mr. K, who, now adorned in a black robe with a deep hood, spoke first, "These are the gains from the operation. Perhaps there's a revelation from the Lord among them."

Mr. K nodded subtly, diverting his attention to the items, his gaze fixating on the dark-gold mask.

In a deep, hoarse voice, he mused, "I sense something special about it. This should be a revelation from the Lord."

With a swift motion, Mr. K extended his right hand, pulling the strange dark-

gold mask into his grasp amidst a sudden gust of wind.

However, the Aurora Order Oracle didn't put the mask on; instead, he discreetly stowed it away in a hidden pocket within his black robe.

Witnessing this, Lumian was momentarily taken aback.

He had been contemplating how to subtly carry out Madam Magician's instructions, aiming to inquire if Mr. K desired the dark-gold mask. Surprisingly, he had spontaneously fabricated a Lord-given revelation as an excuse. Before Lumian could specify which item it was, Mr. K had chosen the dark-gold mask himself.

Could it genuinely be a revelation from the Lord? Hiss… Lumian took a deep breath.

Had Madam Magician sent me to ask Mr. K because she foresaw something or glimpsed something?

These high-ranking figures always prefer to communicate through hints and revelations. Couldn't they be more direct?

Amidst his thoughts, Lumian stowed away the remaining items and earnestly addressed Mr. K,

"I didn't expect the matter to escalate like this. I initially believed that with you and my sister's friends from her past, it would suffice to seek vengeance. Yet, it spiraled into something of a much higher magnitude. Thankfully, my sister's allies were vigilant and leveraged their connections."

The sincerity in the first half of Lumian's statement contrasted with the second half, which explained the influx of demigods, even Angel-level forces, this time. He subtly shifted the blame to Franca and Aurore's associates.

Lumian sensed a high likelihood that Mr. K might not fully buy into his explanation. Disregarding the possibility of the Aurora Order's Oracle Grazing a relatively high Sequence Spectator, Lumian believed that the intentional arrangements and subtle traces left behind by the entity he believed in were sufficient evidence of constant watching, listening, and awareness. As for Sequence 8 of the Shepherd pathway, known as Listeners, they often received revelations from that figure.

Nevertheless, Lumian needed a plausible excuse. He couldn't just tell Mr. K outright, "Yes, I am a member of the Aurora Order, part of the Tarot Club, and also affiliated with the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society. My Major Arcana card holder is an Angel, and I know countless demigods who can lend a hand. Besides worshiping your Lord, I also believe in Mr. Fool. Occasionally, I praise the Sun and say By Steam…"

Wasn't this equivalent to provoking him in his face?

Unspoken truths didn't always need to be voiced.

Mr. K subtly nodded.

"Good job. Dealing with matters involving evil gods demands all your strength."

Then, he added, "After learning that your adversary is tied to an ancient evil god, I've already reported it to the higher-ups. At that time, our Aurora Order's Angels were likely keeping an eye. If anything truly occurred, one or more would have definitely descended."

"…" Lumian's expression froze.

Did the Aurora Order's Angel also observe the spaceship back then?

Isn't this setup too exaggerated? April Fool's isn't even an organization with a single demigod!

Is Celestial Worthy such a taboo when it comes to Madam Magician and the Aurora Order?

It's understandable for the Tarot Club to give it significance, especially considering its connection to Mr. Fool's awakening. But why does the Aurora Order behave as if they're confronting a formidable adversary…

Lumian pushed aside the issue of inviting an Angel and four demigods for his revenge. He couldn't help but sigh at the Aurora Order's exaggerated reaction.

Mr. K fixed his gaze on his subordinate and delivered a passionate lecture, "Just because high-ranking individuals are keeping an eye on us doesn't mean we can be lax and handle things half-heartedly. These individuals have numerous crucial matters to attend to. They might only cast an occasional glance our way. If we don't put in enough effort and work diligently, it could easily lead to complete failure. And in that scenario, death won't be sufficient to atone for our sins."

"Yes, yes, you're right," Lumian echoed Mr. K without any intention of arguing.

…

Upon returning to Loki's rented apartment, Lumian gathered the remaining five spoils of war and grinned at Franca, Jenna, and Anthony.

"It's finally our turn to choose."

Not wanting to tease the eager Franca any further, Lumian pointed to the dining table where the items were laid out.

"Take your pick first."

"Hehe." Franca smiled sheepishly, shamelessly picking up the Seven-Stone Bracelet. She exclaimed excitedly, "I can teleport too!"

"Aren't you afraid of overhearing something you shouldn't?" Lumian teased.

Franca had already considered this issue.

"It's not like I'll wear it forever. I'll only use it when I need it. And teleportation takes only a short time. If I really hear an unknown voice, the impact will be minimal. I should be fine if I remove it in time.

"Don't worry. The negative effects of Beyonder items similar to charms aren't strong. They can even be considered weak."

Lumian scoffed dismissively.

"Have you forgotten what you have on you?

"Primordial Demoness figurine! Mirror World Fragment!"

What if she heard the Primordial Demoness's ravings?

Franca cleared her throat and said, "I'm now a member of the Demoness Sect and a believer in the Primordial Demoness. What's wrong with listening to the voice of God? At most, it'll make me excited. When the time comes, heh heh…"

She glanced at Lumian and Jenna, keeping her thoughts to herself.

"I'll get your help!"

Franca immediately added, "Furthermore, my Primordial Demoness figurine and the Mirror World Fragment are stored in the Traveler's Bag. They won't be taken out unless absolutely necessary. It's as if they're sealed."

Lumian remained silent. He turned to Jenna and Anthony, asking, "Which one of you wants to go first?"

"Anthony. He played a more significant role than me this time," Jenna replied politely.

Anthony smiled.

"Are you disregarding me as an Intisian man? I still believe in 'lady's first.'"

Considering Jenna's usual Showy Diva demeanor, she might have typically responded with something like, "Those Intisian men who claim 'lady's first' only want to get them in bed. Are you having such thoughts about me too?"

Jenna, despite her lack of overt actions, had a knack for teasing in a crude manner.

However, at this moment, after exchanging glances with Lumian and Franca, she turned to Anthony with sincerity.

"I'm in a dilemma. I want you to help me eliminate an option."

Anthony didn't decline and assessed the remaining four items.

"The Blood Gold ring enhances my survivability and strengthens my direct attacks. However, whether it's dependency or madness, it's something a Psychiatrist should avoid. Furthermore, I'm now a Hypnotist. I can use Psychological Invisibility and have the protection of Dragon Scales.

"Apart from underwater mobility, this brooch can only be used in close combat. Why would a Hypnotist like me engage in close combat?

"The Dream Stealer Beyonder characteristics and blank painting album aren't bad. If the former is crafted into a mystical item with weak negative effects, it should be very useful. However, that's not a certainty for the moment unless I find a very good Artisan…"

Anthony decided on the blank painting album.

"As an information broker, I'm adept at sketching. Such an item that can create different effects is very suitable for a Hypnotist to observe first before taking action."

Without needing Madam Magician's explanation, Franca had already used Magic Mirror Divination to confirm the function of the blank painting album: "The objects drawn on it might become alive and stay so for a short period of time. They might also have different effects. The painting paper will lose its mystical effects after being used once. The negative effect is never to respond to the knocks coming from the painting paper."

Lumian and Jenna agreed that it was very similar to the abilities of Pixies.

After Anthony stored the painting paper, Jenna seized the Dream Stealer Beyonder characteristic without hesitation.

"Why?" Lumian inquired with amusement.

Jenna looked at him and grinned happily.

"It's the most valuable! Among the remaining three items, only it corresponds to a Sequence 5. Even if it fails to become a mystical item, it can be sold for a large sum of money."

I still owe Franca 45,000 verl d'or. In the future, I might even purchase the Demoness of Pleasure potion formula from her.

"An excellent reason." Lumian casually glanced at the remaining two items and placed the grayish-white lightning-shaped brooch on his chest. "I want this. In the future, call it the Fury of the Sea."

He chose the brooch over Blood Gold because, as an Ascetic, he could bear impatience and other emotions. Pure madness was too dangerous for him, given the darkness in his heart.

Lumian tossed the Blood Gold ring to Franca.

"Put it in your Traveler's Bag. Anyone can use it whenever needed. It shouldn't be used often."

"You won't give it to Madam Magician?" Franca asked in puzzlement.

"Do you think she'll take a fancy to it?" Lumian stuffed the Fury of the Sea into his Traveler's Bag and chuckled. "Her spoils of war are naturally the humanoid Sealed Artifact, but she might return it to the Eternal Blazing Sun Church."

With that, Lumian turned to Franca, Jenna, and Anthony, "Next, I'm going to do something unsuitable for others to see. Do you want to watch?"

