2 COI

The idea hit Lumian like a bolt of lightning, but he didn't particularly fancy going through with it.

Ignoring the fact that years had flown by since the Warlock's demise and that the lifespan of owls was measly compared to humans, the sheer number of birds in the mountain was enough to make Lumian reconsider.

There were too many of the damn things!

That owl doesn't have any distinct markings… No, in the legends, there was no mention of anything specific about the owl. Naroka didn't disclose everything… We didn't inquire deeply enough... He snapped out of his thoughts and flashed a reassuring smile at Reimund.

"An owl tied to a Warlock could live for a hundred years."

As Reimund trembled with fear, he reassured him in a calm voice, "Don't fret, mon ami. This is my last resort. I do not wish to encounter a monster."

"Perhaps we should consult another old sage. Naroka may have overlooked a vital clue."

The man's tone turned seductive as he continued, "If I were a Warlock, I would not keep all my treasures with me or in my home. I would stash some away in case the Inquisition attacked me. I would not have the luxury of time to collect my belongings. When I must flee, I would be left destitute."

The Inquisition of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun was notorious for hunting down Warlocks and Witches. Their "heroic deeds" were celebrated throughout the countryside.

Reimund's face lit up with excitement as he exclaimed, "You are right!"

He said with a yearning expression, "It's a shame. Too many years have elapsed. The Church's discovered riches must have been spent ages ago."

"Mon ami, that's a dangerous thought," Lumian teased.

Undeterred, they continued their visits to Pierre-père, Naferia, and other elders of the Maury family.

Although their responses mirrored Naroka's, Lumian and Reimund, with their newfound experience, managed to extract more details.

For instance, the owl was of medium size and resembled its kind. It had a pointed beak, a feline face, brown feathers with scattered spots, brownish-yellow eyes, and black pupils…

However, it was larger than the average owl, and its eyes appeared to spin. It was not as rigid or dim-witted as its kind.

All these peculiarities made the owl seem even more sinister in their descriptions.

"Seems like we've hit a dead end," Lumian stated to Reimund as they traveled to the townsquare. "We must focus on other legends."

Reimund was not as discouraged as he had been earlier. "Agreed. But which one should we pursue?"

This fellow is so proactive and hardworking…?Lumian silently praised Reimund's enthusiasm and diligence and readied a reward for him.

He nodded and said, "Take your time and reflect on it. We shall discuss tomorrow. I shall impart combat techniques to you this afternoon."

"Marvelous!" Reimund exclaimed, overjoyed by the unforeseen instruction.

Aurore was a skilled fighter. After all, how else could she handle the savage and rough men in the village? Her younger brother was likely to be just as proficient.

After bidding farewell to Reimund Greg, Lumian veered onto the trail leading to his home.

As he walked, he spotted a group of men approaching him.

The leader was in his prime, not towering above 1.7 meters in height. He wore a white robe and had light black hair.

With a regal demeanor and decent facial features, the tip of his nose curled slightly in undisguised disgust and malice as he glared at Lumian with his blue eyes.

None other than the padre of the Eternal Blazing Sun Church in Cordu, Guillaume Bénet.

"I have been awaiting your arrival for quite some time," Guillaume Bénet bellowed in a baritone voice. "Did you deliberately bring those foreigners to the cathedral?"

Lumian attempted to explain himself as he furtively took a step back. "I thought you were sleeping inside."

He had noticed Pons Bénet—the padre's younger sibling—standing beside Guillaume Bénet. Pons was in his early thirties, muscular, domineering, and a bully.

The other individuals with them were the padre's henchmen.

Guillaume Bénet signaled Pons with a glance as Lumian retreated.

Pons Bénet's grin turned sinister as he lunged forward, bellowing,

"Rascal, eet ees time zat you learn who ees ze father here!"

Before he could complete his sentence, Pons had already hastened his steps and pounced on Lumian. The other brutes followed suit.

In Cordu, a place where logic held no sway and apologies fell on deaf ears, brute force was the only language that could command respect. Guillaume Bénet, the padre, knew this all too well, having resorted to violence countless times before. So, when he learned that the outsiders had been ushered into the cathedral by Lumian, the priest wasted no time in making his move. He was determined to get hold of the ruffian and pummel him into submission until he lay bedridden for a month. The padre was keen to show Lumian the error of his ways and wouldn't rest until someone paid the price for his insolence.

Of course, he had to avoid Aurore.

Regarding the law, he only needed to notify the administrator and the territory judge, Béost. The city sheriffs were unlikely to investigate such a minor issue in the countryside.

As an outsider, Béost would not offend a local-born padre unless there was significant conflict of interest.

Guillaume Bénet felt fortunate that the foreigners had not divulged his affair with Madame Pualis, the administrator's wife, to anyone. He was still unaware of this.

Despite their speed, Lumian was quicker. Just as Pons spoke, Lumian pivoted and dashed away.

He was familiar with the padre's character and methods.

Previously, a villager had accused Guillaume Bénet of having multiple mistresses and embezzling offerings from the Eternal Blazing Sun. He had also bullied others relentlessly in the village, hardly behaving like a man of the cloth. Subsequently, the villager had mysteriously died one afternoon.

Thud thud thud!

Lumian raced like the wind.

"Wait for your papa, eh??Attends ton père!" Pons shouted while chasing him. His pace was not sluggish either.

The thugs pursued closely behind him.

Instead of fleeing along the main road, Lumian darted into the nearest house.

The family was preparing lunch in the kitchen when they suddenly saw a stranger burst in.

