Chapter 1105 - 69 COI

Lumian's immediate priority upon reaching Port Santa was to delve into the events of the previous sea prayer ritual, particularly focusing on the individuals involved in the accident. This investigation would be crucial in uncovering the true identities of the key members of April Fool's.

However, this phase of his pursuit carried inherent risks of deception and potential traps.

Understanding the intricacies of last year's prank was paramount before engaging the Minor Arcana—Knight of Swords—in any assistance. Lumian didn't find it plausible to enlist aid on such matters.

The sealed knowledge surrounding the events in Port Santa made it apparent that unless the Knight of Swords happened to be present, he wouldn't yield much help.

Initially, Lumian aimed to gather information about the sea prayer ritual and the previous year's incident, but such details seemed exclusive to this location. Peripheral members of April Fool's, involved in minor roles, offered limited perspectives, offering mere snippets of the puzzle.

With a flick of his wrist, Lumian transformed Madam Magician's reply into a blazing fireball.

Exiting the master bedroom of the suite, he addressed Lugano, who waited in the living room, "Let's get ourselves a local identity."

"You've already used Louis Berry's identity to check into the motel," Lugano reminded Lumian after some thought.

Did this mean it's time to depart?

Wouldn't that be a waste of an entire week's rent?

Lugano's heart ached at the thought of the 10.5 gold risot.

Spending money wasn't an issue; just don't waste it!

As a bounty hunter who had lived a tough life for many years, he was quite sensitive to money. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so thick-skinned as to ask Lumian for a "job."

"Any issues?" Lumian inquired with a smile.

In the October warmth of Port Santa, Lumian sported a straightforward ensemble—light linen shirt, brown pants, a golden straw hat cradled in his grasp.

For a moment, Lugano didn't know if he should voice his primary concern—

the matter of money. Finally, he decided to broach the subject.

"Boss, I grabbed a few newspapers from the street. Seems there are rumors in Port Farim about you taking down the Demon Warlock."

Upon reading this news, Lugano rubbed his eyes several times, wondering if he had read wrongly.

When had his boss eradicated the Demon Warlock?

Why don't I know?

Only the memory of the seemingly bombarded master bedroom stirred skepticism.

"It was me," Lumian replied with a slight nod.

"…" Lugano momentarily lost the ability to organize his words.

After a brief pause, he suppressed his curiosity and feigned understanding.

"You've bagged a bounty of 600,000 verl d'or and some spoils of war. No wonder you've been throwing money around lately…"

The rent of 20 to 30 verl d'or didn't seem extravagant anymore.

"All donated," Lumian disclosed matter-of-factly.

"Why?" Lugano blurted out.

Lumian glanced at him.

Lugano immediately shut his mouth and smiled sheepishly.

"We need to change our location. Louis Berry's fame in the Fog Sea makes him an easy target."

In that gaze, Lumian conveyed an unspoken message:

Who's in charge here? You or me?

Did I need your approval to donate the bounty?

With a subtle smile, Lumian posed the question, "Who said we were relocating?"

Lugano, caught off guard, stammered, "Not relocating…"

Lumian's smile held a cryptic meaning as he shared, "Why else do you think I didn't ask the clergyman from the Church of The Fool, who helped collect the bounty, to conceal my identity?"

Louis Berry, the high-profile adventurer, served as a beacon, attracting attention and revealing the landscape of potential threats.

Lumian needed an inconspicuous local guise to operate discreetly in the shadows.

Lugano, grappling with the complexity of his employer's motives, confessed, "I-I thought you just wanted to be as famous as Gehrman Sparrow in the Five Seas." He sensed there was more beneath the surface.

Lumian chuckled.

"Who among our generation wouldn't want to match Gehrman Sparrow's fame in the Five Seas?"

The desire for recognition satisfied his vanity, providing a plausible reason for not letting Theis, the Church of The Fool's bishop, conceal his identity completely.

A superficial motive—one genuine enough to make people believe—could effectively veil hidden intentions.

"Uh…" Lugano, feeling like he couldn't decipher Lumian's true colors or grasp his ultimate goal, sighed inwardly.

Sigh, I'm just a Planter, a Doctor, and a seasoned bounty hunter. My intelligence can only be considered ordinary…

Lumian cast a glance at Ludwig, munching on a potato omelet, and declared, "Let's go."

He nudged the coat rack into a blind spot, hanging the golden straw hat, creating the illusion of an inconspicuous figure if one looked from the opposite building.

Exiting the Solow Motel, Lumian strolled along the grayish-white stone street toward the lively bars near the harbor. Lugano followed, holding Ludwig's hand.

The ancient street boasted mottled houses with white walls and red tiles. Near entrances like Cordu, elderly women chatted in the sun, but they didn't lend a hand in catching lice.

Passersby tread softly, lowering their voices to maintain the tranquility of the scene.

In a casual exchange with Francesco, the bartender at the Flying Bird's basement bar, Lumian learned of a cultural phenomenon in Feynapotter, shaped by the Earth Mother's faith and the significance accorded to family traditions: "Matriarchal culture."

Within each family, the most venerable grandmother, a prolific progenitor, commanded unparalleled respect. As the unquestionable "parent," they wielded a certain degree of control over every family member. Even outside the confines of their homes, this reverence persisted, for these grandmothers represented the familial symbol, embodying the Earth Mother.

The combination of religious beliefs and societal norms secured a unique status for these elderly grandmothers.

Observing this dynamic, Lumian found himself contemplating a question.

In Riston Province, a married woman, functioning as a de facto parent, held the right to be addressed as "Madame" and have her name prefixed with "Na." Could this tradition be an influence from Feynapotter's matriarchal culture just a mountain away?

Nomadic herdsmen and traders, traversing vast distances, inevitably brought back tales of their experiences. Ancient practices from the Dariège mountain range and its surroundings, spanning over a millennium, undoubtedly left an indelible mark.

Navigating the ancient yet serene streets under the brilliant sunlight, Lumian felt a sense of displacement. It was as if he had returned to Cordu during the bustling season when adults toiled in the fields, tended to sheep in the mountains, or embarked on hunting expeditions, leaving only an old woman and young children behind.

…

Trier, third level of the catacombs.

Jenna closed her eyes and extended her senses, but the black Krismona Night Pillar remained silent, devoid of any sighs or motion.

Assessing the Mirror Substitutions, she cautiously approached the enigmatic weather-free pillar, placing her palm against it.

The black pillar that supported the cave's ceiling, though cold and metallic, retained the texture of rock.

Yet, Jenna's probing mind received nothing beyond this information.

"It still doesn't work," she communicated to Franca, shaking her head.

In her reflections, Jenna recalled the two instances and sought their commonality when she had heard Krismona's voice—during her advancement and within a special mirror world in Fourth Epoch Trier.

Both times, danger and intense emotions had been common denominators.

Jenna whispered, "The danger during my Witch advancement was suppressed by the sacrificial square. Is the key intense emotions?" Jenna pondered aloud, delving into memories of painful events that had stirred her emotions,

including her mother's death, separation from her brother, and other poignant experiences of suffering.

Despite the visible fluctuations in her emotions, the Krismona Night Pillar remained silent, the illusory sigh elusive.

Franca, after a moment's contemplation, suggested, "Must there be a special event to trigger it?"

"Perhaps," Jenna replied, biting her lip. "Why don't we try the fourth level? Lumian mentioned the shadow suspected to have formed after the death of the Demoness pathway's Angel. That should be Krismona."

Franca's heart stirred, and she affirmed, "That's right. Moreover, the shadow is controlled by the seal and doesn't have the ability to attack humans. Yes, the prerequisite is that we strictly adhere to the series of rules in the catacombs."

After a brief discussion, the two of them circled around the Krismona Night Pillar, replaced candles, and proceeded to descend the ancient, mottled stone steps. Under the watchful gaze of realistic dark-gray reliefs depicting human heads on both sides of the rock walls, they descended step by step.

Breaking the suffocating silence, Franca spoke up, "This place is perfect for ghost stories. The atmosphere is amazing."

Jenna glanced at her, teasing, "Are you afraid?"

"How is that possible?" Franca retorted stubbornly.

Jenna chuckled.

"If you weren't afraid, you'd just tell ghost stories to scare me. Now, you're just sighing. It means you mainly want to rely on your voice to boost your courage."

It's a waste of your talent not to choose the Spectator pathway… Do theater actors have to learn to read people? Franca was about to argue when they reached the last ancient stone step.

Simultaneously, a sense of oppression enveloped them.

In the next moment, a yellowish candle flame flickered in their eyes.

The candle flame didn't belong to them. It emerged from the distant fourth level of the catacombs.

-x-X-x-

Yet, their circumstances didn't permit avoidance. They had to wield a glowing white candle, a feeble defense against the encroaching darkness of the catacombs. The candle's flame, though, made them conspicuous, a visible beacon in the shadows. True concealment required them to find solace behind the sealed doors of an ancient tomb.

The option of becoming invisible or lurking in the shadows was risky—they weren't certain if it meant snuffing out the candle flame.

After a silent exchange of glances, Franca and Jenna chose to take a circuitous route, maintaining a safe distance from the distant candlelight.

In the oppressive stillness that felt like time itself had halted, the two Demonesses cautiously progressed westward, guided by road signs and the black lines on the cave ceiling.

As they approached a point parallel to the candle flame, Franca turned her head to peer down the corridor between the ancient tombs.

Thanks to her exceptional night vision, she identified the person clutching the burning candle.

A man in a black robe—deep black and light hues intermingled in his hair, a gentle profile, pale-white skin, and dark brown eyes, distinct from the Intisians.