-x-X-x-

Franca's curiosity was piqued by Lumian's words.

"Is there anything we can't see?"

"Are you sure you want to watch? I'm afraid it will deal a strong blow to your mind," Lumian asked in a teasing tone.

Amused, Franca pointed at herself and retorted, "Me? I'm not a minor. My mind is very mature. Why wouldn't I dare to look? Heh, I'm much more knowledgeable than you, boy!"

Jenna nodded in agreement, silently endorsing Franca's claim.

Without further persuasion, Lumian left the apartment and headed to the room he had rented with a fake ID to monitor himself.

Lugano was staying there with Ludwig.

Franca followed with Jenna and Anthony, muttering, "I thought it was something major. Isn't it just going to your godson? What impact on the mind…"

Lumian signaled for Lugano to retreat temporarily. Then, he retrieved two gruesome items from his Traveler's Bag, forming a humanoid figure with them.

Maintaining an unchanged expression, Lumian looked at Ludwig and pointed at the two parts of Mad Lady's corpse.

"Is it edible?"

Edible… Franca was taken aback.

Her gaze shifted between the repulsive corpse parts and Ludwig's boyish appearance. Suddenly, she felt a wave of nausea, as if her mind had been corrupted by the imagined scene.

Indeed, Lumian's godson gained knowledge or abilities by consuming specific creatures, including humans. Memory, after all, was a form of knowledge!

Franca couldn't suppress her urge to retch, regretting her decision to witness the cannibalistic act.

To make matters worse, she knew the person who had been consumed—Mad Lady. She had interacted with her before.

Jenna's face contorted, clearly struggling to contain her churning stomach acid. Anthony, a seasoned veteran accustomed to witnessing scenes of gore, subconsciously frowned.

Ludwig scrutinized the two bloody corpse parts in Lumian's hands for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

"It's too dirty."

Dirty? Could it be a reference to the severe corruption of the Celestial Worthy? Even you won't dare to swallow it for fear of something happening? Lumian threw Mad Lady's two corpse parts to the ground with regret, summoning a crimson fireball that was nearly white.

Rather than exploding, the fireball adhered to Mad Lady's corpse, burning and compressing it into charred dust.

Amidst the dancing flames and the burning fragrance, Franca and Jenna breathed a sigh of relief.

Lumian pulled up a chair and sat down, addressing Ludwig, who was nonchalantly nibbling on a cupcake, "Wasn't that person's arm dirty?"

He was referring to Loki.

"Just a little. The dirtiest part isn't on the arm," Ludwig commented casually, as if discussing which fish were poisonous and how they should be consumed.

Only then did Lumian get to the point.

"What did you gain from that person's arm?"

"Some knowledge," Ludwig replied, nonchalantly nibbling on a sponge cake covered in light cream, as if he preferred not to be disturbed while eating.

Lumian, feigning indifference, asked bluntly, "What are they?"

Ludwig's voice alternated between clarity and muffled tones as he replied, "Sequence Knowledge about his pathway… There are two other terms… One is Dylan… and the other is Orville…"

Dylan? Is that the name of Loki's ancient castle? And what's Orville? Lumian's curiosity peaked, prompting him to interrupt Ludwig.

"Apart from the name itself, is there any relevant knowledge?"

Ludwig seized the opportunity to take another bite of cake. After chewing and swallowing, he said, "No, but… these two terms seem to be connected. Orville should be the name of a place, and Dylan is the castle's name."

Connected… Name of a place… Castle Dylan is in Orville? Where is Orville? Lumian turned to Franca, Jenna, and Anthony, realizing they were clueless, shaking their heads in ignorance.

After a moment of contemplation, Lumian spoke in a deep voice,

"Our next priority is to find information about Orville and Dylan through our respective channels."

Getting nods of agreement from Franca and the others, Lumian asked Ludwig again, "Anything else?"

"His spirituality is quite abundant, and his quality isn't bad. He doesn't like hard liquor or drinking freely. He only drinks champagne and occasionally has coffee. He's a loyal advocate of tea leaves. He's healthy, has good bowel movement, and urinates normally. He hates the smell of the washroom…" Ludwig shared the information obtained from the half arm.

Franca listened with keen interest, and just as Lumian was about to interject, Ludwig divulged another piece of valuable information:

"He owns Castle Dylan, but he doesn't reside there. He only returns occasionally. He's not the sole proprietor yet. Many areas there aren't accessible to him. Recently, he unlocked a room and acquired a dark-gold mask.

"That mask will grant him immense power, but once he wears it, he'll face terrifying matters."

Could that dark-gold mask be a relic from the original owner of Castle Dylan? Perhaps a memento from the previous leader of the Secret Order? Lumian nodded thoughtfully.

To him, this information wasn't particularly crucial as the dark-gold mask had already been handed over to Mr. K. Thus, he had no reason to be concerned about it.

Franca, Jenna, and Anthony prepared to return to Trier after the Q&A session with Ludwig, having confirmed that they had gleaned all they could.

Of course, Lumian took responsibility for their return journey. Franca couldn't bring herself to use one of the Seven-Stone Bracelets at the moment.

"By the way," Lumian looked at Franca, pondering for a moment. "Contact the Eternal Blazing Sun Church and see if they're willing to exchange information about the humanoid Sealed Artifact and its corresponding story. We'll make efforts to facilitate this transaction."

ention that he was uncertain about his human status, Lumian realized his resemblance to the humanoid Sealed Artifact. However, Bard retained his rationality and clarity, possessing a relatively independent fate. Otherwise, he could be deemed a walking Grade 0 humanoid Sealed Artifact. This sparked Lumian's curiosity about the humanoid Sealed Artifact, wanting to uncover what had happened to her and why she had transformed in such a manner.

Franca nodded and instinctively said, "But, uh, that lady only mentioned the possibility of returning it, nothing definite."

"We're merely striving to facilitate the transaction. It's not guaranteed either." Lumian chuckled.

He quickly sent Franca, Jenna, and Anthony back to Trier Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative before entering Aquina Street. Strolling among the citizens still immersed in the afterglow of the celebration, he made his way towards Solow Motel.

Half of the motel's fifth floor had collapsed, and the fourth floor was severely damaged. Otta, the owner, observed the scene with sorrow and helplessness. He wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come.

At a certain point, Noelia of the Fertility Order approached Louis Berry, the adventurer overseeing Solow Motel. She spoke in a formal tone, "Your partner said you'd be responsible for the compensation."

Lumian retrieved 10,000 gold risot from his Traveler's Bag and handed it to Noelia.

Noelia glanced at his black coin bag and sighed with emotion.

"That's good stuff."

The combat nun then counted the compensation.

"10,000 risot? That's enough to build two motels like this!"

"How generous. Just as expected from an adventurer who recently bagged a bounty of 300,000 gold risot."

Lumian brushed off Noelia's teasing and continued, "This is the reward from the Paco family's commission."

"The Paco family…" Noelia fell silent.

The Paco family's matriarch, the current family head, and his wife—all perished in this conflict.

Lumian pressed on, weaving through the crowd as if on a leisurely stroll.

In the dusk's afterglow, he heard singing, seabirds chirping, and citizens animatedly discussing the past few days.

"Did you see that? In the morning, seabirds came to pay their respects to the Governor of the Sea!

"Is this year's sea prayer ritual that successful?

"That's right. Back then, many vines grew crazily. Many people fainted from joy. This is Earth Mother's recognition of the sea prayer ritual!

"No, that's not right. It represents a bumper harvest. It means this year's fish harvest will fill ship after ship!

"Praise the Earth, praise the Mother of All Things!

"Praise the Governor of the Sea!

"…"

Though Lumian wasn't privy to the Church of Earth Mother's method to make citizens view the morning mysticism roundup as a miracle, he sensed joy and delight in everyone's hearts.

Leisurely, he thought, I wonder if the remaining committee members of the Fisheries Guild have finalized the choice for the fake Governor of the Sea. Sure, the real Simon Guiaro is the top contender. However, it doesn't matter who takes the role this year. The power leaked by the spaceship is now in my possession. In the next year or even two, there won't be frequent catastrophes in these waters. The sea creatures will reproduce faster thanks to the 'watering'…

Heh heh, from a certain perspective, I'm the true Governor of the Sea—for just a week…

In the midst of the lively parade and numerous street vendors, Lumian casually located a bar and ordered an undiluted Manzan and a large cup of locally brewed dark-gold malt beer.

Placing the Manzan glass across from the small round table, he lifted his beer, clinking it. Then, he muttered with a smile, "Did you see that? Did you hear that? Their dance, their singing, and the sound of fish multiplying.

"Isn't this the future you desire?"

With that said, Lumian downed a mouthful of dark-gold beer.