With a swoosh, Lumian darted past them and leaped out of the kitchen window at the back.

By the time Pons and his cronies entered, the homeowner had regained his senses. He stood up to confront them and inquired, "What is going on? What are all of you doing?"

"Get out of ze way, old man!" Pons shoved the homeowner aside with force, but it slowed him down.

...

When they reached the window and jumped out, Lumian had already vanished into another trail.

After pursuing him for a while, they lost sight of Lumian entirely.

"Sacrebleu, ces chiens fous!" Pons spat on the roadside.

...

Outside the semi-subterranean two-story abode, Lumian gasped for breath before finally opening the door and entering the house as though nothing had happened.

"One, two, three, four; two, two, three, four…" A series of rhythmic shouts reverberated in his ears.

Lumian gazed at the empty space on the other side of the kitchen and observed Aurore's blond hair tied in a ponytail. She wore a flaxen shirt, tight white pants, and dark sheepskin boots, leaping around and drenched in sweat.

In Cordu, the kitchen occupied most of the space on the first floor, serving as the family's core. Cooking and dining occurred here, as did receiving guests.

She's exercising again…?Lumian was accustomed to Aurore's eccentricities and was unfazed by her exercise regimen.

Aurore often did strange things without giving any reason when probed.

At the very least, exercising is beneficial, and it's quite a feast for the eyes…?Lumian observed silently.

...

After a while, Aurore stopped and squatted to turn off the black tape recorder.

She took the white towel from Lumian and instructed him as she wiped the sweat from her forehead,

"Remember, we have combat practice this afternoon."

"I have to study and learn combat. Aren't you demanding too much of me?" Lumian grumbled nonchalantly.

Aurore glanced at him, smiling, and retorted, "You must remember that our objective is the comprehensive development of the five?educations1?of morality, intellect, physique, aesthetics, and labor!"

The more she spoke, the happier she became, as if recollecting something beautiful or amusing.

I have already failed moral education…

?Lumian muttered under his breath.

He queried, "What kind of combat?"

One of the things he failed to comprehend was that Aurore, who seemed delicate and frail, was an expert in combat. She mastered numerous fighting techniques and could easily overpower him.

Aurore pondered seriously, leaned forward slightly, and gazed into Lumian's eyes.

She then laughed heartily and declared, "Self-defense!"

"Huh?" Lumian exclaimed in astonishment. "Isn't that supposed to be for girls?"

Aurore stood tall and shook her head gravely, saying sincerely, "Boys must protect themselves when they are out. Who says boys don't encounter perverts?"

The smile on her lips was no longer hidden.

Lumian was unsure if his sister was joking or serious, so he remained silent as he retrieved the white towel and headed towards the stairs.

Suddenly, he felt something tighten under his foot, as if he had tripped over an obstacle. He stumbled forward.

In midair, Lumian hastily contracted his abs, extended his arm, and leaned on the chair beside him. He somersaulted and barely landed on his feet.

Aurore retracted her leg and chuckled.

"One of the fundamental combat principles is to be vigilant at all times. One cannot be complacent.

"Remember that, my novice brother?"

Her right hand had already clutched Lumian's back, but when she saw that he had regained control of his body, she let go.

"It's because I trust you too much…" Lumian grumbled.

He contemplated the matter and realized that this trust was meaningless. He had lost count of how many times he had been at the mercy of Aurore.

Aurore coughed and restrained her expression.

"How did it go with that woman?"

Lumian provided a brief summary of their conversation before declaring, "I intend to wait for your friends to respond before delving into the dream."

"Smart decision," Aurore affirmed.

Lumian changed the subject.

"What's for lunch?"

"We still have some leftover toast from this morning. I'll roast four more lamb chops for you," Aurore replied after contemplating for a moment.

"What about you?" Lumian inquired.

Aurore casually said, "I'll just have truffle bamboo chicken shreds topped with some cheese and onion soup. I tried it last time and found it to be quite…"

Before she could finish speaking, she suddenly froze.

The next moment, she raised her hands to cover her ears. The muscles on her face gradually contorted, making her appear somewhat ferocious.

Lumian observed silently, his eyes filled with anxiety and apprehension.

After a while, Aurore exhaled deeply and returned to her usual self.

Her forehead was drenched in sweat once more.

"What happened?" Lumian asked.

Aurore smiled and responded, "The ringing in my ears is acting up again. You know that I have this old problem."

Lumian didn't probe further. Instead, he said, "Alright, then I'll prepare lunch. Rest well."

Every time this occurred, his yearning for extraordinary abilities grew stronger, as it became a pressing matter.

-x-X-x-

As the night settled in, Lumian finished dealing with his neighbors who had come to borrow the oven. He made his way up to the second floor, entering the room that served as Aurore's study.

In Cordu, many folks were destitute and couldn't afford their own ovens or large stoves. When they needed to toast bread or smoke meat, they had to borrow it from others and use it on the spot.

Aurore had always been lenient and accommodating when it came to this. Anyone could borrow her oven, but they had to pay the fuel costs or bring their own coal and wood.

Currently, she had donned her white silk nightdress and was curled up in a reclining chair, her focus solely on the book she held under the bright battery-powered lamp on the desk.

Lumian didn't wish to disturb her, so he nonchalantly pulled out a thinner book from the bookshelf and took a seat in the corner.

Hidden Veil… What kind of magazine is this??Lumian pondered, gazing at the cover that was adorned with cryptic symbols.

He swiftly flipped through the pages, and the more he read, the more he was taken aback.