Feynapotterian? Strikingly similar, yet subtly different. Why do I sense familiarity? When have I encountered this person before? Did he leave an impression in the memory recesses of the original owner of my body? Franca felt an inexplicable urge to approach and strike up a conversation.

She took a deep breath and suppressed it.

In the hushed darkness of the catacombs, approaching strangers recklessly could easily spark unnecessary conflict.

Franca had dedicated considerable time to delve into the circumstances surrounding the original body's demise and the person's life experiences. She sought to ensure there were no lingering issues that she needed to be wary about acquaintances from the past.

The man in the black robe, having observed the two Demonesses and noting their lack of intent to draw near, continued on his path, eventually disappearing behind an ancient tomb.

"He doesn't look like a college student." Jenna averted her gaze and eliminated an option.

If the individual hadn't ventured into the fourth level of the catacombs merely driven by curiosity and excitement, it hints at a clear motive. Is he on a commissioned search for antiques, paying respects to an ancestor buried on this level, or a Beyonder delving into the mysticism and seal composition of the catacombs? Perhaps, like Jenna and myself, he pursues the revelations from the three night pillars. Franca's mind raced through various possibilities.

On the fourth level of the catacombs, two more night pillars awaited: Marianne's Night Pillar and Lius's Night Pillar.

The former, the pope of the Evernight Goddess Church in the Fourth Epoch, and the latter, the Blessed of the ancient Death. Both had met their demise during the War of the Four Emperors inside Fourth Epoch Trier.

Having shared her analysis with Jenna, Franca gestured with her right hand, the one without a candle, and reassured, "Don't worry about his motives. It won't affect our search for Krismona's shadow."

I didn't want to bother either. You were the one considering all the possibilities… I sensed that impulse in your heart. Did you truly want to investigate that person just now? Jenna, attuned to Franca's nuances, grasped her companion's thoughts but chose to chuckle, keeping the revelation to herself.

At times, Franca could be quite prideful!

The entrance was sealed by a dense cluster of pale-white mushrooms tinged with black.

Before Jenna could respond, she continued, "Alright, alright, alright. I get it. Now's not the time for exploration and adventure."

"Dammit, I didn't stop you. Maybe Krismona's shadow is in the mushroom cave." Jenna, feeling stifled since entering the fourth level of the catacombs, vented her discomfort with coarse language, as if confined in a space that oppressed her.

Franca was on the verge of responding when her attention fixated on a figure standing at the corner ahead.

Clad in a simple and unadorned white robe, the figure boasted smooth black hair, exquisite facial features, and a holy aura. Her beauty transcended the surroundings of darkness, silence, and filth, as if she had emerged from the depths of human imagination,

Krismona! The name resonated simultaneously in the minds of Franca and Jenna.

They had indeed stumbled upon a shadow suspected to be a High-Sequence Beyonder—the Demoness, Krismona!

Regaining her composure, Jenna locked eyes with the figure and attempted to speak in ancient Hermes, "Hello."

The woman's beauty was otherworldly, captivating everyone's attention. A faint smile graced the corners of her mouth.

Her allure was fully unleashed.

Entranced by that smile, Jenna and Franca found themselves lost, their minds fixated on a singular thought: Approach her, approach her…

Like moths drawn to a flame, fully aware of the dangers that lay in her beauty, yet compelled to draw near.

One step, two steps, three steps… The two Demonesses, eyes filled with fascination, advanced toward the woman in the simple white robe.

As they walked on, Jenna couldn't help but instinctively sigh and feel a sense of pity.

Why did she sigh when she has such a beautiful smile?

Had she encountered something sorrowful?

Sigh…

Jenna snapped out of her daze, realizing that the woman in the white robe might not be the same as Krismona, who had sighed and protected them. At the very least, she wasn't entirely the same!

Her vision cleared instantly, revealing the beautiful figure's soft black hair billowing. Each strand had become unusually thick, and the top had split open, resembling a snake opening its mouth.

The pitch-black snake's mouth faced Jenna and Franca, seemingly poised for their approach.

Jenna's heart skipped a beat. She swiftly grabbed Franca and whispered, "Something's amiss!"

Franca, initially taken aback, struggled for a few seconds before breaking free from her enchantment.

Coming to a sudden halt, they watched as the holy figure in the white robe stared blankly for a moment before bifurcating into a fork and vanishing into the darkness.

Phew… Franca exhaled, her fear lingering as she remarked, "Why isn't there a rule in the catacombs guidelines that prohibits communication with those who don't hold candles?"

Franca glanced at her with frustration and said, "You managed to break free from the female ghost's charm before I did."

Jenna recounted the thoughts that had recently crossed her mind.

"But I also heard Krismona's sigh and words in Fourth Epoch Trier…" Franca raised her right hand and touched her face. "Am I really more easily enamored with beauty?"

At this point, a sudden puzzlement overcame her.

"Actually, I've always found it strange that Krismona Night Pillar stands in the catacombs.

"As for the other two night pillars, one belongs to the Church of Evernight's former pope, Marianne, and the other is named after the ancient Death's Blessed, Lius. The latter is the Death Consul, which is very compatible with the catacombs. The former should be on the neighboring pathway of Death. In other words, they are closely related to death, home, and the dead. Krismona is the Demoness of Catastrophe, clearly distinct from them.

"I can understand why there was a giant pillar representing Krismona in Fourth Epoch Trier. That's because there's a special mirror world there. It contains the Primordial Demoness's divine power left behind during the War of the Four Emperors. However, why was Krismona Night Pillar included in the catacombs' construction? Back then, an Angel who followed the Blood Emperor perished. Why did it have to be Her?"

Jenna shook her head slowly and redirected her gaze to the spot where the holy figure had vanished.

She attempted to walk a distance in that direction and suddenly realized that the spot where the white-robed woman had been standing was an ancient tomb.

Unlike the other tombs on the fourth floor, its tomb door was open.

…

After departing Rue Aquina, home to the Solow Motel, Lumian found an empty alley and casually tossed the Lie earring to Lugano.

"Find someone skilled in crafting false identities. Change your appearance, and don't use your current look." Lumian gestured towards the café diagonally opposite. "I'll be waiting for you there."

"Yes, Boss." Lugano displayed no sign of worry.

Despite being unfamiliar with this city, he had numerous acquaintances residing here.

Moreover, he was fluent in Highlander.

As Lumian observed the translator-guide completing his disguise, returning Lie, and heading toward Rue des Bars, he led Ludwig into the café, where each table was adorned with a bouquet of flowers.

The sun bore down, rendering the passersby somewhat languid.

Unfazed, Lumian, armed with his limited knowledge of Highlander words and gestures, successfully ordered two cups of Torres coffee with milk, a Santa yolk pastry with cream fashioned into a tower, roasted suckling pig, and duck stewed in pear juice.

Ludwig was pleased.

Sipping his coffee, Lumian surveyed the café. He noticed that the six or seven tables were occupied mainly by couples in their twenties, engaged in dates. There was only one middle-aged couple.

With Lumian's acute hearing, it wasn't challenging for him to catch snippets of conversations at nearby tables, even though he didn't comprehend most of it. Only a few words stood out.

"Ocean… Pray… Going aboard… Island…"

Could they be discussing the sea prayer ritual next month? Lumian mused, shifting his gaze out the window.

On the street, two young men with long swords on their backs engaged in a heated argument for some reason. Drawing their swords on the spot, they seemed poised for a duel.

-x-X-x-

Even through the glass window, Lumian heard the clash of two lads' swords outside.

He couldn't help but raise his eyebrows.

They're really fighting?

Though duels were popular in Trier, it was rare for them to wield weapons without the formalities. Normally, they'd go through the entire process: determine the type of duel—cold weapons or revolvers—sign a contract, find a recognized witness, and then borrow weapons from the café's front desk or the bar counter. Only these duels were legal, avoiding police intervention.

But wielding a longsword at the slightest disagreement was either a prelude to riot or a mob vendetta. Such lethal weapons rarely surfaced in real fights.

Port Santa, or rather, the Feynapotter Kingdom's security is so poor? Lumian was surprised by this.

From the Flying Bird to the Solow Motel, he noticed the locals' penchant for carrying blades and swords, reminiscent of scenes from classical novels.

It was actually legal!

In a maritime colony like Port Farim, openly carrying such items was unheard of. Even a dagger had to be concealed.

For him, though, this was a welcome advantage.

Fascinated, Lumian observed the desperate struggle between the two lads through the window, occasionally commenting on their combat techniques in his mind.

Suddenly, a group of people jogged over from the street.

All women, they wore black cloth hats with white patterns, black lining, and brown leather armor. Dark cloaks adorned with two crossed swords, and brass revolvers strapped to their waists completed their attire.

The woman leading the group seemed to be in her late twenties, with thick, naturally curly black hair, thick eyebrows, large eyes, and plump red lips—

quite beautiful.

Standing at over 1.7 meters tall, she drew a straight sword from her back and called out to the two men fighting on the street with a cold expression.

Lumian only understood the word "stop."

The two lads truly ceased their actions, standing by the street and accepting the reprimand from the group of women, their imposing demeanor fading.

After a few minutes, they left separately with their swords, not being apprehended.

The language barrier proved quite troublesome.

Lumian wasn't in a hurry to inquire if he had found a black-market merchant who could craft fake identities. He casually asked, "Is it legal to possess cold weapons in Port Santa?"

Lugano lowered his round-rimmed black hat and dropped his voice.

"That's right. It's a local custom. The Feynapotter Kingdom government respects this tradition. Besides, it's a good thing for them to have more people die in the Gaia Province."

"Why?" Lumian inquired with interest.

Lugano covered his face with his hand, as if afraid of being followed.

Observing this, Lumian tossed him the Lie earring.

Lugano hurried to the washroom and reverted to his original appearance, albeit his facial features becoming more refined.