-x-X-x-

The night draped the land in darkness, and stars adorned the sky above Port Santa. The festive crowd had dispersed, leaving behind the remnants of celebration—discarded litter and the lingering scent of alcohol.

With the official end of the holiday, the city would soon buzz with work again.

Lumian lingered at the bar until closing time. As he stepped out, the deserted streets welcomed him, illuminated only by sporadic gas lamps.

The late-night air hinted at the approaching winter's chill. Lumian breathed it in, feeling the crisp freshness entering his lungs. The rhythmic crash of waves against the shore added to the night's serenity.

In seemingly high spirits, Lumian, slightly tipsy, walked past the aftermath of the celebration with hands in his pockets, unnoticed in the silent surroundings.

He made his way back to the room rented under a false identity.

Upon opening the door, he found Lugano pacing anxiously in the living room.

"Still up?" Lumian raised an eyebrow.

Lugano, looking like he'd recovered from a serious injury, spoke with a complex expression,

"An hour ago, Captain Noelia of the combat nuns paid you a visit. Not in armor, but a stunning dress. She has quite the figure…"

"And then?" Lumian inquired, a smirk on his face.

Lugano replied with envy, "She left disappointed when I told her you weren't around."

Lumian chuckled, "What's it got to do with you? Why are you still awake after an hour?"

Lugano coughed awkwardly, "I had a sudden contemplation about my future. Should I return to Trier and pursue a medical career, or should I opt for a different path?"

Ignoring the Doctor's musings, Lumian, with a smile, washed up briefly and retired to his room, succumbing to sleep.

In his dreams, recent events blended into a chaotic tapestry, weaving stranger and more bizarre stories.

At precisely 6 a.m., Lumian awoke and promptly sat up.

His thoughts sharpened as he recalled the dream. Suddenly, a detail struck him:

Disregarding the possibility of the Aurora Order having covertly observed the situation, the crucial aspect of the sea prayer ritual was Amon's utilization of the altar in Milo Village to discreetly imbue Lie with a "Steal" ability.

Without this intervention, the opening of the spaceship's energy passageway would have led to a reversal. Deprived of the sea's power, he couldn't have ensnared Mad Lady with the authority of the Governor of the Sea, delaying her until Madam Magician's arrival.

However, Celestial Worthy, positioned at the pinnacle of the Seer, Apprentice, and Marauder pathways, should possess an in-depth understanding of Marauder abilities. It seemed unlikely that He hadn't considered the possibility of an Amon hiding at the altar, granting "Steal" powers.

It made sense that He hadn't shared this knowledge with April Fool's; they were expendable tools, and excessive information might weaken their resolve during the operation. But the overall plan shouldn't have crumbled due to this.

Were Celestial Worthy's intentions more intricate than they seemed? Had He secretly achieved a goal, or did Amon and His unseen ally orchestrate events in advance?

Had Amon truly kept watch over the altar in Milo Village without pause, last year's sea prayer ritual might not have failed. There remains the prospect that He wanted to derive amusement from April Fool's antics.

The chaos wrought by April Fool's last year was perhaps understandable. Shouldn't the most straightforward approach this year involve discreetly allowing the completion of the Ring of the Sea Queen during the ancestor honoring ritual? Subsequently, events could unfold with Ultraman assuming the guise of the incoming Governor of the Sea, only to be dumbfounded when the sea sacrifice ritual succeeded!

Why the convoluted path? What was the purpose behind these seemingly unnecessary steps?

There must be something I'm missing…

Lumian massaged his temples and rose from the bed.

The revelation didn't surprise him. It would be abnormal if he quickly unraveled the true motives of every participant in such complex scenarios involving high-level entities.

Regardless, his goal was accomplished, and the perilous black hole in the spaceship remained sealed. The rest was not his concern. If he could decipher it, great. If not, he could always write to Madam Magician to provide a timely reminder.

After a jog around the still-slumbering Port Santa, Lumian penned a letter to Madam Magician, detailing his reflections.

As Lumian finished, Lugano, who had been out gathering breakfast for Ludwig, returned to his quarters.

Taking a moment to contemplate, Lumian handed over 1,000 gold risot to Lugano. With a composed tone, he stated, "I'll be away for a few days. Take care of Ludwig. When I return, this commission will be completely over."

When the time came, Lumian planned on taking a boat to the Southern Continent. Lumian intended to conspire and make preparations along the way. His aim was to be ready for the final conspiracy and advance to Sequence 5 upon reaching his destination in the Southern Continent.

Without prying into his employer's destination, Lugano nervously asked, "W-

will there be any danger in the next few days?"

"It's done," Lumian replied with a smile. "If any other danger arises, go to the Fertility Order and seek protection. Isn't that what you've been anticipating?"

Lugano grinned sheepishly, reassured by Lumian's demeanor.

Under the shining sun of Port Santa, with delicious food and passionate women, staying a few more days seemed like a pleasant prospect!

…

A two-story relay carriage raced through the village towns scattered across turquoise pastures, making its way towards the base of the Pyraez mountain range.

Maintaining his disguise as the adventurer Louis Berry, Lumian occupied a window seat in the carriage, silently observing the passing scenery.

Each turquoise pasture was adorned with flocks of sheep, resembling scattered clouds. Shepherds, clad in practical and mobile robes, strolled amidst the grazing animals.

Some had their own shacks, while others utilized small, wheeled shepherd's huts for mobility.

Occasionally, local villagers attempted to drive away the incoming shepherds, only to be met with sly smiles or placated with money and supplies.

Faced with determined locals, the shepherds, arriving from the mountain pass, reluctantly moved to more desolate areas, contending with the watchful eyes of wild wolves and other creatures…

The scenes spoken of by the Cordu shepherds presented themselves vividly to Lumian, searing a memory in his mind.

Two days later, the relay carriage halted at the foot of the Pyraez mountain range, pausing in a small town outside the mountain pass.

Lumian changed into a black tweed coat, preparing to venture into the mountain alone.

As he ascended the mountain ridge, the cold wind intensified, rendering the wilderness almost devoid of life.

Navigating the sparsely vegetated mountainous terrain, Lumian followed the trails left by shepherds and merchants. Under the birdless gray sky, the desolate landscape featured withered trees and a meager stream. Winter's solitude permeated the air.

In the cold solitude, it took him nearly three days to traverse the Dariège mountain range and reach the river outside Cordu.

Circling the towering forest, Lumian promptly spotted the blood-colored pillar, emanating the aura of a mountain peak despite its modest height.

As Lumian gazed, footsteps approached from ahead.

A middle-aged man, clad in a leather coat and clasping his hands together, appeared.

Trembling in the cold wind, the forest ranger shouted, "Don't go any further. That village is gone!"

Lumian's eyes moved beyond the ranger to the collapsed and burned structures in the distance.

After a brief pause, he inquired in a deep voice, "What happened to that village?"

The forest ranger glanced around and lowered his voice, "They said they believed in demons. The villagers went crazy, burned down their houses, and walked into the abyss.

"Look, would a normal village be like this?"

Lumian fell silent for a long time.

Seeing this, the forest ranger sincerely said, "In any case, those old men instructed me to prevent anyone from entering this village. They said that it's bad luck; it would provoke the demons."

Lumian remained silent, refraining from further inquiry.

Staring at the unfamiliar yet oddly familiar ruins, he turned away from the village entrance. Step by step, he approached the nearest alpine pasture, the wind howling around him.

The grass here had completely withered, blown away by the wind, leaving behind barren patches of brown soil.

Lumian surveyed the ruins of Cordu, then located a shack abandoned by the shepherds. Inside, he lay down, closing his eyes and remaining motionless.

If only everything that had transpired before could be dismissed as a dream.

When he woke, the alpine pasture was vibrant green once more, birds returned to the sky, and Ol' Tavern bustled with farmers and herdsmen. His sister persistently urged him to study, while Reimund, Ava, and the others pondered uncertain futures, unaware of the life awaiting them…

…

The sun shone brightly, yet the air in Port Santa had begun to carry a chill.

Abruptly, Lumian stood before Lugano and Ludwig.

"You're finally back!" Lugano exclaimed, relief evident in his voice, as if he had encountered a savior.

Ludwig's appetite had surged once more, and the 1,000 risot had disappeared faster than anticipated.

Another week, and Lugano would have to contemplate using his own funds.

He couldn't allow the child to go hungry; he might resort to eating him!

Lumian chuckled in response, saying, "The commission is over. I'll pay the balance now. Do you want my help to teleport back to Trier, or do you prefer taking a boat yourself or crossing the Dariège mountain range?"

Lugano fell silent, seemingly grappling with a decision.

-x-X-x-

Lumian didn't hurry Lugano. He preferred to observe the Doctor's decision-

making.

After a pause, Lugano gathered his courage and inquired, "Will you be bringing Ludwig along in the future?"