This magazine delved into the very existence of the human soul. It discussed how all beings had a spirit, and through secret methods of communication between different spirits, one could obtain various kinds of aid.

Even if one wasn't devout, even if they only attended the Eternal Blazing Sun cathedral to pray and partake in Mass occasionally, two words couldn't help but flash through Lumian's mind:?Sacrilege! Taboo!

As a Warlock who would undoubtedly be burned at the stake by the Inquisition if her true identity was exposed, it was customary for Aurore to have such books at her residence. However, Lumian could tell that this magazine had received the government's permission for publication!

Can such a thing be openly published?

Didn't they say that publication censorship had always been very strict?

Or is this a fake permit…?Lumian looked up at Aurore and inquired, "Is this a prohibited magazine?"

Aurore took her eyes off her book and glanced at her brother. She responded in a nonchalant tone, "In the past, it was underground fiction. Later on, for some reason, it cleared the censors and was officially published. The Eternal Blazing Sun Church actually didn't care and tacitly agreed."

"Fiction?" Lumian was taken aback by his sister's choice of words.

"Of course, it's fiction. You're not taking it seriously, are you?" Aurore laughed. "If what's written is true, do you think it can still be published? If you follow the method written on it, other than making yourself mentally weak and neurotic, there won't be any additional gains. Yes… there will occasionally be something real, but without the corresponding ritual language, it'll be a waste of effort no matter how hard you try."

This was the professional evaluation of a Warlock.

"Alright…" Lumian couldn't hide his disappointment. "I just find it strange that this can be published."

Aurore took a deep breath, her puffed-up cheeks accentuating her pondering.

"I don't know why either. Perhaps it's because the world has been seeing an influx of supernatural events lately, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to conceal them. The public is becoming more aware of their existence, and the government is slowly easing its grip on such topics. That's why books like these are being published. In Trier, Psychic, Lotus, and Arcane are the most popular magazines. I have them all on my bookshelf. If you want to come up with more realistic stories for the tavern, you should give them a read."

"Oui," Lumian responded eagerly, his interest piqued.

Simultaneously, he let out a wistful sigh deep in his heart.

Aurore's hoard of books was truly impressive and diverse!

Thanks to these tomes and Aurore's occasional elucidations, Lumian—a lad who had forsaken his schooling—had managed to acquire a reasonable comprehension of the world, continent, and nation he called home.

The world was divided into two great continents, one to the north and one to the south, separated by the treacherous Berserk Sea, where raging hurricanes battered any who dared to sail its waters. But the truly mysterious lands lay to the east and west, on the legendary Eastern and Western Continents. No one had ever set foot there, and some wondered if they even existed at all.

Lumian and Aurore lived in the Intis Republic, a land situated in the heart of the Northern Continent. It was a nation bordered by the Fog Sea to the west, the Feysac Empire to the north, and the Hornacis mountain range and the Loen Kingdom to the east. To the south lay the Feynapotter kingdom, Lenburg, and Masin.

The small countries nestled between the Feynapotter Kingdom and the Loen Kingdom, such as Segar, together with Lenburg and Masin, were collectively known as the countries of the south-central region. They shared a common faith in the God of Knowledge and Wisdom.

The Southern Continent had already fallen under the dominion of the various powers of the Northern Continent. Whether it was the Balam Empire, the Paz Kingdom, the Haagenti Kingdom, or any of the other nations, they had all but lost their autonomy. Yet still, a fierce resistance against colonization burned in the hearts of the conquered.

In addition to the Berserk Sea dividing the Northern and Southern Continents, there were other great seas: the Fog Sea to the west of the Intis Republic, the Sonia Sea to the east of the Loen Kingdom, the North Sea to the north of the Feysac Empire, and the Polar Sea to the south of the Southern Continent. They were collectively known as the Five Seas.

Of all the nations of the Northern Continent, the Loen Kingdom was the strongest, with the Intis Republic close behind. The Feysac Empire, defeated in the last war, had fallen to fourth place. The Feynapotter Kingdom had risen to third place. And among the countries of the south-central region, Lenburg reigned supreme.

Compared to the simple folk in Cordu who only knew of the Intis Republic, the Feynapotter kingdom, and Lenburg, Lumian was practically a cartographer.

It was no surprise really, considering the Cordu Village shepherds only traveled to their neighboring kingdoms of Feynapotter and Lenburg. They only had a limited understanding of these lands. The people in the northern villages of the Dariège region were just as provincial. Other than the surrounding settlements, they could only name Trier, Suhit, and a few other metropolitans.

Lumian was often baffled.?How did Aurore come by such vast knowledge?

All the textbooks he read were penned by Aurore, and all his practice exams were prepared by her. Aurore had an answer for every question in the books he read!

But what stunned him even more was her expertise in various forms of combat.

It was simply mind-boggling that a woman in her twenties could accumulate so much wisdom. Some people couldn't amass that much knowledge even after living 50 or 60 years.

Could it be that these are the building blocks of a true Warlock??Lumian looked up again and gazed at Aurore, lost in thought.

As Aurore patted her cheeks while reading, she hardly seemed like a scholar or a warlock.

Aurore caught Lumian's gaze and demanded, "What are you ogling at?"

Lumian quickly changed the subject, "Last time you mentioned that I possess the knowledge required to pass the college entrance examination?"

Aurore pondered for a moment before responding, "In theory, you could gain admission to any university, but since I never took that particular exam, I can't say for certain what questions will be asked. Roselle sure did a number on the populace. Sigh, I guess it's a good thing…"

Undoubtedly, Emperor Roselle's reign spawned the college entrance examination, and it has remained a fixture of academic life to this day.