Only then did he relax and explain, "Have you ever heard of the Battle of the Violated Oath?"

Lumian, shaped by Aurore's rigorous education, instinctively replied, "The Battle of the Violated Oath that began in the Fifth Epoch in 738? The one where Lenburg, Masin, Segar, and other small south-central countries were separated from the north of the Feynapotter Kingdom, and the Church of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom broke off from the Church of Earth Mother?"

Lugano was taken aback.

"Yes."

He only had a rough idea. The other party had actually revealed the exact year and final outcome.

After a few seconds, Lugano lowered his voice and said, "During the Battle of the Violated Oath, the entire Gaia Province, especially those near the Dariège mountain range, attempted to gain independence but failed.

"Later, in order to guard against the natives, despite high-quality iron and coal mines just south of the Dariège Mountains, the Feynapotter Kingdom only set up smelting factories and no gun factories. There wasn't a single native in the troops stationed here; they were all assigned to other places.

"Was there once a widespread belief in the God of Knowledge and Wisdom here?" Lumian couldn't help but glance at Ludwig, who was enjoying dessert.

The key to the independence of Lenburg, Masin, Segar, and other countries in the south-central region was their mainstream faith in the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, not the Earth Mother.

"I don't know," Lugano honestly shook his head.

Undeterred, he pressed on with the matter at hand.

"You should already know that the ancient Gaia Province mainly comprised four types of people. Firstly, farmers. Secondly, fishermen from places like Port Santa. Thirdly, mountain dwellers who relied on minerals and hunting to survive. Fourthly, the herdsmen you're familiar with. The latter three are fierce, wielding swords fearlessly in conflicts."

Lumian nodded.

That was indeed the case.

Whether fishermen, mountain dwellers, or herdsmen, they all lived in relative poverty. They battled nature's cruelty and faced various dangers beyond human settlements. They even had to be wary of those among them with ill intentions. Swords and blades were necessities, not ornaments.

Lumian had heard firsthand from the migrating herdsmen about wolf pack attacks and the brutality of bandits. It had left a deep impression on him.

"One of Earth Mother's three combat orders is stationed permanently in Gaia Province. They guard against us in the north and Lenburg in the northeast. Simultaneously, they aim to monitor the locals.

"Heh heh, encountering combat nuns in Gaia Province and Port Santa isn't uncommon. Their demeanors differ from other women…"

Lugano's expression shifted to one of leisure and fascination.

The team just now were the combat nuns who maintain order? Lumian realized.

He teased Lugano with a smile, "They're nuns."

Lugano smiled enigmatically and remarked, "The nuns of the Earth Mother Church don't take vows of chastity. Instead, they pledge to have as many children as possible before a certain age. If they're interested in you, they'll be quite proactive. Sometimes, they might even push a bit. The young folks here love showcasing their bravery in front of these nuns. Their courage might catch someone's eye."

Pledging to have numerous children before a certain age… It sounds peculiar, aligning with Earth Mother's teachings but reminiscent of another Mother. Local customs, governmental involvement, religious doctrines, and primal courtship behaviors has all woven into the folklore of this place where cold weapons rule the streets. Lumian hadn't expected such complexity behind a seemingly trivial matter.

Upon reflection, it was rather intriguing.

At that moment, Lumian suddenly understood Aurore's words from the past.

"If I return to university without life's pressures, I'd study history."

Phew… Lumian exhaled slowly and turned to Lugano, "Any progress?"

Lugano, still lost in thoughts about combat nuns, was caught off guard and struggled to snap out of his reverie.

"You Intisians…" Lumian clicked his tongue.

Only then did Lugano grasp the question. He sheepishly smiled and said,

"I've made some. I've found a well-connected black-market merchant who can help.

"Would you like to meet them? He's also a descendant of Dariège."

"Sure." Lumian finished his coffee and stood up.

…

Trier, fourth level of the catacombs.

Jenna and Franca each gripped a burning white candle, their eyes fixed on the ancient tomb that lay open, hesitant to advance.

No one knew what lay buried inside, and the fear of something terrifying emerging lingered in the air.

In the outer world, the two Demonesses could employ divination to discern the situation. However, in the catacombs, establishing a close connection with the ordinary spirit world was nearly impossible. The outcome was evident.

After all, Lumian couldn't enter through Spirit World Traversal, but he could "teleport" within its confines.

After a brief pause, Franca passed her Mirror Substitution to Jenna and stepped forward with solemn determination. Relying on her spiritual premonition, she cautiously approached the ancient tomb.

As they drew nearer, the dim yellow candlelight revealed a heap of pale-white bones in the entrance area, adorned with light greenish-black mold spots.

Franca raised the white candle, casting its light into the depths of the tomb.

Skeletons lay scattered in disarray, occupying every inch of the ground. In the center, a tilted sarcophagus revealed a multitude of decaying bones.

Franca hesitated for a moment before declaring, "It doesn't seem dangerous."

Only then did Jenna approach, returning the Mirror Substitution.

Franca continued her observation and remarked, "Nothing of value either."

Gems and other items were absent among the burial articles, likely lost during the construction of the catacombs and the opening of these ancient tombs. Everything else had decayed or shattered. Even the murals on the walls bore only faint traces.

Jenna observed for a while and said uncertainly, "What about the area where these bones are pressing down?"

"Let me take a look." Franca moved closer, allowing invisible spider silk to spread and entwine the pale-white bones at the entrance, aiding in their movement.

Suddenly, an irregular mirror fragment, seemingly coated in black paint, materialized in the flames.

Jenna and Franca's eyes narrowed.

It bore a striking resemblance to the Mirror World Fragment they had obtained in Fourth Epoch Trier!

"Did a special Mirror Person once die here?" Franca mused. "Did Krismona's shadow appear here to inform us? But why did She attack us?"

Jenna shared the perplexity. After a moment of thought, she said, "Why did the special Mirror Person die here? Who owns this tomb? Or rather, which ancient family does it belong to?"

Franca stared for a moment before nodding solemnly.

"That might be our next investigation."

Finding no anomalies, the duo stored away the mirror fragment. Utilizing the formless spider silk of the Demoness of Pleasure, they meticulously searched the entire tomb but found nothing that identified the tomb owner.

Franca sighed and said, "Well, we'll unravel it when we get back. Let's go acquire an antique tearcatcher for the employer now."

-x-X-x-

Lumian and Lugano, their appearances altered and attire changed, met the black-market merchant claiming lineage to Dariège.

Seated at the head of the table, he sported a white shirt and a black vest, a glass of pale malt-colored white wine at his fingertips and a slowly burning cigar between them.

He did embody the heritage of the Dariège region with slightly sunken eye sockets, slightly curled black hair, and piercing blue eyes reminiscent of a cloudless sky over a towering mountain. His thin cheeks and thick stubble suggested a man in his thirties.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Valerio," Lugano greeted in Highlander.

Valerio, casting a glance at his armed bodyguards, responded with a smile in Intisian, flavored with a distinct Dariège accent.

"It's been a long time since I've returned home. It's a pleasure to see you."

"Indeed, Mr. Valerio," Lumian replied in Intisian, his voice also tinged with a Dariège accent.

While shepherds excelled at navigating the perils of the wilderness, an inherent wariness of authorities in settled human areas lingered.

Valerio nodded subtly and inquired, "Did you come from Larnaca?"

"Yes, I just finished attending the trade fair there," Lumian replied smoothly.

Having learned about Larnaca from the shepherds in Cordu, Lumian was well aware of the monthly trade fair that transformed the suburbs into a bustling marketplace. Shepherds from far and wide flocked to the event, seizing opportunities to trade lamb, wool, cheese, and other goods.

Valerio then delved into the topic of migration and Dariège's folklore. Lumian, well-versed in the subject from a shepherd's perspective, provided insightful answers.

In the midst of the conversation, he felt a bit disoriented. Recollections of his sister's occasional threats echoed in his mind: "If you don't study hard, I'll send you off to be a shepherd!"

Now, irony had it that he found himself playing the role of a shepherd.

After some time, Valerio nodded in satisfaction and took a puff of his cigar.

"You're quite wise. Grazing in the suburbs doesn't require identification, but settling in the city requires it. I'll get you two sets as soon as possible. In the future, if you encounter any difficulties, you can come to me. I might not be of much help, but having one more person will give you more ideas. We're all from Dariège, so we naturally have to have each other's backs."

Lumian wasn't surprised by the black-market merchant's enthusiasm.

Uniting the people of one's homeland would create an exploitable force that couldn't be ignored!

It was reminiscent of the Savoie Mob. In the beginning, the pioneers, mostly Savoyards working as laborers and attendants, paved the way for the big bosses of the Savoie Chamber of Commerce. They expanded operations, safeguarded assets, and contributed immeasurably.

Lumian applied the acting techniques learned from Jenna and Anthony Reid's guidance to commend Valerio's noble character.

"If you want to survive here, it's best to convert to Earth Mother as soon as possible. Find a good lady to marry and have a few children as soon as possible. Only then will you avoid hidden trouble."

Is urging marriage and childbearing a tradition in the Feynapotter Kingdom? Lumian criticized and smiled bitterly.

"Without copper coins, there won't be any good girls."

This Dariège proverb echoed in the room, signifying the difficulty for the poor, especially shepherds, to attract fine ladies and start families.

"This is Feynapotter, not Dariège," Valerio remarked, taking a sip of his white wine. "The good ladies here value robust bodies and bravery. The money can wait after you get married."

Perplexed, Lumian questioned, "Why?

"Men like that are more suited for reproduction, and they possess the ability to impregnate good ladies," Valerio explained with a smile. "This place is different from Dariège. The essence of many things lies in fertility and reproduction. Only by understanding this can you truly understand Feynapotter and praise the mother of all things!"