"Of course," Lumian replied, glancing sideways at Ludwig, who was devouring a roasted octopus.

Had he not received the 0-01 information from the Church of Knowledge, he wouldn't have considered keeping such a child around. However, Ludwig had proven his usefulness.

In the future, he might serve as another Loki trap.

Lugano swallowed and offered, "I can assist you in caring for Ludwig, so you won't need to factor him in when dealing with matters—unlike how you could simply leave whenever you pleased in the past."

As anticipated… Lumian wasn't taken aback by Lugano's proposal.

He raised his chin slightly and inquired, "Reason?"

Lugano smiled sheepishly and explained, "During this journey, I've witnessed much and faced attacks. It made me realize that Sequence 8s are still insignificant in the mysticism world. They're ill-equipped to handle risks. Yes, if I return to Trier and discreetly wield my Doctor powers, I'll undoubtedly attain middle-class status. It's not inconceivable to ascend to high society, but I fear that garnering too much fame will draw the attention of official Beyonders. Trier isn't as lenient as Port Santa, which is more accommodating to wild Beyonders.

"Furthermore, those dangerous Beyonders are always lurking around us. I refuse to be defenseless the next time I'm targeted."

"If you refrain from participating in mysticism gatherings and solely run a clinic as a doctor, you wouldn't be entangled in dangerous affairs. You could easily handle ordinary thieves and bandits," Lumian countered nonchalantly.

Lugano shook his head.

"The Beyonder who left me his relics, enabling me to become a Planter, once warned me that once I enter the mysticism world, escape is impossible. Beyonder incidents will always surround us. If I'm fortunate, I might survive until natural death, but if I'm unlucky, I'll end up like him.

"At first, I didn't fully believe it, but the events of the past six months have increasingly convinced me of its truth. I did nothing, yet Rue Anarchie collapsed, and a peculiar tree sprouted. Before you hired me, I dreamed of becoming a figure in a painting, unable to return to reality. Upon waking up, I found myself wanted. This time, all I did was care for Ludwig, staying clear of any involvement, yet I was still senselessly attacked…"

Mm… Lumian's expression grew more peculiar as he listened.

I seem to be the common denominator in all your tales…

Yet, you persist in following me…

Is this another instance of Beyonders encountering mysticism incidents? You didn't encounter those incidents, but me…

Lugano continued,"I've also witnessed Beyonder powers like teleportation and tsunamis. Being just a Sequence 8 no longer satisfies me. I believe I'll find more opportunities by following you."

Lumian gazed at Lugano, unsure if someone had influenced him to insist on following or if Ludwig had somehow "tamed" him to be his "nanny."

Initially, Lumian thought Lugano, as a Beyonder of the Planter pathway, had ties to the Church of Earth Mother. However, despite paying close attention, he hadn't observed any additional communication between his guide and the Fertility Order or the Church of Earth Mother's clergyman. Furthermore, Lugano seemed like a stranger.

Seeing Lumian stay silent, Lugano smiled ingratiatingly and proposed, "I have a gift for languages. I can self-learn Dutanese from the Southern Continent. As long as you pay me 300 verl d'or a month and promise me a share of the spoils, I can continue to be your guide, private doctor, child caregiver, and be half a fighter."

"Sure." Lumian handed over a total of 10,000 verl d'or. "This is the final 5,000 verl d'or from before. Additionally, you were attacked. As per our agreement, I'll pay you an extra 5,000 verl d'or, making it a total of 10,000."

Lugano gladly accepted the payment and began packing.

Lumian seized the moment to count his cash, confirming he still possessed 1,000 verl d'or in gold, 76,000 verl d'or in gold coins, along with other coins, banknotes, and the remaining 2,000 gold risot yet to be spent.

As long as he refrained from acquiring Beyonder characteristics, potion formulas, mystical items, or high-end mysticism knowledge, the money he carried could sustain him for a considerable time.

The following morning, Lumian boarded the ship bound for Feynapotter, adopting the guise of the adventurer Louis Berry. Approaching the first-class suite, he turned to Ludwig, posing a thoughtful question, "In your memories, or rather, Loki's memories, are there any peculiar creatures? They resemble lizards but are quite small. They can crawl into a human's mouth, appearing transparent and blurry, suspected to be Spirit Body. They have brownish-

green scales and dark-green eyes."

This description deviated significantly from the Starlight Lizards transformed by the Children of the Sea.

Ludwig shook his head.

"No, it's not in the Batings Black Insect's memories either."

Lumian fell silent, observing Lugano as he opened the suite door with the mannerisms of a servant.

Another hour passed, and amidst a whistle, the ship departed Port Santa.

After nearly two hours of sailing, the weather gradually worsened. The waves surged, and the strong winds compelled passengers on the deck to retreat to their cabins.

Observing the dusky sky, the dark clouds stirred by the wind, and the rising waves, many passengers, sailing for the first time, felt a sense of anxiety.

Noticing the confidence of the sailors beside them, they sought reassurance, "This is a common occurrence at sea. It's not dangerous, right?"

A Port Santa native, working as a sailor, replied with a smile, "It's relatively common, but it can be a bit dangerous. If the storm intensifies, we might need to seek shelter in a nearby port. But don't worry. This year's sea prayer ritual was a success. The current Governor of the Sea will protect us and prevent any shipwrecks!"

Governor of the Sea… The passengers became even more uneasy upon hearing the sailor's response.

They had taken part in various sea prayer rituals and celebrations in Port Santa. While enjoyable, they didn't truly believe that the Governor of the Sea could exert any significant influence on the waves.

Amidst their unease, they were astonished to find that the rising waves suddenly subsided.

Despite the dark clouds and strong winds, the seawater seemed to be pressed down by an invisible force, showing no noticeable fluctuations.

The Port Santa natives erupted in cheers.

"Long live the Governor! Praise the Governor of the Sea!"

Witnessing this, the passengers exchanged glances, momentarily speechless.

In the first-class suite, Lumian relaxed in a recliner, sipping undiluted Manzan. On his lap lay a Southern Continent Dutanese introductory textbook.

Clenching his right hand into a fist, he pulled it downward.

A section of the dark clouds in the sky descended, forming a formidable funnel.

Sunlight penetrated the massive hole, brightening the cabin and highlighting Lumian's book.

Retracting his right hand, Lumian flipped through a page of the book. He found the Governor of the Sea's abilities truly advantageous at sea.

Unfortunately, he could only use it for one more day.

…

Late at night in Trier, Angoulême returned to his residence and habitually switched on the radio transceiver.

Before long, a telegram arrived.

Upon seeing "Hidden Blade," Angoulême frowned.

"Two bits of good news and a spot of bad news. Which one do you want first?

"I know. You must want to hear the good news first. I'll get straight to it.

"The first piece of good news is that the humanoid Sealed Artifact has been located and secured. You don't have to worry about the business trip to Feynapotter. You can focus on investigating the Mirror People matter in peace.

"The second piece of good news is that after communication, we've confirmed that the faction controlling the humanoid Sealed Artifact might return it to you. We're willing to facilitate the matter, but you'll need to provide all the information about the humanoid Sealed Artifact in exchange. Of course, it's just a possibility, nothing set in stone. You won't need to make a substantial payment until we reach an agreement.

"Bad news. Heh heh, there's a traitor in your Church. The humanoid Sealed Artifact was lost because of a mole! We're certain of this.

"Go, 007. Your chance to render meritorious service has arrived!"

After reading it in one go, Angoulême felt a sense of relief. This was because after the humanoid Sealed Artifact was lost, the Church's upper echelons suspected a traitor and conducted an investigation, but to no avail. There was indeed an issue with the case leading to the loss of the humanoid Sealed Artifact, but the five Purifiers in charge of that case had been cleared of any wrongdoing during the investigation. They hadn't performed well back then and had merely encountered an accident.

It seems that the mole has concealed himself well… Angoulême muttered to himself.

…

Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative, Apartment 702, 9 Rue Orosai.

Franca sat by the bed and chatted in the telegram group, waiting for Jenna to return.

Her female companion would visit the Quartier de la Maison d'Opéra once a week to watch a theater performance and only return at midnight. However, the exact day she went was uncertain. Furthermore, she would disguise herself to prevent others from noticing her travel patterns.

Anthony, who lived nearby, had been busy infiltrating a circle of psychology enthusiasts, hoping to come into contact with a true Psychiatrist.

I seem to be the only one with time on my hands. I haven't received any feedback about Mirror People… Franca wasn't the kind of person who insisted on having something on her hands. She excelled in finding joy in life.

While Franca thought about Jenna, Jenna—who had just finished watching the last play—put on a hat with a black veil and stood up to leave the theater, where many spectators were still lingering.

At the exit, she patiently queued up and moved out.