Aurore's mind suddenly shifted gears. She shot Lumian a sly grin and inquired, "Why did you not make your usual stop at the tavern today to regale the patrons with your tales?"

"I'm not truly an alcoholic," Lumian replied while flipping through his magazine. "Reading at home is equally enjoyable."

And it helps to calm my nerves and ease my mind…?Lumian silently added.

Aurore nodded and glanced over at Lumian's spot in the corner of the room.

"Why are you sitting so far away, putting on an act of pitifulness, weakness, and helplessness?"

"Come closer. You need proper lighting to read at night, otherwise, your eyes will suffer."

Aurore sure has a way with words, Lumian mused. Although I understand the meaning behind "pitifulness," "weakness," and "helplessness," it's still an odd combination. Supposedly used to her idiosyncrasies by now, Lumian retrieved a chair and moved closer to the desk where Aurore sat.

The two of them spent the evening reading in silence, occasionally chatting, as the sound of their breathing mingled with the rustling of pages and the soft breeze that wafted in from outside the window. Peaceful and soothing.

...

As he bid Aurore goodnight, Lumian slipped back into his quarters.

He peeled off his coat and draped it across the back of the chair. He couldn't risk bringing the Wand card to bed with him; that would only raise suspicion, and his sister had sworn to keep a watchful eye on him at all times.

...

Just as he was about to approach the bed, Lumian froze, his heart skipping a beat.

His sharp eyes darted around the room, and he adjusted the chair that was usually positioned at a diagonal angle to face the window.

Then, he crawled into bed and extinguished the kerosene lamp resting on the cabinet next to him.

As he drifted off into the depths of slumber, Lumian was suddenly startled awake.

The bedroom was shrouded in a dense, gray fog.

Lumian, who was already mentally prepared, calmly took in his surroundings and made a realization.

The chair that he had meticulously arranged before retiring for the night was still positioned at an angle in his dream, just as it had been in reality in the past.

This suggested that the dream world he had entered was not an exact reflection of reality. Perhaps it was a manifestation of his deepest subconscious desires. Although Lumian couldn't decipher its meaning, he knew that it was something to be remembered.

He walked over to the window, placed his hands on the sill, and gazed out.

The mountain made of brownish-red stones and reddish-brown soil, and the collapsed buildings that surrounded it, were still present.

The eerie silence of the place was deafening.

...

Time quickly passed. After much contemplation, Lumian made a firm decision.

He would embark on a preliminary exploration of the area tonight!

His past life on the streets had turned him into a man of action.

He didn't rush downstairs, however. Instead, he opened the cabinet and began to pile on clothes.

He didn't need them to keep warm, but he wanted to increase his "defense ability" in this way.

He grabbed a cotton shirt, cotton pants, and a leather jacket, stretching his body to feel the fit. Any more clothing would only hinder his agility, and that was crucial in a situation like this.

As he adjusted to his current state, Lumian had a sudden thought.

This is my dream. Can't I get whatever I want?

With that intention, he muttered to himself, "I want a breastplate and a revolver… I want a breastplate and a revolver…"

The room was still shrouded in a thin, gray fog.

This won't do. This dream is special…?His disappointment was palpable, but he quickly regained his composure and made his way to the bedroom door. Stepping out into the corridor, he found himself in complete darkness. It was murky and dim.

Lumian pushed open the door to Aurore's bedroom and then her study. The layout was slightly different from reality, but he recognized it immediately. The biggest difference, of course, was that Aurore was nowhere to be found. The entire scene was frozen in shades of gray.

The first floor was no different.

Lumian scanned his surroundings, searching for a weapon to defend himself. He knew his home better than anyone else and quickly found two viable options.

The first was a two-meter-long fork made of steel. Aurore had said that it was effective and outstanding as long as the target didn't have a long-range weapon.

The second was a sharp, iron-black hand axe.

Ah, why not both…?Lumian couldn't help but think of Aurore's oft-repeated phrase, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

Today was all about reconnaissance. He needed to be sly, hidden in the shadows.

Lugging around a cumbersome weapon would only hinder his movements and give him away.

Taking a deep breath, Lumian stooped down to retrieve the axe.

He rose to his full height and set off towards the door, barely visible in the misty haze.

With a deft hand, he opened the door, not making a sound.

-x-X-x-

As Lumian stepped out the door, he felt as thought he was transported to another world.

Before him lay no longer the familiar Cordu, but a dark-red mountain peak and the collapsed buildings surrounding it. Together, they formed a strange ruin.

The fog in the sky was thick and pale, making it difficult for light to enter. The ground was shattered and there were many rocks. Lumian gripped his axe tightly and inched forward carefully, his heart pounding in his chest. Along the way, he couldn't find a place to hide.

There were no weeds or trees.

Lumian walked in fear, his every sense on high alert. All he could do was hunch his back and comfort himself. At the very least, if there was any danger in this area, it would be obvious at a glance. He could discover it in advance.

Finally, he arrived at the ruins, a half-collapsed building that had been wrecked by fire.

Lumian surveyed the area for a moment and tentatively confirmed that there were no other creatures lurking about. Satisfied with his assessment, he cautiously made his way inside the building, being mindful of the charred wood that could fall at any moment from midair.

As he searched the room, his eyes landed on a broken pot in the corner of the house. There was a hint of gold shining through the cracks.

Lumian approached the pot slowly and realized that it was a gold coin.