The black-market merchant rose, spreading his feet slightly and raising his hands high.

No wonder Feynapotter teems with people in the Northern Continent. Without their knack for land improvement and food cultivation, sustaining such a population would be impossible. Lumian's thoughts raced as he probed,

"Mr. Valerio, I heard there's a sea prayer ritual next month. Any chance to make some money?"

"Yes," Valerio replied, taking a seat. "Port Santa stays relatively warm in November. When my grandfather first came, he rented a wooden box to store popsicles, gathered a pile of ice from the factory, and covered them up. Then, he waded into the crowd, selling popsicles and ice cubes, earning his first bucket of gold. You can still do it now, but the competition is fiercer. You might even need to rent a bicycle for a larger thermal wooden box to hit more ritual venues."

"Many ritual venues?" Lumian asked.

Valerio replied with a smile, "This is a grand event for all of Port Santa. Different processes happen in various places. There's the Dance of the Sea at the port, a parade of flower boats across the city, a sea boat race, the vigil ritual in Milo Village, and the core sea sacrifice."

"What's the sea sacrifice?" Lumian inquired curiously.

Valerio slowly shook his head.

"I don't know the specifics. All I know is that the Governor of the Sea and the Maidens of the Sea board a special boat, head to a certain area beyond the port with sacrifices from fishermen and sea merchants, and perform a unique ritual. The detailed process is known only to those who've been there."

"The Governor of the Sea, the Maidens of the Sea?" Lumian kept picking keywords.

This perfectly aligned with the situation of a Dariège shepherd who had just arrived in Port Santa.

Valerio smiled and said, "The crucial part of the Sea Prayer Ritual is selecting a man as the Governor of the Sea and four girls as the Maidens of the Sea. They'll lead a parade through the city on a flower boat before boarding a special fishing boat at the port. Sailing during the Dance of the Sea, they signal the start of the race. Later, they circle the port, entering the oldest local fishing village, Milo, for a night.

"At 7 a.m. the next morning, they reboard the boat and head to the sea sacrificial ground with the offerings."

The chosen Governor of the Sea and the Maidens of the Sea… A sea prayer ritual with multiple segments… Lumian repeated the key parts inwardly.

Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat as he made a connection.

This was very similar to the Lent celebration in the Dariège mountains and the Spring Elf!

Doesn't the sea prayer ritual here resemble the Lent celebration?

Upon second thought, Lumian felt that the similarity didn't explain the issue.

This was a common process in mysticism—the creation of a specific symbol to represent the sacrificial target to achieve the desired effect.

This was evident in many folklore rituals.

"How are the Governor of the Sea and the Maidens of the Sea chosen?" Lumian asked curiously.

Could it be, like the Spring Elf, they're elected by all the residents of Port Santa?

Could one gain a high reputation and enjoy hidden benefits after the ritual?

Valerio took another drag from his cigar.

"They're chosen by the committee members of the Fisheries Guild, the oldest guild in Port Santa. They keep the specific criteria and whether they want to vote a secret. Even the official members of the Fisheries Guild don't know."

With that, the black-market merchant grinned.

"I also aim to become the Governor of the Sea. They say it comes with many perks, but no one spills the details."

"How have the previous Governors of the Sea fared?" Lumian was more concerned about this matter.

Valerio was taken aback. He thought for a moment before shaking his head.

"I'm not sure.

"Each Governor of the Sea serves only a one-year term. Once they step down, they seem to be relocated. Anyway, they can't stick around in Port Santa to avoid clashes with the new Governor. Heh heh, they're surely offered hefty compensation and allowed to bring their families."

Relocated? Were they truly relocated, or did they face something else? Lumian, drawing from past experiences, couldn't help but think of something ominous and dreadful in the face of such a ritualistic folklore.

Regarding the Governor of the Sea's subsequent experiences during the sea prayer ritual, it did sound peculiar.

Lumian thought for a moment and, adopting the tone befitting his current guise, inquired, "What about the Maidens of the Sea?"

"They're a hit among sea merchants, fishing company shareholders, and fishermen and sailors. Everyone wants to wed the Maidens of the Sea, a symbol of the sea's blessing. Explore various fishing villages, the Fisheries Guild, and the homes of sea merchants, and you'll find many influential grandmothers who were once Maidens of the Sea." Valerio's face brimmed with envy, as if he too harbored dreams of marrying a Maiden of the Sea and becoming a true sea merchant.

This mirrors the hidden benefits of being a Spring Elf… Lumian suppressed the urge to raise his right hand and stroke his chin.

Knowing when to cease, he refrained from pressing further. After depositing 50 gold risot, he exited Valerio's illegal casino with Lugano.

Ludwig didn't come with them. Instead, he was stationed in a nearby family restaurant equipped with a children's entertainment facility, overseen by specialized caretakers and a provided meal.

In Feynapotter, numerous industries supported parents in raising children and alleviating stress. Intis and other countries lacked such facilities, and even if they existed, they were accessible only to the elite.

…

Trier, catacombs.

Franca and Jenna descended to the third level with their flickering white candles.

Feeling a bit less stifled, Franca turned her head and inquired, "What's the name of the tomb we're after?"

Jenna didn't hesitate and replied, "The Thorn and Shieldwall Tomb."

-x-X-x-

"Aren't you tired of this? Can't you try something different?" she cursed, turning her head to inspect the road sign beside her.

It indicated they had finally reached their destination.

Each level of the catacombs sprawled vast, evident by the multitude of remains it accommodated. The road signs at each node could only display seven or eight iconic names and nearby tombs. Franca and Jenna relied on returning to the small sacrificial square and starting anew to locate the Thorns and Shieldwall Tomb.

Unlike the fourth-level tomb, mostly sealed off and devoid of corpses and bones along the way, this place was strewn with scattered bones and decaying items, emitting a faint, uncomfortable stench.

Jenna glanced at the pile of bones outside and observed a few thin metal plates inlaid on the tomb wall. Their surfaces were blurry, showing signs of severe corrosion. Only the shieldwall and thorn symbol could be vaguely discerned. Whether there were other patterns remained impossible to tell.

"No wonder it's called the Thorns and Shieldwall Tomb." Franca sighed.

Simultaneously, illuminated by the dim yellow candlelight, she noticed companion items arranged in a groove on the tomb's inner wall. Some were made of wood, weathered and decayed, while others were glass and porcelainware, in the form of fragments. The only intact item was a glass bottle, its surface inlaid with carved patterns resembling gold and adorned with a unique golden lid. Perhaps due to the metal's protection, the glass bottle didn't shatter, but it appeared murky and less transparent.

"It's exquisite, almost like art," Franca commented, puzzled. "Why didn't the catacomb workers take it away?"

It seemed quite valuable!

"Perhaps it was placed in this tomb after the catacombs were completed," Jenna speculated.

The two Demonesses didn't linger on the topic. Jenna retrieved one of the Mirror Substitutions and handed it to Franca.

With a swift leap, Franca vaulted over the seemingly silent but dangerous skeletons, gracefully landing at the entrance of the Thorns and Shieldwall Tomb.

After confirming her surroundings and receiving no warnings from her spirituality, Jenna cautiously approached the groove on the side wall along the ground, avoiding the pale-white bones.

Instinctively, she reached out with her right hand but withdrew it. An old handkerchief from her pocket was produced, shielding her palm from direct contact with the antique tearcatcher.

The tears in the tearcatcher had long dried up.

Jenna scrutinized the tearcatcher for a moment before stowing it away. She retraced her steps and leaped to Franca's side.

"You completed the commission so easily?" she whispered uncertainly.

It was a stark contrast to the disappearance of the Deep Valley Cloister's gatekeeper she had previously accepted.

Franca scoffed and replied, "What kind of difficulty do you want for a 1,000 verl d'or commission?"

…

As Lumian, reverting to Louis Berry, strode into the front hall, his gaze fell upon a vibrant scene. A young brown-haired girl, clad in a red dress adorned with black patterns, swayed gracefully in a corner. From time to time, she paused to refine her dance moves.

Lumian's thoughts raced as he approached the front desk. Seizing the opportunity, he inquired, "What's she doing?"

This time, he spoke in Intisian.

The grizzled boss, his cheekbones etched with sunburnt marks, appeared taken aback. Responding in Intisian with a Dariège accent, he explained, "She's my granddaughter, Isabella. She's practicing the Dance of the Sea for the performance next month."

"Dance of the Sea… Dance of the Sea for the sea prayer ritual?" Lumian hadn't anticipated this revelation. Instinctively, he smiled and remarked, "That would make many girls jealous, wouldn't it?"

The boss grinned.

"This isn't like becoming a Maiden of the Sea. Not many people will be jealous, but participating in the Dance of the Sea performance can indeed make her proud and happy for a long time."

As Lumian signaled for Lugano to guide Ludwig back to their room, he casually inquired of the boss, "Did you come from Dariège?"

"That's right. I'm a Guillaume," the boss said with a self-deprecating smile. "Otta Guillaume. When I saw your identification this morning, I thought about greeting you in Intisian, but I gave up in the end. You know, Intisians aren't the best bunch. Even among my fellow villagers, I've come across a few with questionable morals."

"How long have you been in Port Santa?" Lumian asked with genuine interest, resting his right elbow on the front desk.

Otta Sr. pondered seriously.

"Forty years, I reckon. Probably forty years. Back then, I was an assistant in a caravan. I met my wife here and decided to stay. Heh heh, she's now a nagging old lady. Always fussing about how to dress when it gets cold or reminding me to head home for dinner, leaving the motel to the assistants. She manages everything so well that I don't have to worry. How great is that? It's rare to encounter such a woman in Dariège."