Suddenly, Jenna sensed a slight tremor from one of the items on her.

Instinctively, she reached in and realized that it was the Mirror World Fragment from the Tamara family's tomb.

-x-X-x-

Has something happened to the Mirror World Fragment? Jenna was taken aback for a moment before she tensed up.

This was unprecedented. The Mirror World Fragment had never exhibited such behavior before, leaving Jenna puzzled as to its sudden activity. Her mind raced, attempting to decipher its significance.

Could there be a disturbance in the special Mirror World itself?

Or perhaps someone in close proximity to me is closely involved with the special Mirror World?

Could this be a lead in Franca's Mirror People investigations?

Jenna's instincts urged her to scan her surroundings, searching for the source of the Mirror World Fragment's disturbance.

Jenna controlled herself just in time as a realization hit her: If this phenomenon was caused by someone closely tied to the special Mirror World, there was a high chance that the "sensation" was mutual. In simpler terms, while the fragment trembled slightly, there should be some anomaly on the person's body, detectable only by themselves. They, too, were searching for the source of the problem.

Under such circumstances, hastily surveying her surroundings might lead to discovery by the other party. A thunderous strike might follow.

Maintaining her composure, Jenna slowly moved out the door, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

During this process, like many spectators, she turned her head slightly and glanced at the wall clock in the theater's foyer to confirm the time: 11:05 p.m.

After noting the time, Jenna returned to the foyer through the exit.

The spectators around her dispersed, and the place gradually became less crowded.

Jenna's Mirror World Fragment fell silent, no longer trembling abnormally.

Just now, there was no one in the foyer, and the Mirror World Fragment didn't tremble when I watched the theater performance… This means that for the abnormality to happen, both parties need to be close to each other, no more than five meters apart, like when we were squeezing for the exit in the foyer. Now, is everything back to normal because the distance between them has widened again? Jenna's thoughts raced as she fully displayed her theatrical acting skills. Like ordinary spectators, she left the foyer and arrived on the street. She boarded a rental carriage belonging to the Imperial Carriage Company and paid 2.5 verl d'or in advance, her heart aching.

If the subway and public carriages were still running at this hour, she wouldn't have taken a rental carriage back to Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative from Quartier de la Maison d'Opéra.

…

Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative, Apartment 702, 9 Rue Orosai.

Jenna recounted her encounter to Franca and asked, "Did the Mirror World Fragment on you tremble slightly around 11:05?"

"No," Franca replied with unusual certainty.

Without waiting for Jenna to make a judgment, she smiled awkwardly and quickly added, "I don't think so. As you know, my Mirror World Fragment is stored in my Traveler's Bag. Even if there's a tremor, I can't sense it."

As Jenna couldn't help but roll her eyes, Franca tersely acknowledged and said,"Do you suspect that the abnormality in the special Mirror World caused a general change? If that's the case, even if the item is in the Traveler's Bag, I should be able to sense it spiritually. It's impossible to completely ignore it."

"Besides, when we put these two fragments together, there's never been a tremor. The probability of me encountering a Mirror People is very high. Or is it a member of a specific branch of the Tamara family?" Jenna said as she walked to the full-body mirror in the living room. She stroked the surface and whispered the secret subject she wanted to inquire about.

The full-body mirror's surface quickly darkened, surging with illusory water waves.

Jenna began Magic Mirror Divination.

"At approximately 23:05 last night, the area within a ten-meter radius of me…

"At approximately 23:05 last night, the area within a ten-meter radius of me…

"…"

After repeating it three times, the deep, dark mirror lit up.

In the light, Jenna saw herself in a bonnet, the theater exit connected to the theater foyer, and the audience and attendants standing within ten meters of her.

The spirit world faithfully recorded all this information.

The reflection in the mirror held a dynamic quality, not static or rigid. Jenna swiftly observed a woman standing a few meters ahead, abruptly turning to survey the people around her.

Donned in a black veiled hat, the lady, seemingly in her thirties, sported light eyebrows, bright yellowish eyes, and a white complexion from makeup. While not conventionally beautiful, she exuded elegance through her well-chosen attire.

Despite her refined appearance, the lady appeared to lose her composure, scanning the surroundings as if searching for a lost lover.

"There's something off about her. She reacted to the Mirror World Fragment," Franca remarked as she joined Jenna, analyzing the image in the full-body mirror. "But it's been over an hour, and she hasn't initiated any counter-divination. Is she careless or utterly unfamiliar with the process?"

Jenna nodded.

"Can you discern anything else?"

"Nothing more." Franca suddenly slapped her forehead. "Gosh, we should've asked Anthony to take a look. A Spectator would surely glean more information."

"You're right…" Jenna was caught off guard.

They still weren't used to seeking Anthony's assistance.

Jenna suggested, "Let's get Anthony tomorrow morning. Calling him over this late might lead to misunderstandings. Besides, it's not an urgent matter."

"Yes, he might get the wrong idea," Franca quickly realized.

The next morning, after observing the scene through the Magic Mirror Divination, Anthony pondered and commented, "Her clothes were custom-

made, suggesting a well-off family background… Despite looking a bit lost after surveying the surroundings, she may lack knowledge about the Mirror World and its corresponding fragments. This contradicts her ability to make the Mirror World Fragment tremble. The answer often lies in the point of contradiction… Her walking style indicates good etiquette training, but her status at home isn't particularly high."

Franca couldn't help but twitch her lips as she listened to the newly advanced Hypnotist dissect the target layer by layer. It felt like she had no secrets left from him.

Spectators are truly terrifying!

On the other hand, Jenna listened attentively, finding similarities with character analysis in drama acting class but more concrete and detailed.

In a daze, she felt transported back to Théatre de l'Ancienne Cage à Pigeons, listening to her teacher's lecture.

"These characteristics won't help us locate her directly. They can only offer certain clues," Anthony concluded.

"Understood. Character profiling," Franca replied in a professional tone.

Anthony took out a piece of paper, picked up a pencil, and began sketching based on his impressions, intending to track her through various channels.

Casually, Franca asked, "How did you deduce that the lady's clothes were custom-made?"

Having once been a man and transformed into a woman with a potion, she remained fixated on the beauty of clothing and dresses. She didn't care about the store or tailor.

Jenna couldn't tell either, as before becoming a Witch, she hadn't reached the level to customize her clothes.

Anthony looked up at the two Demonesses.

"After becoming a Spectator, especially as an information broker, I've deliberately honed my observation skills. I recognize the materials and characteristics of most of Trier's ready-to-wear shops and the styles of many famous tailors. The lady's dress clearly doesn't come from any ready-to-wear shops."

Franca and Jenna revealed somewhat embarrassed expressions. Fortunately, Anthony was engrossed in his sketch and hadn't noticed their reactions.

…

Port Santa.

Nolfi, clad in a blouse and a light-colored jacket, escorted Batna to the dock.

Batna, sporting a half top hat, adjusted his rapier and cautiously inquired, "Are you really planning to stay here?"

Nolfi calmly responded, "I'm already a combat nun of the Fertility Order.

"It's just now dawning on me that the sea prayer ritual isn't about gaining power and making a pact with an evil god. It's about protection. It's an act of self-sacrifice.

"In the past, members of the Fisheries Guild used their influence and wealth to entice others into becoming the Governor of the Sea and Maidens of the Sea. Now, they've pledged to the Earth Mother's Church and the Fertility Order. Going forward, they'll inform potential candidates of the possible challenges and consequences beforehand, allowing them to make their own choices. I want to stay here and oversee this."

"That's good too." Batna sighed. "Unfortunately, my destiny lies in sea adventures, and I can't remain in one place."

The lovely and endearing Nolfi nodded.

"I understand."

She asked sincerely, "Do you wish to have a child here?"

"No, n-never mind," Batna stammered. "I'm not mentally prepared to be someone else's father."

He didn't want his child to turn into a humanoid lizard in the future.

Nolfi expressed regretfully, "Alright."

Waving her hand, she turned around and walked away from the dock.

After a few steps, she abruptly turned back, revealing a bright and beautiful smile.

"Regardless, I'm grateful that you could accompany me out to sea."

Without waiting for Batna's response, Nolfi redirected her gaze and hastened her pace, leaving the dock.

Batna stood there, Nolfi's final smile lingering in his mind. Her words of joy echoed in his ears, and he suddenly felt a sense of loss.

After Nolfi's figure vanished from the dock, the adventurer slowly boarded the ship returning to Port Farim.

…

In the evening, inside the ship's bar, Lumian raised a glass of amber sugar wine and addressed the patrons at the bar counter, "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm actually a magician. I can showcase an illusionary magic trick for you right now."

He gestured towards the window.

"Look outside."