Can it be true? There's actually treasure in the ruins of my dream??He picked up the gold coin and wiped it against his body.

The patterns on the surface of the coin were revealed.

The coin featured a man's portrait carved on the front. His face was thin, and his hair was parted 30-70. There was a mustache on his lips, and his gaze was rather firm. On the back was a bunch of sweet iris flowers surrounding the number 20.

Lumian recognized the man depicted on the coin. It was none other than the first president of the Intis Republic, Levanx.

It's actually a Louis d'or…?Lumian was rather surprised.

Firstly, he couldn't believe that the currency in this strange dream ruin was actually the currency of the Intis Republic in reality. And secondly, he had casually picked up something as valuable as a Louis d'or.

He knew that in the present day, the legal currencies of the Intis Republic were verl d'or and coppet. One verl d'or was equivalent to 100 coppet.

Coppet existed in the form of copper coins and silver coins. The copper coins were divided into three categories: 1 coppet, 5 coppet, 10 coppet, while the silver coins had the denominations of 20 coppet and 50 coppet.

Verl d'or could be found in the form of silver coins, gold coins, or banknotes. In silver coins, there were denominations of 1, 5, and 10 verl d'or, while gold coins came in 5, 10, 20, 40, and 50 denominations.

The denominations of banknotes were even more varied, ranging from 5, 20, 50, 100, 200, 500, 1,000 verl d'or.

In reality, the people of Intis still clung to the old currency units. For example, the most widely used 5 coppet copper coins were known as 'lick.'

Similarly, gold coins worth 20 verl were commonly referred to as Louis d'or.

In the old currency era, Louis d'or had been known as Roselle. But after the Republic was established, the name was changed to Louis d'or in order to erase Emperor Roselle's influence.

As Lumian understood it, even in the rural area of Cordu, a Louis d'or could sustain a poor family with fields for an entire month.

He knew that without Aurore's high income, he might never have even seen what a Louis d'or looked like. In fact, in the entire village of Cordu, only the siblings and the family of the administrator had ever seen or owned a Louis d'or.

To any villager, this Louis d'or was an incredibly valuable gain.

Unfortunately, this is just a dream…?Lumian couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment.

This was something ordinary, making it unlikely he could "bring" it out of the dream.

But even so, he handled the Louis d'or with great care and respect. Having spent much of his life wandering, he knew the value of every coppet.

And he knew that one Louis d'or was equivalent to 2,000 coppet, which was equal to one gold pound in the Loen Kingdom, though slightly less. According to the papers he had read, 24 verl d'or could only be exchanged for one gold pound.

Lumian continued his search for any written information that could shed light on the ruins and their history. He wanted to see if this place corresponded to a certain location in reality, and whether a village in the Intis Republic had been "transported" into this dream world. The appearance of the Louis d'or had only fueled his curiosity.

As Lumian moved cautiously through the ruined building, his eyes fell upon a spot where a stove had once stood, now stained with a dark red color.

"Blood?" His pupils dilated as he quickly made a guess.

Immediately after, he made a judgment.

Although it wasn't fresh, it hadn't yet turned black—it looked as though it had just dripped there two or three days prior, or perhaps even more recently!

As his heart began to race, Lumian suddenly felt the light around him dim, as if something had silently blocked the light filtering through the dense fog from above!

The memory of past attacks flooded Lumian's mind like a turbulent wave, causing him to react instinctively.

Without a thought, he lunged forward and wrapped his body in midair, rolling on the ground to avoid any potential danger.

Thump!

A loud thump echoed through the air as something heavy fell behind him.

Lumian quickly rolled to the left side of the dilapidated stove, using a nearby rock to leverage himself around.

As he rose to his feet, axe at the ready, he saw an additional figure standing where he had just been moments before.

The dim light made it difficult to discern whether it was human or some kind of humanoid creature.

The figure hunched in front of Lumian was unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was a monster, with no clothes or shoes to speak of. Its skin had been peeled off, revealing the red muscles, blood vessels, and yellowed fascia beneath. Sticky liquid dripped from its body, yet it didn't fall to the ground.

It was a monster!

Its eyes seemed to be embedded in its face, and its mouth hung open with all its might, revealing uneven teeth and a long drool of saliva.

Despite all the ghost stories Lumian had fabricated in the past, he never expected to encounter such an evil spirit in real life.

Whoosh!

The stench of blood filled Lumian's nostrils as the panting of the monster filled his ears.

Instinct took over Lumian as he dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the blood-red monster's attack.

Lumian knew that he had Aurore's guidance and years of experience fighting on the streets to thank for his quick reflexes. Without them, he might not have been able to react in time.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Lumian charged after the monster that had pounced on him. With his sharp axe in hand, he swung with all his might and struck the monster in the back.

Bang!

Lumian's axe felled the monster mid-turn, sending a spray of pus and blood in every direction.

...

Without a moment's hesitation, Lumian knelt down on one knee and raised his axe again, ready to strike another blow.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Again and again, Lumian swung his axe with precision and force, each strike slicing through the monster's flesh and leaving deep, wide cracks on the back of its head, neck, and back.

Finally, the monster lay still, defeated by Lumian's fierce barrage of blows.

"Huff! Puff! You don't act as terrifyingly as you look." Lumian heaved a sigh of relief, his voice tinged with a hint of mockery.

He wiped his face with his left hand, then used it to wipe off the blood on his other hand.

"Is this monster's bodily fluids poisonous? For the time being, there's no pain of the fluids eating at me…" Lumian began to worry about another problem.