Lumian endured Otta Sr.'s ramblings for a while before cutting to the chase.

"I've been invited by a friend to Port Santa to witness the sea prayer ritual."

"It's quite lively. The entire port will be in euphoria," Otta Sr. praised without hesitation.

Lumian cast a glance at Isabella, still engrossed in her practice, and casually remarked, "I heard there was an accident at last year's sea prayer ritual?"

"No?" Otta Sr. responded with a puzzled expression. "I watched the flower boat parade, the boat race, and the Dance of the Sea. There were no accidents."

Frowning, he fell into deep thought.

"However, Sandro did mention that the number of shipwrecks has increased significantly this year. We've encountered more pirates, and our fishing gains haven't been as good as last year's… Was there really an accident at last year's sea prayer ritual? Was it the vigil ritual or the sea sacrifice? Did the old fogeys at the Fisheries Guild conceal the problem?

"Who's Sandro?" Lumian pressed.

Otta Sr. smiled again.

"It's my child, Isabella's father. He works as a clerk in the government, and his wife is a teacher at the grammar school."

Is Port Santa's sea prayer ritual genuinely effective? Has its protective power diminished after the April Fool's prank? Lumian's mind flashed with the information he'd gathered earlier.

The elderly's mix of shock, terror, and anger upon receiving the news was a source of long-lasting delight for the April Fool's participants.

After seeking more details about the sea prayer ritual, Lumian bid farewell to Ol' Otta and ascended to his suite upstairs.

…

At 4 p.m. in Trier, Quartier de l'Observatoire, near Place du Purgatoire.

After donning a hooded black robe and transforming her face into the dramatic persona of Showy Diva, Jenna followed the feedback from her contact and reached a street that specialized in funeral items.

Most Trieriens passing by appeared fairly ordinary, but a handful sported white masks, brandished blunt scythes, and adorned themselves in black robes. They posed as undead messengers from folklore, sewing white skulls and other artistic elements onto their shoulders…

Thanks to their presence and the unique atmosphere of Trier, Jenna, dressed as a warlock with a hood concealing her features, blended seamlessly into the surroundings.

She paused in a quiet corner and retrieved the exquisite tearcatcher.

Before long, someone resembling her approached and, in a gravelly voice, inquired, "How much for this tearcatcher?"

"1,000 verl d'or," Jenna responded, her excitement bubbling.

This marked her first successfully executed commission.

"1,001 verl d'or," countered the warlock-dressed man.

Upon the secret signal matching, Jenna insisted on charging only 1,000 verl d'or.

Once the confirmation was mutual, she handed over the tearcatcher, received the reward, and discreetly departed.

With the tearcatcher in hand, the hooded figure navigated the nearby streets, taking nearly fifteen minutes to circle back to Place du Purgatoire and approach a street bench at the edge.

A man sat there, engrossed in a newspaper.

The hooded figure presented the exquisite tearcatcher, adorned with intricate hollowed-out golden patterns, and whispered, "I've completed your commission. Will it offset the money I owe you?"

The person on the bench lowered the newspaper, looked up, revealing a clerk with curly black hair, sunken eyes, and thick lips. A crystal-like monocle adorned his right eye.

"Monsieur Monette?" the hooded figure pressed in confirmation.

Monette accepted the tearcatcher, gently tracing the golden patterns with a slow smile playing on his lips.

…

Solow Motel, fifth-floor suite.

Lumian spent the entire afternoon within the confines of his room at the Solow Motel. Lounging on a recliner, he swayed gently, engrossed in his ongoing study of Highlander. Now and then, he leafed through travel books detailing the customs of the Feynapotter Kingdom.

As evening approached, Lugano, who had ventured downstairs for a chat, returned to Lumian's room.

Leaning in, Lugano lowered his voice and shared, "Boss, there's a Madame looking for you."

Madame… Lumian felt a chill run down his spine upon hearing that term, and the muscles in his back tensed.

Which "Madame" could this be?

After a brief pause, Lumian realized that Lugano was referring to an ordinary Madame, not the "Madame" of the Beyonder world.

"Which Madame, and what brings her here?" Lumian inquired calmly, sitting up and addressing his translator.

Lugano shook his head and replied, "She didn't say. Just mentioned having something to entrust to the renowned adventurer, Louis Berry."

Lugano emphasized the term "renowned adventurer."

-x-X-x-

He stood up and said to Lugano, "Invite that Madame in."

With those words, Lumian stooped to pick up the distinctive golden straw hat from the small round table. He aimed to make Louis Berry's image more memorable, adding a touch of flair to his persona.

In no time, Lugano escorted a woman in her thirties into the room.

She wore a loose-fitting white dress adorned with red flowers, accentuating her curves.

Port Santa's women, in contrast to the Dariège region just across the mountain, favored glamorous and stylish attire, embodying a romantic and liberated aesthetic—reflecting the traditional taste of the Feynapotter Kingdom.

The lady, with long brown hair tied up and a healthy complexion, entered without a maid. Her azure eyes, framed by thick eyelashes, focused on Lumian, who held the golden straw hat.

Her red lips moved, and though Lumian couldn't grasp every word, the name "Louis Berry" was discernible in her pronunciation.

Promptly, Lugano initiated the translation.

"The Madame says, Honorable Monsieur Louis Berry, I've heard about your hunt of the Demon Warlock. I wonder if you're willing to help my family solve a problem."

Lumian's gaze shifted from the jeweled bead bracelet on the lady's wrist to her beautiful and mature face.

"What's your name?"

"Giorgia," the lady replied after Lugano translated.

Lumian repeated, acknowledging the lady's name with a smile,

"Madame Giorgia, what would you like to entrust me with?"

Giorgia listened attentively to Lugano's translation and spoke in Highlander with a slight local accent, "An evil creature has appeared in my household. I need your help eliminating it."

Lumian, though grasping the gist, awaited Lugano's translation by casting his gaze at him.

When Lugano conveyed Giorgia's words in Intisian, Lumian chuckled and said, "I'm sorry, I forgot to invite the beautiful Madame to have a seat.

"The great adventurer Gehrman Sparrow taught us that manners are very important."

Gesturing toward the sofa, Lumian settled onto the divan, attempting to caress Ludwig's head, like a godfather.

As Giorgia took her place in an armchair, Lumian, shaking his golden straw hat, leaned forward.

Giorgia looked at Lugano and listened attentively.

She pursed her thick lips and replied in Highlander,

"We don't want the Church to know about this. It will damage our family's reputation."

Is that why you are entrusting me, a foreigner who will leave after watching the sea prayer ritual? And that's after confirming my ability to deal with that evil creature… Lumian, pondering this choice, shifted his gaze away from Lugano. After a brief pause, he inquired, "Tell me more about that evil creature."

After a brief pause, Giorgia contemplated and then shared, "It resembles a tailless lizard. It attacked everyone in the household, killing a few maids and valets and devoured their bodies.

"Our family's bodyguards fired on it and injured it, but they failed to kill it because it has very strong scales. We could only chase it to the basement and lock it up.

"We thought it would slowly starve to death from hunger and thirst. To our surprise, nearly two weeks later, it's still alive and trying to break open the basement door."

It doesn't seem very dangerous. They could repel it with ordinary firearms… They didn't mention why the lizard appeared. It appears that this is why they aren't willing to seek out the Church of Earth Mother and the local government to handle it… Lumian thoughtfully compared the few words he understood to the content translated by Lugano and confirmed that the guide hadn't embellished or redacted any content.

Lumian then casually inquired, "Were there any casualties among the bodyguards?"

Giorgia, after the translation, shook her head slowly.

"No fatalities. Two were injured, but nothing severe. Yes, that monster made the entire room feel like it had been dragged into the deep sea, affecting normal movements."

As if dragged into the deep sea… There's indeed certain Beyonder phenomena, but it seems relatively weak… Deep sea… Lumian's interest was piqued as he earnestly inquired about the details.

After a series of responses, Giorgia said gently, "Monsieur Louis Berry, we're willing to pay you 15,000 risot, but you have to promise not to publicize this matter."

15,000 gold risot? According to your description, the monster is worth at most 5,000 gold risot. The remaining 10,000 should be a hush money, right? Lumian smiled and said in broken Highlander, "Sure thing."

Rising from his seat, Lumian announced in Intisian, "I want to observe the situation at the scene."

Giorgia stood up and listened to Lugano's translation.

She wasn't surprised by Louis Berry's request. Familiar with adventurers and bounty hunters, she understood the importance of assessing the situation firsthand and making thorough preparations. It meant survivability or success for the elites.

"Now?" Giorgia sought confirmation.

Lumian comprehended the word and affirmed in Highlander, "Now."

Adorning his golden straw hat, he made his way to the door, supplementing in Intisian, "Also, prepare a sumptuous dinner for me, my godson, and my translator."

Giorgia, slightly taken aback by the translation, watched Lumian's departure. She couldn't shake the feeling that this adventurer possessed a distinct quality compared to those she had encountered before.

…

Port Santa, Saint Lana Street.

Giorgia's residence occupied number 21 on this street. The five-story villa boasted brownish-red outer walls, adorned with statues of Angels and Saintesses from the Earth Mother Church, along with symbols depicting waves and fishing.

Wearing his distinctive golden straw hat and holding Ludwig's hand, the latter carrying a red school bag, Lumian trailed behind Giorgia, accompanied by her maid and valet. Together, they entered the villa's hall, which also served as a spacious dance floor beneath a tall, dome ceiling.

As Lumian stepped inside, he felt unseen eyes upon him from the circular railings on the upper floors.

It's indeed a household with multiple families sharing one roof. There are quite a few people… Lumian mused, choosing not to look up, smiling inwardly.