Instinctively, the patrons glanced out the window and noticed that the surrounding waves had surged to a height of more than ten meters at some point, resembling a mountain.

Just as they blinked, the terror-inspiring scene disappeared once again.

Clap! Clap! Clap! The patrons applauded Lumian's brilliant magic trick.

-x-X-x-

Late at night, amidst another round of cheers for a magic trick, Lumian downed the candied wine in his hand and exited the bar with a smirk.

He could already picture Aurore—if she were around—scoffing, "You're so lame. You're actually using the Governor of the Sea's authority and power to pull off a magic trick. Deceiving those drunkards with the real thing. Is this your prank? You're sure having a blast."

Lumian responded silently, Being able to utilize superpowers and the Governor of the Sea's authority for such matters, rather than in battle, should be what you desire, right? Isn't this the joy and future you yearned for?

In the corridor, illuminated by kerosene wall lamps, Lumian stepped on the creaking floor, making his way back to the first-class suite in the silent, empty surroundings.

Snores and moans occasionally penetrated the walls on both sides. Near the stairs, a room stood open, reflecting the dim yellow light of the fire.

As Lumian passed by, he turned his head and observed the Sacred Emblem of Life, representing Earth Mother, engraved on the wall deep in the room. It portrayed a simple infant amidst wheat ears, flowers, spring water, and other symbols.

In front of the Sacred Emblem of Life stood a man in a brown clergyman's robe. He was less than 30 years old, with clean eyebrows and a light brown beard. Holding a thick book, he preached to the men and women seated in different parts of the room.

Lumian knew this was a prayer room, akin to a small, mobile cathedral with a dedicated clergyman in charge. Common in countries that believed in only one deity, be it on long-distance ships or steam locomotives, they considered the need for believers to quietly pray and listen to teachings.

Lumian, who could already understand Highlander, memorized the words, "Life's precious embrace, the harvest's grace." Retracting his gaze, he entered the corridor, ascending the stairs step by step.

Simultaneously, Lugano, having just finished attending to Ludwig's supper, heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Lugano was surprised and intrigued.

This couldn't be his employer. He possessed the key and would simply open the door.

Moreover, it was nearly 11 p.m. Who would visit at such an hour?

Could it be that a woman overheard my boasting on the deck, believed me, and came to share a pleasant night?

As Lugano started to indulge in fantasies, he heard a feeble male voice.

"I'm here to see Dr. Lugano."

Seeking a doctor… Lugano couldn't help but frown, but he still opened the door.

Outside stood a man wrapped in a thick tweed coat, a stark contrast to Lugano's linen shirt and thin pants.

Lugano scrutinized the visitor.

"I'm Lugano. What's the matter?"

The man's face was pale, his eyes dark, revealing little vitality. Though young, in his early twenties, he exuded a lifeless aura.

The man took a deep breath and weakly said, "You can call me Enio. I heard that you helped several people on the deck discover the true cause of their illness and quickly improved their condition. I want you to treat me.

"I have the money to pay for the consultation."

Observing the fellow's sickly appearance, Lugano sighed and replied, "Come in. Keep your voice down. As you know, I'm the private doctor of a prominent figure. He doesn't appreciate strangers disturbing him."

Once Enio settled on the sofa, Lugano, out of habit, inquired about his condition to conceal his subsequent mystical diagnosis.

"What's wrong with your body?"

Enio paused for a moment before saying, "Since half a month ago, I've become sensitive to the cold and weak. No appetite. Runny nose, repeated coughing, and my condition is worsening."

"Mm…" Lugano nodded, raising his right hand and tapping his forehead, as if contemplating the significance of the patient's narrative.

In reality, he seized the opportunity to activate his Spirit Vision, preparing to discern the other party's illness from the color, brightness, and thickness of his Ether Body.

With a swift glance, Lugano nearly jumped out of his skin.

Is the patient sitting in front of me still alive?

In Lugano's eyes, the once white glow shrouding Enio's Ether Body, signifying overall balance, had turned a somber grayish-black. It was a dire indication of his severe illness, teetering on the edge of death.

Yet, it wasn't this revelation that left Lugano shocked and bewildered. What truly sent shivers down his spine was: the orange glow, symbolizing the health of excretion, detoxification, and other vital organs, had dimmed into complete darkness. No vestige of brightness remained, signaling the complete cessation of their functions!

Likewise, the yellow hue representing the digestive system, the green indicating the heart and regulatory system, and the blue denoting the throat and part of the nervous system had all dulled and lost their radiance.

Enio's remaining hues were red on his limbs and purple on the surface of his head.

W-what does this "diagnosis" imply?

This meant that Enio was a person with a silent heart, a dormant stomach, and internal organs that had relinquished their functions. Yet, he could still think, move, and speak!

Son of a bitch, where did this monstrosity come from! Lugano, facing such an unprecedented "patient," inwardly cursed, his frame trembling slightly.

He dreaded the moment when the other might unexpectedly utter, "Doctor, I'm cold. Let me borrow your skin. Doctor, I'm hungry. Let me borrow your stomach and intestines…"

Noticing Lugano's silence, Enio anxiously inquired, "Doctor, what illness am I suffering from?"

Illness? Lugano muttered to himself urgently, Snap out of it! Your heart has ceased beating; the absence of flowing blood naturally brings about a chilling sensation!

Those with non-agitating stomachs certainly won't have much of an appetite!

As these thoughts raced through his mind, Lugano pondered for a moment and declared,

"Your condition is grave. I require further analysis and observation to draw conclusions. Can you visit me tomorrow morning?

"Before that, I need to draw some of your blood for research."

"No problem." Despite Enio's lack of confidence in Lugano, he extended his right hand with the mindset that attempting something was better than nothing.

Armed with the necessary tools, Lugano extracted some blood from Enio's body using a needle, rubber hose, and a glass blood collection bottle. Despite their darkened hue, he noted a basic vitality still present. Subsequently, he listened to Enio's heartbeat and detected faint, but existing, beats.

Curious… Lugano seized the opportunity of the consultation and prescription to subtly cast a faint light upon his palm, providing Enio with a simple treatment.

Enio's spirits lifted, and a semblance of strength returned.

"Thank you, Doctor. Your massage and medicine are effective. I appreciate it!" Enio left the suite with a cheerful expression.

None of the previous doctors he had consulted had made the slightest improvement in his condition. This time, he intended to set sail to the south, take a steam locomotive to the Church of Earth Mother's headquarters for treatment.

Baffled, Lugano observed as Enio left. Soon after, his employer returned.

He quickly recounted the encounter to Lumian, concluding with, "I've secured his blood. Can you find someone to divine the truth?"

"Divination?" Lumian chuckled as he received the blood-filled bottle and knocked on Ludwig's child's room.

"Take a sip and see what knowledge you can glean." Lumian handed the bottle to Ludwig, ensuring no avenue of exploitation slipped by.

Ludwig's expression remained stoic, as if sipping bedtime milk. He drank down the liquid in the bottle without flinching.

Lugano was bewildered, his eyes reflecting surprise and confusion.

After tasting the blood, Ludwig spoke at an adequate pace, "Absent stomach, absent small and large intestine, absent lungs, absent liver and pancreas…

"It's akin to a deceased person relying on mystic forces to persist…

"He won't last a week…"

Wh… Lugano was taken aback that Ludwig not only imbibed human blood but also made somber judgments with a straight face. He was also shocked to learn that Enio truly lacked those organs.

Initially, he believed it was just a loss of corresponding function.

According to Ludwig, wasn't Enio essentially a dead man?

What had he stumbled upon?

"What should we do?" Lugano turned to Lumian.

Lumian couldn't help but chuckle softly.

"What can we do? Locate the captain, the ship's security supervisor, or the priest in the prayer room, and report this matter. They'll handle it."

Lugano nodded and tentatively asked, "But won't this expose me as a Beyonder?"

"Tell them you're Louis Berry's servant," Lumian advised calmly.

"Alright." Lugano was fine with being a servant. After a moment's thought, he asked in puzzlement, "Did you hear any strange sounds at night? I occasionally hear a baby crying."

"Baby?" Lumian asked, shaking his head. "I didn't hear it."

Lugano pondered aloud, "Is there a baby crying on this floor?"

Then, he looked at Lumian.

"Shall I go find the captain now?"

Lumian's eyes flickered as he smiled and said, "Tomorrow morning."

"Alright," Lugano agreed without hesitation.

He preferred waiting for dawn and sunlight before addressing such a peculiar issue. Reporting it at night made him sense an impending, unexpected event.

The sun provided a reassuring sense of security!

Lumian didn't question or provide further advice. He entered his room, freshened up, and went to bed.

However, sleep eluded him. Instead, he half-closed his eyes, anticipating something.

After an indeterminate period, Lumian heard a faint creak.

The door to one of the rooms opened softly.