Just as Lumian mustered up his courage and was about to search the monster's body, he was caught off guard by a sudden movement. The skinless, blood-colored monster propped itself up with both hands and bounced up again, as if it were still alive.

It isn't dead yet?

Despite being slashed to such a state, it seemed that the monster was still alive.

Lumian was shocked and afraid.

...

Fear and trepidation took hold of Lumian.

If Lumian had been facing normal humans, beasts, or monsters, he would not have been so afraid, even if he couldn't defeat them. But this monster in front of him seemed unkillable, rendering Lumian's every move useless.

Taking advantage of the monster's brief disorientation, Lumian made a quick decision. He propped himself up with his feet, exerted strength on his knees, and ran wildly.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

He ran with all his might, but he could feel the monster's breath on the back of his neck, and the sound of its heavy breathing echoed in his ears.

The monster followed closely behind him.

Despite his fear, Lumian gritted his teeth and allowed his fear to push himself

to run even faster, surpassing his previous limits.

To his delight, he soon realized that the distance between him and the monster was no longer shortening.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Lumian finally reached his semi-subterranean two-story building as he pulled open the unlocked door and jumped inside.

With a loud clang, he slammed the door shut and quickly made his way to the stove, where he picked up a steel fork that was leaning against the wall.

Then he focused on the door.

But then, he heard the sound of the monster's running footsteps fading away. He waited, but the monster didn't try to slam through the door.

It knows that I'm lying in ambush here??Lumian couldn't believe that the monster had higher intelligence.

He slowly moved towards the window near the door and peeked out.

Suddenly, a face appeared on the glass—a bloody, skinless mess with uneven teeth.

Lumian froze for a moment, his heart almost stopping.

To Lumian's surprise, the monster didn't try to break the glass or attack him. Instead, it simply met his gaze.

Lumian snapped out of his daze and retreated, brandishing the long fork with both hands.

The monster left the window.

Lumian watched cautiously, observing its movements as it lingered in the light fog for a while before finally retreating back to the ruins.

Lumian was at a loss.

He had been prepared to trap the monster and make a quick escape from the dream, but the creature had simply left without attacking.

After some thought, a possibility occurred to Lumian.?Perhaps the monster is afraid to enter my house?

Yes, there's no signs of damage to the house at all…

In the dream, this is an absolutely safe place?

With this realization, Lumian felt a sense of relief wash over him.

Lumian was hit with a wave of exhaustion the next second.

The short chase had taken more out of him than an entire afternoon of combat training.

Lumian made his way upstairs to his bedroom, clutching the pitchfork and axe tightly in his hands. As he lay down on the bed, Lumian attempted to fall asleep.

...

Lumian opened his eyes, feeling disoriented and groggy.

Outside the curtains, it was still dark, and the room was shrouded in shadows.

For a moment, Lumian couldn't tell if he was still in the dream world or if he had somehow returned to reality. But then he noticed the lack of gray fog and the fact that he was wearing his pajamas, and he realized that he must have woken up.

"I woke up early because of the fright," Lumian muttered to himself, subconsciously patting the pocket of his pajamas. But when he didn't feel the weight of the Louis d'or, he felt a pang of disappointment.

It confirmed another fact—that money couldn't be brought out of the dream world!

Lumian took a deep breath and composed himself, his thoughts turning to a serious problem:

How was he supposed to deal with that unkillable monster?

While Lumian knew that he could bypass the area and enter stealthily, he also knew that this was not a long-term solution. The possibility of encountering similar monsters in the future was always there, and he couldn't afford to risk his life by being unprepared.

-x-X-x-

The azure sky was speckled with fluffy white clouds, gently blown by the spring breeze that carried with it the fragrance of the forest. White geese pecked at the lush grasses, grazing beside the meandering river. A lass, draped in a grayish-white frock, stood intently observing them with a long pole in her hand.

Her countenance was bathed in the golden sun rays, exposing her thin, downy hair. The girl's brown tresses, elegantly tied in a white cloth, revealed her youthful and lively features.

Glancing at Lumian sitting under a tree by the river, Ava Lizier scrunched her face slightly.

"Are we not here to discuss which legend is easier to investigate? Why have you turned into a stone statue reminiscent of the ones from the cathedral?"

Ava was the daughter of Guillaume Lizier, the shoemaker. Being one of the few youths in the village, she had an amiable relationship with Lumian and Reimund.

"I'm contemplating a problem," Lumian responded, still gazing at the white geese and the rippling waters.

"What problem?" inquired Reimund Greg, who was tending to Ava's flock of geese.

Lumian pondered before replying, "What if you come across a beast with a thick hide that your weapon cannot pierce, what would you do?"

"Obviously, I'd find a way to flee. The mountains are teeming with wild beasts. We need not hunt it," Ava replied, feeling that there was nothing to worry about.

Lumian grunted in disagreement.

"What if that beast is exceptionally rare, and the lords in the city adore it, and are willing to pay a hundred Louis d'or for its carcass?"

"A hundred Louis d'or, two thousand verl d'or…" Reimund breathed heavily.

He had never seen a Louis d'or before, nor had he used one. His instinct was to convert it into verl d'or first.

With such a hefty sum of money, he could start a small business in Dariège. He wouldn't have to fret over shepherding anymore.

He quickly thought and suggested, "Borrow a shotgun?"

"The beast's skin cannot be penetrated," Lumian rejected flatly.

Even though she knew the prey was just a figment of imagination, with no value in the real world, she couldn't help herself.