The concealed observers remained hidden. Giorgia then summoned two legally armed bodyguards, leading Lumian and the entourage down to the second basement where the iron-black door stood tightly shut.

As if sensing someone approaching, the door slammed as if struck by a powerful force.

"It's inside," Giorgia stated, pointing at the iron door with a complicated expression.

Lumian, understanding without the need for translation, pressed down on his golden straw hat and directed, "Take my godson to the living room for pre-

dinner dessert."

As he spoke, he strode towards the subterranean iron door without a backward glance.

Upon hearing Lugano's translation, Giorgia and the maid hastily guided Ludwig back to the surface. A bodyguard caught up to Lumian, his expression serious, and handed him a pewter-black key.

Without delay, the two bodyguards drew their revolvers, positioning themselves to aim at the iron door, preventing the monster from escaping.

Lumian methodically inserted the key into the lock, unlocking it.

He tossed the key aside and effortlessly pushed the iron door open with one hand.

In an instant, the monster's figure came into view.

A humanoid lizard, adorned with glistening, robust scales, met Lumian's eyes. Where there were no scales, smooth, sinister snake-like skin was exposed.

The monster's eyes were vertical, and they glowed with a nearly transparent light. Its mouth harbored sharp teeth that formed a menacing vortex.

Simultaneously, Lumian felt the air around him grow dense, like shackles enveloping him, clearly impeding his normal movements.

The moisture gave the sensation of plunging into the deep sea, enduring pressure from all directions.

The humanoid lizard lunged forward, and Lumian's body leaned towards the enemy as if pulled by a vortex.

Yet, the obvious smile on his lips persisted as he calmly attempted to pivot.

Suddenly, a latent power surged within him, allowing him to break free from the air's constraints.

Lumian swiftly rotated his body, swinging his right fist from below.

Instantly, crimson flames, nearly white, ignited from his fist, spreading to his forearm, resembling a dazzling fire serpent.

Bang!

The punch struck the humanoid lizard's chest and abdomen, causing the flames to compress.

Boom!

The humanoid lizard was sent flying, crystalline scales splattering from its chest and abdomen, resulting in a massive wound.

Lumian didn't give chase. With one hand in his pocket, he changed his right fist to a palm and gently pushed forward.

Crimson, nearly white fireballs materialized before him, whistling into the wound on the lizard's chest and abdomen.

Rumble!

The monster disintegrated, its flesh and blood splattering across the ground.

Lumian observed for a few moments before adjusting his golden straw hat. He turned around and walked towards the stairs leading to the surface.

The two armed and vigilant bodyguards maintained their original posture, still in a daze, unable to comprehend what had transpired.

Lumian didn't "rouse" them as he ascended the stairs.

Upon hearing the explosion, Giorgia, on the ground, left the lounge with Lugano and approached the staircase. She saw Lumian coming up.

"Have you confirmed the situation?" Madame Giorgia asked with concern.

Lumian replied with a smirk, "It's resolved."

-x-X-x-

It's resolved? It's already resolved? Giorgia suspected that the translator had made a mistake. Instinctively, she asked, "Is there a quick solution, or has it already been resolved?"

Lugano cast a sympathetic glance at the beautiful madame, experiencing the same emotions he felt when reading about how his employer had slain the Demon Warlock.

How could a monster confined to the basement by ordinary armed bodyguards compare to Burman, who had a bounty of 600,000 verl d'or?

Despite finding it unnecessary, Lugano respectfully conveyed Giorgia's words to Lumian.

Lumian removed the golden straw hat from his head and said, "You may instruct the servants to clean the basement."

Upon hearing Lugano's translation, Giorgia's pupils dilated as she looked at Lumian in bewilderment, unsure of what to say.

At that moment, a bodyguard guarding the basement ran up. Upon seeing Giorgia, he immediately leaned over, lowered his voice, and whispered something to her.

Giorgia's expression shifted a few times before she smiled and said to Lumian, "As expected of the renowned adventurer. I previously suspected that your hunt for the Demon Warlock was merely a rumor. Now, I completely believe it. Your might is enough to resound throughout the Five Seas."

She paused for a moment and said apologetically, "I'm sorry; we haven't had time to prepare dinner. We might need you to wait in the lounge for a while."

"Better to have me wait than a beautiful lady," Lumian replied with a smile.

That's basic courtesy!

He followed Giorgia's maid into the lounge specially catered for Ludwig to enjoy the pre-dinner dessert.

Giorgia and her bodyguard descended into the basement.

A sense of relief washed over her as she surveyed the blood-stained room, finding no trace of the humanoid lizard; it had completely vanished.

Dinner unfolded in a private chamber, exclusive to Lumian, his companions, and Giorgia. The lady's maid attended to them, serving dishes and pouring wine.

Lumian, intrigued by his surroundings, noted how the expansive mansion accommodated the needs of its diverse occupants. Small private rooms outside the grand banquet hall ensured the privacy of gatherings.

The meal was a delight for everyone. Lumian received 15,000 risot in banknotes; Giorgia appeared visibly at ease; Ludwig appreciated the villa's chefs; and Lugano experienced a high-end banquet for the first time.

The great adventurer, usually one to boast and joke while not in his monster-

hunting cold persona, lightened the atmosphere at the dining table.

This pleasant ambiance continued until Lumian departed from 21 Saint Lana Street alongside Ludwig and Lugano.

Lugano, slightly flushed from the white wine, gazed back at the brightly lit building and sighed deeply.

"I wonder when I'll have a house this grand, with numerous servants and chefs, and a wife like Giorgia."

Lumian teased, "Your emphasis is on the last part, isn't it?"

Lugano chuckled sheepishly and replied, "Well, based on your description, I might as well have been capable of taking down that humanoid lizard too."

It meant he possessed the skills to tackle a mission worth 30,000 verl d'or!

With a few more successful missions, Lugano's dream could become a reality!

"With guns and special bullets prepared in advance, coupled with ample combat experience, a Planter is indeed capable," Lumian carefully assessed his guide.

He avoided using "Doctor" to refer to Lugano, as this Sequence primarily bestowed healing superpowers and didn't offer significant improvement in combat.

Lugano was delighted to hear this, sensing a newfound hope in his life.

Lumian glanced at him and added with a smile, "However, if you were to accept this commission, the reward might only be two to three thousand risot.

"The rest accounts for the premium based on the great adventurer's reputation and the hush money for such a renowned figure.

"That's why you need to hunt down Demon Warlock before you can accept such a lucrative mission."

The smile on Lugano's face gradually faded.

If I could hunt down Demon Warlock, my dream would be fulfilled. I wouldn't have to be an adventurer!

Lumian paid no mind to the translator's emotional shifts. He glanced back at the large five-story villa and said thoughtfully, "The Matriarch of this family didn't appear even until the end…"

While it was understandable that the other family members hadn't shown themselves, logically speaking, as the head of the family, the Matriarch should have at least expressed her gratitude to the adventurer who had helped them resolve the problem.

"That's correct. A woman of Giorgia's age shouldn't be the head of such a large family," Lugano acknowledged, sensing the anomaly.

He refrained from bringing up the potential absence of a Matriarch in the villa. In extended families like this, there were likely more than one older woman who had given birth. If one Matriarch passed away, another would soon assume the role. Additionally, the Earth Mother Church was renowned for its adept treatment of illnesses in the Northern and Southern Continents. The Feynapotter Kingdom's average lifespan surpassed that of Loen, Intis, Feysac, and other nations. Plenty of individuals lived beyond the age of 70, especially with Giorgia's family's wealth providing ample medical resources.

Lumian averted his gaze and took a few steps.

"Go to the bar tonight and inquire about Giorgia's family."

As he spoke, he counted out 1,000 risot for Lugano.

"This covers your expenses for your activities during this period, including Ludwig's meal expenses when I'm out."

"Yes, Boss." Lugano appreciated his employer's generosity the most.

Near midnight, the Doctor returned to the suite at Solow Motel, reeking of alcohol. He addressed Lumian, who was observing Ludwig eat supper, "I got the info. Giorgia is the wife of Rubió Paco, a shareholder of Port Santa's Fisheries Company and a committee member of the Fisheries Guild. The Paco family's Matriarch is Rubio's mother, Martha."

Committee member of the Fisheries Guild… Lumian instantly focused.

This was a person knowledgeable about the complete process of the sea prayer ritual and the accident from last year.

"What else did you find out?" Lumian asked casually.

Lugano rambled on for a while before adding, "By the way, Martha was once a Maiden of the Sea."

Maiden of the Sea… Lumian pondered for a few seconds. She had been sought after by a specific crowd before marrying into the Paco family? He asked, "Did you find out anything about Martha's recent situation?"

"No." Lugano shook his head.

Lumian leaned back in his chair, as if preparing to doze off, not pressing for more information.

The next day, he stayed at the Solow Motel, awaiting Valerio's preparations for his local identification documents.

As evening approached, his messenger, Penitent Baynfel, emerged from the void and handed him a letter.

Lumian glanced at the charred corpse, still engulfed in viscous black flames, and casually asked, "Who sent it?"

Only five people were aware of his messenger's summoning incantation.

"A woman very close to death and darkness," Baynfel replied.

Lumian unfolded the letter and read the familiar handwriting: "There's a gathering scheduled for 10 tonight…"

This was from Hela. Before leaving Trier, Lumian had specifically summoned Hela's messenger and informed her of his messenger's summoning method. With his frequent travel and changes in residence, it was impractical to summon Hela's messenger each time he stayed in a motel. Hence, he made such arrangements to convenience her in getting him.

Each messenger was intricately bound to its master. Through the mystical connection of the contract, the messenger could track the contracted target regardless of their changing locations.

The Research Society has another gathering… Lumian dismissed Baynfel and moved to the window of the master bedroom.