Lumian swiftly sat up, silently approaching the door, cracking it open.

He saw a figure leisurely walk out of Lugano's servant's room.

It was Lugano, clad in a linen shirt. His eyes were open but oddly vacant and unfocused, his face devoid of expression.

As if sleepwalking, Lugano made his way to the suite's door.

-x-X-x-

Lugano's eyes remained open as he swung open the door to the suite, his gaze vacant. He stepped into the deserted corridor, where only the sound of crashing waves reverberated.

In this moment, everyone, save for the sailor on night duty, succumbed to slumber.

Lugano moved forward, the kerosene wall lamps around him casting an ethereal glow that mingled with the encroaching darkness.

He reached the end of the floor and halted in front of a vivid vermilion wooden door.

Creak. The door groaned open, and the darkness within seemed to swallow every trace of light.

Lugano traversed the obscurity with a blank expression, entering the room. Behind him, the vermilion door was pulled shut by an imperceptible force.

It was a suite. The living and dining areas lay shrouded in darkness, devoid of any candlelit glow. The faint crimson moonlight filtered through the curtains, offering minimal visibility.

At the dining table stood two shadowy figures. One of them appeared aged, with mostly gray hair and dark, deep blue eyes that seemed to absorb the night.

Despite the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the elder's skin remained well-maintained, adorned in a loose, dark-black robe.

Beside him stood Enio, the brown-haired, brown-eyed patient who had intruded upon Lugano that night, his pale face devoid of life. His vacant gaze fixated on the unadorned table.

Lugano, as if sleepwalking, stood next to Enio, unusually quiet.

The elder in the loose black robe turned his head, fixing his gaze on Enio.

The patient ambled towards the dining table, climbed on it, and lay completely motionless.

The blond elder brandished a sharp scalpel, unfastening Enio's tweed coat, cashmere sweater, and cotton shirt. He pressed the razor-sharp blade against Enio's chest, producing a ripping sound as he sliced through layers of flesh, creating a long wound.

As Enio's chest and abdominal cavity lay exposed to the crimson moonlight, a void greeted the eye.

No stomach, no lungs, no small or large intestines, liver, or kidneys. Only a weakly beating bright red heart, accompanied by a few blood vessels extending from it.

With a swift motion, the old man in the dark-black robe manipulated the scalpel, his other hand flickering with a faint light as he pressed down.

In a sequence too rapid for the eye to follow, he withdrew the still-beating heart in his left hand.

Enio's chest and abdomen, now empty, displayed only a few non-bleeding blood vessels.

The old man closed the incision with a tight squeeze, sealing it with a flickering light.

Enio's stomach returned to its original state, devoid of any scars.

Throughout this extraordinary procedure, the special patient's eyes remained open, as if untouched by the surgical ordeal.

In that moment, he rolled off the dining table, ambled to the door, and exited the room.

The old man opened his suitcase, revealing glass jars containing pale amber liquid, each cradling various organs: spleen, lungs, liver, kidneys, stomach, and intestines…

Placing these items on the dining table in a peculiar order, surrounding the still gently beating scarlet heart, the old man in the loose black robe took a step back. He recited an ancient, malevolent, yet strangely intimate language.

As the unknown murmur resonated, the internal organs ascended slowly, upheld by an invisible force.

Their final positions varied, resembling the internal organs of a standing human.

The heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys emitted a faint glow simultaneously, outlining a form on the dining table. It lacked a head, limbs, or bones, merely a corporeal essence that grew more defined.

A baby's cry echoed, faint yet tangible.

However, the body distorted, squirmed, and disintegrated in the end.

The old man in the loose black robe sighed with regret.

Strangely, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were noticeably reduced, and much of his white hair had reverted to light gold.

In an instant, he appeared seven or eight years younger.

Sensing his good condition, the elder turned his attention to Lugano.

Lugano, seemingly summoned, approached the dining table and lay down, awaiting with open eyes.

The elder unbuttoned Lugano's linen shirt, took up the scalpel, and gestured as if deciding where to make the incision.

Suddenly, a loud bang reverberated.

The vermilion door swung open, crashing into the wall.

Crimson flames surged, illuminating the room, climbing the walls and ceiling, transforming the place into a fiery inferno.

Lumian, adorned in black hair, green eyes, a golden straw hat, a cotton shirt, a black vest, and dark pants, materialized at the door and entered the suite.

He calmly addressed the old man in the loose black robe, "Don't you know he's my servant?"

The elder's eyes narrowed as he readied the scalpel to descend towards Lugano's neck.

However, his right hand refused to budge, seemingly restrained by an invisible force pushing it upward.

In the midst of the rising crimson flames, Lumian paused, displaying no urgency to act. He spoke with intrigue,

"That surgery was quite fascinating—extracting internal organs while leaving the person alive, albeit gradually dying.

"And you used those organs for a ritual, rejuvenating yourself. Meanwhile, you nearly brought forth a peculiar lifeform."

Surprise flickered in the elder's dark-blue eyes.

"How do you know?"

Haven't you just arrived in pursuit of your servant?

And no one entered before you!

Lumian emitted a soft chuckle.

"You don't need to know."

I still have a few hours of Governor of the Sea authority. Isn't it easy to 'see' something in these waters?

Sensing Lumian's confidence, certainty, ease, and absence of hostility, the elder fell silent briefly before expressing, "Life is the most precious, so life becomes the finest sacrifice and ingredient."

He refrained from divulging details about the surgery or ritual, choosing instead to expound on his philosophy and the truth he sought.

Praising and blaspheming life simultaneously? Lumian arched his eyebrows, finding it vaguely reminiscent of Lady Moon, Madame Night, and the bestowed of the Great Mother.

Carefully assessing the black-robed elder behind the dining table, Lumian, upon confirming his gender, temporarily set aside his sudden anxiety.

Gazing down at the motionless Lugano on the dining table, Lumian casually inquired, "How did you control my servant?"

The elder fixed Lumian with a penetrating gaze, as if probing the depths of his intentions. He pondered, weighing the decision to preach the truth or engage in a confrontation to eradicate the issue.

After a brief silence, he spoke in a resonant voice,

"He's a Blessed of the Great Mother. He heard the cries of the Son of God."

Great Mother? Lumian's scalp tingled at the term.

Had it not been for the Sea Governor's authority, Lumian would have launched a full-scale attack without allowing the elder a moment to react or explain.

Regardless, even if he eliminated the elder, spirit channeling remained a viable option. Moreover, the elder could be fed to Ludwig!

Though taken aback by the elder's possible reference to Lugano as a Blessed of Earth Mother, Lumian swiftly dismissed the apparent meaning.

He was certain that Lugano was human and harbored no unusual bloodlines.

Following Lugano's injury at Solow Motel, Jenna collected his splattered blood and conducted Magic Mirror Divination according to Lumian's subsequent instructions.

In an instant, Lumian deciphered the elder's true meaning.

The Beyonders of the Planter pathway are all Blessed of the Great Mother?

Where does Earth Mother stand? Planter is the main pathway of the Church of Earth Mother…

Could it be… the Great Mother reigns over multiple pathways, akin to the Celestial Worthy and Mr. Fool? Planter and Sower? The names bear a striking connection…

As Lumian's thoughts raced, his focus intensified on the existence of the Son of God. Cordu's empty infant cradle and the honorific title of Lady Moon nurturing a deity flooded his mind.

Dammit, why is it that the Great Mother seems entwined with children, Sons of God, and babies? Does that entity have a penchant for offspring? Lumian smirked superficially.

"It seems your Son of God hasn't truly been born."

The old man in the loose black robe suddenly became fervent.

"He's already born in the spirit world, but He's yet to step into the real world.

"Don't you see? Just revealing His form made me a few years younger. If He were truly born, I'd instantly regain my youth!"

Who knows what malevolent creation you've unleashed… Lumian criticized and said, "You plan to shape the Son of God's body with just this fragment of life?"

The elder was taken aback.

"This is a ritual bestowed by the Great Mother's revelation. It's undeniably effective!"

Lumian smiled.

"That Enio is unmistakably an ordinary person. The ritual's effects won't bode well. If it were a Beyonder with a robust life force, the outcome might be entirely different."

The elder instinctively concurred, "Indeed. That's why I intended to examine your servant's internal organs…"

At this juncture, the elder halted, casting a wary glance at Lumian.

With a beaming smile, Lumian proposed, "Have you ever thought of sacrificing your own internal organs?

"If you don't offer yourself as a sacrifice, how can you showcase your devotion to the Great Mother and your reverence for the Son of God?

"Don't fret; the Son of God will revive you and bestow youth upon you!"

As he concluded his words, a dark-green light condensed in Lumian's right hand.