"Is it a powerful creature? Fierce?"

Lumian paused to consider her question.

"It's about as fierce as me."

That was all the assurance he needed to continue his hunt.

Reimund, who had been holding his breath, let out a sigh of relief. "Good. Go back to the village and round up some people. We'll surround the beast and drain its strength. Once it's down, we'll tie it up."

He knew that Lumian could fight, but that was all.

"In that case, we can only expect to get ten Louis d'or, or even less," Lumian reminded.

Ava, with her stunning lake-blue eyes, had an idea. "I've seen them hunt before. Maybe we can dig a trap and make it fall. That way, we won't have to worry about it getting back up."

Lumian nodded his approval. "That's a good idea."

Realizing that Ava and Reimund had little to offer in terms of planning, Lumian took control of the conversation.

"Which legend do you think we should target next?" he asked.

Ava shook her head. "Neither of them fit the bill. They're either centuries old or were only seen by one person, who is long dead."

Reimund agreed. "That's right."

"If you don't ask the right folks, how would you know there ain't no clues?" Lumian clicked his tongue and chuckled. "You lot don't have any grit. If you wanna give up at the first sign of trouble, you might as well be tending geese and sheep for the rest of your days."

Ava and Reimund were fuming at Lumian's words.

When it came to riling people up, Lumian was one of the best in all of Cordu.

Ava blurted out, "I don't think any of them are suitable 'cause there are more suitable ones."

"What is it?" Lumian's eyes sparked with interest.

As soon as Ava spoke, she regretted it, but she'd been planning to bring up this issue. She just didn't want to reveal it to Lumian and Reimund so easily.

After a few seconds of tense silence, she glared at Lumian.

"There's a real witch in the village."

"Who is it?" Lumian's heart tightened.

Could it be Aurore?

If Ava found out that Aurore was a Warlock, he and Aurore would have to flee Cordu and go somewhere else to avoid the Inquisition's wrath.

Ava looked around nervously and lowered her voice. "Madame Pualis."

Madame Pualis, the administrator's wife and the padre's mistress??Lumian found it hard to believe.

"Are you serious?"

If Pualis was indeed a witch, how could Lumian have missed it when he found out about the lady's affair with the padre?

"No way?" Reimund was exceptionally surprised.

Ava tiptoed and looked in the direction of the village entrance.

"I'm not certain, but Charlie, the administrator's valet, let it slip once.

"He told me that Madame Pualis is a soul messenger who can talk to the dead and help them return home. He also said that she can create secret medicines and charms."

Lumian listened intently but remained skeptical.

With magazines like Psychic, Lotus, and Hidden Veil flooding the market, it wasn't uncommon for the administrator's wife to be familiar with such terms and trick the servants and villagers.

"We should go to the cathedral and snitch," said Reimund, his eyes wide with excitement.

Lumian paused before responding, "If Charlie knows that Madame Pualis is a witch, then the administrator should know as well, right?"

...

"Oui," agreed Ava.

Lumian continued, "Madame Pualis is also the padre's mistress. If we go to the cathedral and snitch on her, we will probably be sent straight to the administrator."

"What?"

"Madame Pualis is the padre's mistress?"

Ava and Reimund were shocked.

"I saw it with my own eyes." Lumian chuckled. "Pretend you don't know. Don't tell anyone. Otherwise, you might disappear one day."

Ava and Reimund agreed in unison, their expressions unusually solemn, their fear of the padre and the witch intertwined.

"If we can confirm that Madame Pualis is a witch, we'll go to Dariège and tell the bishop at Mass," Lumian assured them.

"Oui," Reimund nodded fervently.

They had to be sure before they snitched. Otherwise, they would be in trouble if Madame Pualis was innocent.

After discussing these matters, Lumian, who didn't want to waste any time, stood up and said to Ava and Reimund, "I'm off, back to my studies. Otherwise, Aurore would be chasing me with a wooden stick. You two take care of the geese."

...

"Okay." Reimund was thrilled at the prospect of being left alone with Ava.

Ava looked displeased.

...

As Lumian approached Cordu, he began to hide his tracks, constantly paying attention to whether there was anyone nearby.

He had to be careful, especially now that the Padre and his crew were on his tail.

According to his observations, the padre, Guillaume Bénet, was not one to forgive easily.

He made his way towards Ol' Tavern, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of bells ringing in the distance.

Lumian turned to see Ryan, Leah, and Valentine approaching Naroka and the others.

The bells on Leah's veil and boots rang clearly and melodiously.

They've been wandering around the village for the past two days, chatting with people and asking questions. I don't know what they are up to…?Lumian was puzzled and a little wary.

As he thought about the deserted town square and the shepherd, Pierre Berry, who had returned to the village unexpectedly, Lumian knew that something was about to go down.

Is something about to happen in the village??He needed to speak to Aurore, his smart and knowledgeable sister, and get her opinion.

Lumian managed to sneak into Ol' Tavern and spotted the woman who had given him the tarot card sitting in her usual spot, eating.

Lumian leaned over and took a glance.

"Omelette au lard? Don't you find it a little too cloying?"

In Dariège, this dish was the go-to for ordinary folks to impress their fancy guests. Lumian, however, had his doubts about it being too greasy and heavy for city women.

The lady savored a slow bite of the golden omelet and shut her eyes to savor it.

"It's a real gem. It's got this local flavor that's just exquisite."

"You're having lunch so early?" Lumian asked, seated across from her.

The lady's light-blue eyes betrayed a hint of exhaustion as she smiled and replied, "It's breakfast."