He peered into the distance, toward the mottled mountain range to the northeast.

Under the afterglow of the setting sun, the mountains seemed to doze in the burning sky.

Lumian silently observed for a moment, then retrieved the silver Lie earring and placed it on his left earlobe.

In an instant, his hair transformed, turning golden and elongating downward.

…

At 10 p.m., in the ancient and dilapidated palace of the Nation of the Evernight, Lumian, cloaked in a black robe, hood, and a silver-white half-

mask with a "Muggle" label, materialized.

He immediately spotted Franca, who wore an Assassin suit and had pulled down her hood.

Franca, no longer concealing their amicable relationship, leaned in and lowered her voice.

"Port Santa didn't have a Derangement outbreak, I suppose?"

"I'm not the embodiment of calamity," Lumian replied.

He then said to Franca, "Help me inquire in different teams later if there are any potions, charms, or items that can allow me to master a language in a short period of time—not true mastery, but the kind that allows mastery for a short period."

Franca asked in confusion, "Don't you have a translator?"

Lumian smiled and said, "It's just that I suddenly had an idea. When everyone thinks I don't know Highlander, I can understand what they're talking about. Perhaps it can bring about unexpected gains."

Your scheming heart is truly stained! After Franca playfully cursed him, she wanted to praise Aurore's beautiful lips and smile, one that ought to be seen more often, but her rationality made her give up on the idea to avoid triggering Lumian.

She glanced at a corner of the palace and said, "The team most likely to obtain such items is actually the Academy. However, it's inconvenient for you to ask. It can easily arouse suspicion. Coincidentally, I'm heading to the Academy team today to inquire if anyone knows who the owners of the ancient tombs in Trier's catacombs are. Heh heh, many of them are considered semi-historians. If no one knows, I'll get 007 to delve into the Church's confidential information."

"Why do you ask?" Lumian raised his eyebrows.

Franca recounted how she and Jenna had obtained a new Mirror World Fragment in the catacombs.

Lumian listened attentively and scoffed.

"Aren't you guys too bold? Jenna has been inspired by your courage!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he saw 007 approaching menacingly.

-x-X-x-

Wearing a lion headgear, 007 intercepted Franca's path, gritting his teeth.

"Hidden Blade, thanks to your intel, I might be deployed on a mission right now."

"Huh?" Franca didn't quite get it.

Deployed on a mission? If you're out, who do I report problems to in Trier?

007 glanced at Muggle, standing silently beside them, and took a deep breath.

"I might head to Feynapotter as an assistant to retrieve that Sealed Artifact.

"It's Intis' loss, and it wouldn't be good for it to end up in the hands of the Feynapotter Kingdom."

"Will the Feynapotterians allow you to enforce the law in their country? Isn't transnational cooperation troublesome?" Franca roughly understood 007's concerns.

007 pondered for a moment and said, "We're still working through the process, but the Feynapotterians aren't too opposed this time. They want to eliminate the hidden dangers of the Sealed Artifact ASAP. They have precautions to take and can't spare many to surround and intercept it, so they might as well borrow our strength."

The Church of Earth Mother and the Feynapotter Kingdom need to be vigilant. Are they short on manpower? This is a problem with a single Church country. They don't have the resources like a combination of two or three Churches. Wait, that doesn't make sense. The Feynapotter Kingdom has a royal family, and Beyonders of the Church don't only follow the pathway of their deity. Lumian sensed something amiss from 007's words.

This made him feel that the hidden dangers in the Feynapotter Kingdom were no less than those in countries with multiple deities and Churches.

"Is that so…" Franca suddenly had an idea. "I have a way to ensure you don't have to be deployed!"

"What way?" 007 asked skeptically.

Franca smiled and said, "If you're on an important mission in Trier, there's no need for you to be deployed."

"Important mission…" 007 repeated in a low voice, suddenly having an ominous feeling.

Franca seized the opportunity and said, "We've located another Mirror World Fragment in an ancient tomb on the fourth level of the catacombs."

"Now, we have a lead to pursue the Mirror People in Trier. If you report it and convey that you're conducting an investigation, you likely won't end up in Feynapotter."

007 stared at Franca, dressed in an assassin suit, for a moment. He raised his hand to rub his forehead and spoke gravely, "Thanks a lot, Hidden Blade!"

Franca pretended not to catch 007's underlying message and continued, "The tomb is situated near the Crazy Mushroom Cave. Its door is wide open, and there are no conspicuous signs. Please gather information from the catacombs about its construction date, its occupants, and the ancient family it belongs to. Only then can we determine why the peculiar Mirror People entered and met their demise there."

007 took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

"You're a perfect boss for me."

All you know is to assign me missions!

Franca let out a hollow laugh and shifted the topic.

"Do you have any idea what's happening in the Crazy Mushroom Cave? Mushrooms are somehow thriving in that silent, dark, and tightly sealed place. Moreover, it seems to be the only location in the fourth-level catacombs where mushrooms grow."

007 nodded gently and replied, "I have some knowledge about that. Once upon a time, I was quite intrigued by the mushroom cave. I conducted an investigation and discovered that it was initially quite ordinary—a naturally formed cave among the ancient tombs. When the catacombs were completed, some of the ancient corpses were relocated there. Within a few weeks, it became overrun with mushrooms and sealed off."

The Beyonder powers brought about by the seal's formal formation combined with the problem of certain ancient corpses created such a Crazy Mushroom Cave? Lumian analyzed the reason thoughtfully.

Observing Muggle's attentive silence, 007 nodded courteously and turned to head towards the Sanctuary team.

Franca couldn't help but chuckle.

"He's so polite to you. If only he knew that most of his troubles and fatigue stemmed from you, his expression would be quite the sight."

Lumian chuckled in response.

"But the Mirror People situation has nothing to do with me."

As they conversed, they strolled toward the corner where the Academy team congregated.

Midway, Lumian suddenly turned to Franca.

"Do you think any member of the Research Society, especially those in Trier, might have been replaced by the Mirror People?"

"That's impossible… Don't scare me!" Franca sounded alarmed.

Lumian fought the urge to pout, not wanting to destroy his sister's beautiful image.

"What's impossible? Any Trier citizen could be replaced by the Mirror People, even if they're part of a secret organization.

"Moreover, most in the Research Society are Beyonders with a strong spirit of exploration. Their encounters with Beyonder incidents are more frequent than regular folks."

Franca nodded seriously, acknowledging the potential risk couldn't be disregarded.

"As a Review Committee member, you should liaise with Madame Hela and the others, observe discreetly," Lumian reminded her.

There lingered uncertainty about whether the Mirror People of transmigrators retained their pre-transmigration memories. If they did, they could bypass the Committee's safeguards easily. Their interactions within the Research Society could go undetected unless they caused harm, staying concealed.

"Understood," Franca responded with solemnity.

At that moment, many familiar members of Lumian's team gathered in the corner, including Professor, Associate Professor, Headmaster, Periodic Table, Bear, Griffin, and Isotope.

Some wore different disguises than before, though Lumian had grown accustomed to their diverse outfits. They were individuals who wouldn't attend a masquerade ball in the same attire twice. Regardless, their general body shape, language, and chest labels helped others accurately identify them.

After exchanging greetings, Lumian and Franca each took a seat.

After a few minutes, Franca raised her hand and said, "Is anyone selling Language Comprehension-type items? I know someone who's going overseas and wants to acquire some."

Upon hearing her request, some chuckled, while others pursed their lips. The former wanted to inquire if her friend was herself, while the latter recalled the key member of April Fool's who had caused numerous catastrophes in the Research Society.

Bear, encased in a brown bear hide, spoke in ancient Feysac in a muffled voice, "I have a Language Comprehension charm that achieves a similar effect."

"Language Comprehension charm?" Franca asked with interest.

Having been fluent in ancient Feysac for many years, she had become relatively proficient in Loen, Highlander, and other languages of the Northern Continent. However, she lacked knowledge of the Southern Continent's languages.

The Academy team member with the code name "Bear" glanced at Hidden Blade with his coffee-colored eyes.

"Yes, its essence is to temporarily strengthen and alter the Body of Heart and Mind, improving understanding, reasoning, and communication. It also imparts a portion of the corresponding language's knowledge. Using one lasts seven days.

"Currently, Language Comprehension charms are divided into three types. The lowest level is for all ancient Feysacian languages. Creating them is the least difficult. You only need…"

Bear paused, making a conversion based on the current exchange rate.

"A thousand verl d'or.

"The middle level covers all ordinary languages. It costs 2,000 verl d'or. At the highest level, you can temporarily master a designated supernatural language. 5,000 verl d'or. Hidden Blade, which one do you want?"

Franca listened attentively, sensing a subtle expression of pity and regret in Bear's gaze.

Is he pitying me for daring to drink the Witch potion back then? Franca wondered silently. Without looking at Muggle, she made the decision.

"Three lowest-level Language Comprehension charms, one mid-level. Uh, can I get a discount?"

She believed Lumian would eventually track down Hisoka in the Southern Continent. It was better to prepare a Mid-level Language Comprehension charm now.

"No." Bear shook his head.

"Alright," Franca said, lacking talent for bargaining. She habitually asked for a discount to avoid potential future regret.

After Franca paid and settled on the delivery method, Professor, adorned with a black butterfly mask, surveyed the area. After a moment of contemplation, she spoke up.

"Associate Professor, I and a few Warlocks I know have been having strange dreams lately. In these dreams, there's a wilderness with many indistinct figures wandering around."

"Have any of you had one too?"

She directed her inquiry towards the other Warlocks in the Academy team.