-x-X-x-

The dark-green light morphed into a beam, slamming into the old man's chest and sinking into the loose black robe, akin to sunlight, unstoppable.

Already appearing seven to eight years younger, the old man's expression twisted, and every inch of exposed skin displayed signs of melting.

His aura rapidly waned.

Simultaneously, a burst of vigorous life force erupted from his body. Under the melting skin, flesh and blood writhed, resisting the mutation.

The black-robed old man's eyes darkened, and he abruptly faded away.

In an instant, a hazy face emerged from the armchair at the dining table, blending with the brown wood, about to gain clarity.

At that moment, a cascade of flames descended from the crimson-flame-covered ceiling, soaking the armchair and swiftly setting it ablaze.

Before the brown face could fully materialize, it succumbed to the raging flames, forced to retreat.

Lumian lost sight and sense of the black-robed elder subsequently.

While surveying the surroundings, Lugano, lying on the dining table, suddenly sat up and jumped down. He stared at Lumian with vacant eyes, like a wandering zombie.

Lumian chuckled, raising his right hand and pointing at Lugano.

With this gesture, specks of brilliance shimmered in his eyes, as if the cosmos had descended.

Lugano found himself in an empty night sky, surrounded by twinkling stars.

He stood rooted to the ground in a daze. Without any subsequent actions, he resembled a machine that had lost its energy and controller.

Having settled his servant, Lumian surveyed his surroundings once more.

Yet, his eyes brimmed with flowing and burning crimson flames, and the black-robed elder's figure remained elusive.

Lumian's expression remained stoic as he splayed the five fingers on his right hand, clenching them into a fist.

His body suddenly grew heavy, and the flames surrounding him surged towards him like a river converging into the sea, drawn by an invisible force.

Bottles, organs from various body parts, and lightweight items in the room soared towards Lumian.

On the wooden coat rack near the door, the transparent figure of the black-robed elder protruded, pulled away by an unseen force.

He fought with all his might, but he couldn't resist the pull towards Lumian. It was akin to a piece of wood caught in a flood or a thin leaf fluttering in a fierce wind.

Lumian's left hand was already raised, and the crimson, nearly white flame in his palm rapidly turned white under the intense suction force, forming a minuscule ball.

Layers of compressed white-hot fireballs were unleashed, and the weighty and fearsome suction force dissipated.

Pa! The black-robed elder finally landed on the floor, his vision completely engulfed by the blazing white fireball.

Rumble!

The blazing white fireball collided with the Beyonder conducting the sinister surgery and strange ritual. The explosion's sound echoed into the distance but was muffled by the darkness shrouding the room, preventing it from permeating.

In the midst of such a violent explosion, no one on the ship heard or sensed anything awry.

Rumble!

The black-robed elder's body was shredded by the devastating explosion. Countless corpse fragments were instantly charred or consumed by bright flames, scattering across every corner of the living room and dining room.

With spirit channeling at his disposal and Ludwig providing support, Lumian reveled in the authority of the Governor of the Sea and the nearly demigod-level power it bestowed. He cared not for what the enemy might transform into.

Incredible. Is this what it's like to be a demigod? Even if it's just an illusion… Sadly, it won't last beyond six in the morning… Lumian sighed, directing his gaze at the burning corpse fragments.

A quick inspection revealed that the black-robed elder's flesh had rapidly charred or turned to ashes. It was as if frost had met magma from a volcanic eruption.

In a matter of seconds, only the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys, intestines, and stomach remained in the room, along with a grayish-white half-charred brain.

Wh… Even with his feet, Lumian could tell that something was awry.

Except for the brain, the remnants of the enemy were all internal organs.

The malevolent surgery he had just completed involved extracting someone's internal organs to let them live as if nothing happened!

At the same time, the peculiar ritual he performed utilized the complete set of internal organs to attempt to reconstruct the so-called Child of God's body!

All internal organs—it was hard for Lumian not to draw a connection.

Could it be that this fellow's internal organs were extracted before, and he survived by piecing together others' internal organs, becoming a Beyonder? What's this called? Human alchemy? If it's true, who took his internal organs? Lumian pondered silently.

The stars in his eyes swiftly dissipated, and Lugano returned to the real world.

From a distance of four to five meters, Lumian raised his right hand and smoothly swung it.

Smack!

Lugano felt the impact of an invisible force against his face.

With a sudden jolt, his eyes gradually cleared of their blank stare.

The first sight that greeted Lugano was the crimson flames falling around him, extinguishing before causing any havoc.

Then, he noticed charred body parts, scattered internal organs, glass jars filled with light-amber liquid, and organs soaked in them.

Am I still dreaming? Is this a nightmare? Just as this thought crossed Lugano's mind, the image of his employer, Louis Berry, with black hair and green eyes, appeared before him.

Son of a bitch, this dream took an unexpected turn! Lugano shuddered and involuntarily inquired, "What happened?"

Lumian pondered for a moment and asked, "What dream did you just experience?"

What dream? Lugano confirmed his wakefulness and recollected, "I dreamed of my childhood. My mother stood at the door, urging me to come home for dinner. She even sang a nursery rhyme from my hometown…

"She's been gone for almost ten years. I miss her dearly. I kept walking towards the door, but I couldn't reach her…"

At that moment, Lugano realized that this wasn't their suite. He exclaimed in shock,

"What happened?"

With a smile, Lumian responded, "You slept until midnight and suddenly sleepwalked all the way here. An old man had plans to operate on you, remove your kidneys, and slowly turn you into a patient like Enio."

The more Lugano listened, the more fear gripped him. Earlier, he had wondered how someone like Enio, who had lost most of his internal organs, could still be alive, albeit turning weak—only to realize that he was so close to turning into a similar figure!

"Hiss…" Lugano gasped and asked with trepidation, "Where's that old man?"

"That's all that remains." Lumian gestured at the internal organs and the grayish-white, half-charred brain on the ground.

Without giving Lugano a chance to sigh, Lumian instructed, "Bring Ludwig here."

It was also almost time for his midnight snack.

Lugano hastily left the suite, grateful for choosing to follow Lumian to the Southern Continent.

Otherwise, he would be at the mercy of such situations elsewhere!

Lugano believed this matter had nothing to do with Lumian. He had brought it upon himself. If it were Trier, he might have encountered a similar patient who had lost internal organs.

Lumian watched him leave, raised his right hand, and stroked his chin.

Simply hearing the infant's cries from the failed ritual can influence Beyonders of the Planter pathway to sleep and act in a sleepwalking state, receiving corresponding orders?

Isn't this too exaggerated? It's an absolute suppression on the Planter pathway…

I could understand a similar phenomenon if that ritual had succeeded, and the Child of God was truly born. Yet, it's already this powerful despite being a failed product?

Even with the limitation of its range, it's still terrifying… Is there a key reason I don't know?

Moreover, can only Beyonders of the Planter or Sower pathways hear the Child of God's cries? Can the Apothecary pathway, which can interchange with the Planter pathway, also hear it?

Amidst Lumian's thoughts, Lugano led Ludwig into the suite.

Faced with this gruesome scene, Ludwig pressed his hand to his mouth and yawned.

"Where's the food?"

Lumian didn't make any immediate requests. Instead, he turned to Lugano.

"Guard the door."

With the prior experience of the blood-drinking incident, Lugano could vaguely guess what was about to happen. He didn't dare face it directly. Upon hearing Lumian's instructions, he heaved a sigh of relief and jogged to the corridor, closing the vermilion door behind him.

Only then did Lumian gesture towards the scattered internal organs on the ground.

"Do you need me to roast it for you?"

Ludwig shot a quick glance at Lumian.

"Don't you find it irksome? These are all human organs."

Lumian emitted a soft chuckle.

"In my eyes, this is already on par with a monster's insides."

He then wore a self-deprecating expression.

"Moreover, isn't directly consuming Beyonder characteristics to advance a Beyonder equivalent to eating someone?"

Ludwig remained silent, taking a few steps to the side. He squatted down, picked up the old man's heart, stuffed it into his mouth, and began to chew.

Crimson blood slowly trickled from the corner of his mouth.

Lumian pulled up a chair and sat down, patiently waiting for Ludwig to finish his meal and digest.

After seven to eight minutes, Ludwig retrieved a white handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped his mouth.

"These internal organs belong to different people. Some are Beyonders, some are ordinary folks, some old, some teenagers…

"There are traces of human refinement. The aura of life is rather mixed and impure…

"They will be controlled and influenced by the refiner…

"Having been refined, the person doesn't know that he's been through this.

"He has complete memories of the past. This is something that can't be achieved by refining an ordinary body.

"He followed Enio on board, hoping to extract the remaining organs and complete the ritual before Enio reached his destination…"

Ludwig recounted the knowledge and memories he had absorbed in a straightforward tone.