Wilderness… Wandering figures… Could this be related to some Madame's Paramita? Lumian, concealed behind a silver-white half-mask, furrowed his brow slightly. It seemed unlikely that a Warlock would dream of Paramita. Why would they?

Observing other Warlocks expressing that they had similar dreams, but the frequency and clarity decreased over time, Lumian, acting as Aurore, nodded and posed a question instead of providing an answer.

"When did you guys start having this dream?"

Could it be an abnormality caused by the Hidden Sage?

Professor had clearly made confirmation on this matter.

"The two of us and some friends started after the night of the terrifying storm in Trier—last month."

She knew that Muggle was also in Trier and knew the exact night she referred to.

The sudden, terrifying downpour occurred the night the Hostel ritual was activated… Could it be influenced by the leaked power of the seal? Is there a high-level power of the Mystery Pryer pathway sealed inside? Or were the fallen monks of the Deep Valley Cloister connected to the Hidden Sage? Did this evil god secretly do something that left some power in the real world? Lumian pondered and then said, "I heard something happened to Trier's Deep Valley Cloister that night, and the Savant pathway and the Mystery Pryer pathway are neighboring pathways."

Professor, Associate Professor, and the others turned their gaze to Muggle. They hadn't expected their companion, who had recently moved to Trier, to possess such secretive knowledge about the local area.

Lumian continued slowly, "Shouldn't we inquire with people from the Savant pathway and see if they had similar dreams?"

Good idea! Franca silently praised.

-x-X-x-

Dressed in a doctor's white coat with a saucepan over his head, Stonemason's azure eyes focused on the Academy Warlocks through two specially dug holes.

He nodded and said, "Recently, I've also been having strange dreams related to a wilderness. However, in addition to the endless wilderness and wandering figures, there are also some peculiar scenes in my dreams."

As expected, it affects the neighboring pathways of Mystery Pryer and Savant… Lumian nodded slightly as Professor pressed further, "What scenes are they?"

Stonemason's voice echoed within the saucepan.

"I see scenes of primitive humans independently creating fire for the first time. Ancient humans making sacrifices to the sky and land. There were many similar scenes, but they were very vague. I was in a dream and couldn't scrutinize them carefully. I can't remember the exact situations clearly.

"According to the Savant pathway's Beyonders, this is a fragment of civilization."

Upon hearing Stonemason's response, Lumian's forehead twitched imperceptibly.

It reminded him of the moment he heard a peculiar sound accompanying scenes while wearing the Mystery Prying Eye in Fourth Epoch Trier!

As the scenes unfolded, a chorus of voices echoed one name: Celestial Master!

Was what I received a fragment of a civilization? The Eye of Truth correspond to the Mystery Pryer pathway. Upon their use, they activated the powers of neighboring pathways, revealing corresponding sounds? But there is a prerequisite, a special environment… Fourth Epoch Trier holds remnants of advanced powers from the Mystery Pryer and Savant pathways. Celestial Master—the term is similar to the Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings which influences Seer, Apprentice, and Marauder pathways. Meanwhile, Celestial Master correlates with the Mystery Pryer and Savant pathways. Lumian fell into deep thought after his initial shock.

Franca glanced at him, perplexed by his limited participation in the discussion.

After a moment, Lumian snapped out of his daze. Considering Professor, Stonemason, and others' speculations, he carefully stated, "The sudden downpour in Trier is an outward manifestation of a catastrophe, much like the Deep Valley Cloister.

"I suspect that a high-level power leaked during the catastrophe, affecting Beyonders from two neighboring pathways. The impact is more pronounced for those in Trier but relatively minor for those outside."

At this point, Lumian smirked.

"I've observed that Warlocks outside Trier experienced significant decreases in the frequency and clarity of their wilderness dreams. Strangely, none of the Warlocks in Trier mentioned this."

Bear in a brown bear skin suit nodded approvingly.

Professor and others concurred with Lumian's hypothesis, relieved that the situation was indeed improving.

They couldn't help but marvel at Muggle's remarkable growth after surviving the April Fool's trap.

Franca then inquired about the owner of the ancient tomb beside the Crazy Mushroom Cave in Trier's catacombs.

Franca had already entrusted this matter to 007. Her current focus was on uncovering any Mirror People who might have infiltrated the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society, thanks to Lumian's teachings.

After discussing the Mirror People situation with Hela, Lumian emerged from the corner where the Academy team was located, ready to gather mysticism knowledge from the death domain with the Purgatory team.

Franca immediately approached Lumian, lowered her voice, and asked with a smile, "What were you thinking when Stonemason recounted his dream? It seemed like you had thought of something important."

Hadn't I shared what I saw and heard after using the Eye of Truth underground? That shouldn't be the case. I won't forget sharing matters involving the Celestial Master with Franca… Lumian's heart suddenly stirred, feeling that his spirituality was hindering this matter.

After a moment of contemplation, he responded, "It's rather complicated and involves high-level powers. I'll write to Madam Magician later and see if I can share it with you."

"Alright," Franca said eagerly. "Don't forget!"

Her curiosity was piqued.

At that moment, Hela, still dressed as a black widow, approached Lumian and asked, "Any progress in tracking Ultraman and Bard?"

"Not at the moment. I'm still compiling the necessary information," Lumian replied truthfully.

Hela nodded slightly and replied, "If you need assistance, don't hesitate to reach out to me or Gandalf."

The primary objective for most members of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society was to eliminate the April Fool's traitors.

"Got it." Lumian had no plans to confront the key members of April Fool's on his own.

Undoubtedly, it was optimal for him to carry out the final execution.

…

Upon returning to the real world, Lumian noticed that night was falling. He set out a stack of late-night snacks for Ludwig and summoned Madam Magician's messenger. After freshening up—washing his face, brushing his teeth, and snuffing out the wall lamp—he settled into bed.

Just then, a sense of alertness surged through him. He sat up suddenly, focusing on a specific spot in the room.

Outside the window, a faint crimson glow shimmered. In one corner, a shadow swiftly expanded, reaching up to the ceiling, forming a silhouette resembling two goat horns.

It was as if a devil had emerged from the dark abyss.

Lumian's eyebrows twitched as he stared at the colossal black shadow.

The devil-like shadow resonated with a deep and imposing voice.

"Lowly human, you must answer my question truthfully."

It spoke in Intisian.

Lumian cracked his neck gently and asked, "What's the question?"

The devilish figure rumbled in a deep tone, "What did the Paco family's Giorgia hire you to do?"

"What do human affairs have to do with a devil like you? I'm a professional adventurer. I won't betray my employer."

The devilish shadow growled, "Then I'll use your blood as the answer!"

Before it completed its sentence, its aura surged, and the crimson moonlight in the room instantly succumbed to darkness, shrouding the space in a chilling aura.

The corners of Lumian's mouth curled up. With a swift press of his left hand, he catapulted from the bed like a cheetah, propelling himself towards the ceiling.

Overhead, darkness enveloped him, resembling an abyssal reflection.

In a sudden twist, Lumian's body turned pitch black, almost zero in thickness.

He morphed into a shadow creature and seamlessly melded into the darkness!

Within the dimly illuminated fishnet of shadows, Lumian spotted the "devil."

Standing just over a meter tall, the creature was child-sized, yet its skin was creased like that of an elderly man in his seventies or eighties.

Its disproportionately large head featured protruding eyes, presenting a grotesque visage that was beyond Lumian's knowledge of creatures.

In the form of a shadow, Lumian "swam" toward it, aiming to ensnare the peculiar creature that manifested the devil's projection. He planned on pulling it out of the darkness and controlling it with the Spell of Harrumph.

Many of Lumian's abilities were constrained in the shadow creature form.

The short, malevolent creature with wrinkled skin appeared defenseless against the shadow's entanglement, surprising Lumian, who had anticipated fierce resistance.

Without hesitation, he prepared to depart, leaving the shadow to detain its captive.

Just then, the darkness surrounding him brightened, illuminated by the light from the "sky."

Instinctively, Lumian looked up and witnessed the pure darkness rapidly dissolving, unveiling a colossal star hanging in the void.

The star bore a faint blue hue, resembling a demonic eye.

In an instant, Lumian felt his blood freeze, involuntarily snapping out of his shadow creature form. The big-headed "shorty," adorned with wrinkles, seized the chance to break free from its constraints, swiftly merging into the pale-blue starlight and disappearing from sight.

After a moment, Lumian fully recovered. He stared at the now-normal room, sinking into contemplation.

What in the world was that thing? It seemed so weak, yet it came to intimidate me!

Nevertheless, the blinking star held an air of peculiarity.

Why not just send the star to frighten me right away? After suppressing me, it didn't seize the opportunity to attack. Even though I regained some mobility upon escaping the shadows, I was still relatively slow… Lumian mused silently.

While he couldn't grasp the full picture, certain details became apparent.

No wonder Giorgia didn't casually enlist a foreign adventurer with Beyonder powers to handle the humanoid lizard. Someone lurking in the shadows would interrogate me about the entire matter in the future. Only a renowned adventurer like Louis Berry, capable of hunting Demon Warlocks, can resist it.

Heh heh, earning 15,000 risot isn't a walk in the park…

The one in the shadows knows Louis Berry isn't weak, so they didn't dare to attack directly. Instead, they dispatched a small monster with unique abilities to intimidate me, hoping to extract information?

Why not go to Giorgia's house and ask? Their family doesn't seem to possess any superpowers…

Is this an internal conflict within the Fisheries Company and the Fisheries Guild?

Yes, it's an opportunity to interact more deeply with the Paco family and understand the core process of the sea prayer ritual…

Shaking his head, Lumian reclined on the bed and resumed his slumber.

Around 8 a.m. the next day, Lugano, who had gone out to buy breakfast, rushed back and said to Lumian, "Boss, those combat nuns are looking for you!"