What time is it…?Lumian didn't dare let slip his thoughts.

He scanned the nearly empty Ol' Tavern and hushed his voice.

"I saw a ruin in my dream and came across a monster."

"Oh." The lady didn't bat an eye. Her expression even held a hint of teasing mischief that Lumian couldn't quite decipher.

Lumian composed himself and recounted his tale.

"How do I vanquish this monster?"

The lady beamed and countered, "Is it dead or alive?"

"It's still kicking. I can't seem to kill it…" Lumian trailed off then answered on reflex.

He pondered in earnest for a beat before replying slowly, "I can feel it breathing. So, it's gotta be alive."

"If it's still breathing, then try harder. Lop off its head. Or pour oil and light it up. Bury it alive, even. Who knows? It might just kick the bucket," the lady suggested nonchalantly while relishing her meal. "When you've exhausted all options and still come up short, then come to me. But I'm not your nanny who'll coddle you through every little problem. If you want to learn, you've got to figure it out on your own."

She's quite the charmer…?Lumian wasn't crestfallen or dispirited. It seemed the lady was hinting that she'd lend a hand if things got truly dire. And a monster like this wasn't even worth mentioning.

But what's trivial can be a real headache…?Lumian felt a migraine coming on.

He resolved to heed the lady's advice. He'd start by trying to behead it, burn it, bury it alive, and anything else he could think of.

-x-X-x-

As Lumian left Ol' Tavern, he resumed his surreptitious ways, skulking down the path he always took home.

Sure enough, he spotted one of Pons Bénet's goons hiding behind a tree, spying on passersby.

The padre doesn't know when to quit…?Lumian muttered to himself.

But Lumian couldn't retaliate.

His personal abilities were limited, and he couldn't risk bringing attention from the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun in the Dariège region. The Inquisition would be all over him in a heartbeat, which could spell doom for Aurore.

Unless Lumian was pushed to the brink and had no other choice but to abandon the town, his only option was to expose the padre's unsavory activities and force him to retire to a cloister.

But that was easier said than done. Lumian needed to be careful and cunning, just like when he let the foreigners discover the padre's affair with Madame Pualis.

Lumian didn't want to make a big fuss about it. He knew that Béost, the administrator and territorial judge, was a stickler for his reputation. If Lumian brought Madame Pualis's predicament to light, he wouldn't get any favors in return. No, it would be more likely that Béost would turn on him, filled with bile and vitriol.

That would leave Lumian with little choice but to flee Cordu, with both the padre and administrator hot on his heels.

He proceeded with caution, taking a detour through a narrow alley that weaved between several houses.

Along the way, Lumian relied on his wits and the surroundings to conceal himself. He ducked behind walls, slipped through doors, and took refuge behind trees whenever necessary. As he neared the end of the alley, he heard the sound of voices.

"Guillaume, why we waste our time chasing zat keed all day? Let's go to Aurore's house tonight and catch him. We 'ave ze advantage of numbers, and Aurore's fightin' skills ain't enough to stop us. We can even get reinforcements from ze city if needed."

Guillaume… The padre is here too…?Lumian stopped, retreating into the corner to eavesdrop on their conversation to see what plans the padre had for him.

Guillaume Bénet's voice was mesmerizing.

"Surely, you don't think that's the extent of Aurore's capabilities? I wouldn't be surprised if she had supernatural abilities beyond mine."

"Ah…" Pons Bénet was obviously surprised. "A witch, you say? Guillaume, maybe it's time for you to venture to Dariège and seek out ze Inquisition. If you can catch a true witch, ze Church will undoubtedly grant you a great reward. And wiz zat, you may finally attain ze extraordinary strength you've been yearnin' for all zese years."

"Imbecile," Guillaume Bénet scolded his brother. "Don't you know what's happening in this village? The Inquisition has noses like hounds. They won't overlook any anomalies. When the time comes, we'll be in hot water."

"Even if Aurore desires to deal with us, I have other solutions," he said. "We mustn't arouse the Inquisition's attention."

So, what is happening in the village now??Lumian took this seriously and was curious.

Combining his observations of abnormalities, he sensed that something terrible was brewing and developing in the village, like a turbulent undercurrent under the calm sea.

To Lumian's dismay, Pons Bénet didn't elaborate on the topic. Instead, he focused on something else.

"Do you 'ave any way to deal wiz a Witch?"

"You don't need to know," the padre, Guillaume Bénet, responded in a hushed tone. "Next, we can put aside dealing with Lumian, but we still have to maintain appearances. We can't let anyone suspect my desire for revenge. That will provide the connections the foreigners need and have a negative impact. What you need to do now is to remind each relevant person and scare those yokels who might notice. Don't let them spill the beans in front of those foreigners."

"Guillaume, you mean zat zose foreigners are 'ere to investigate zat matter?" Pons Bénet appeared fearful and concerned.

Look at you. All brawn, no brains. You're nothing like your brother, a natural-born leader…?Lumian mocked Pons Bénet inwardly.

Despite his disdain for the padre, whom he saw as a crude and greedy stallion rather than a man of the cloth, Lumian couldn't deny that he had a certain rugged charm. His direct, domineering style and clear mind won over the masses in the countryside, making it easy for them to idolize and rely on him.

Guillaume Bénet sneered.

"No need to worry. So long as those foreigners don't find any real evidence, I'll still be the padre of Cordu.

"Pons, you need to understand that ruling through fear and intimidation won't lead to peace or prosperity. The Church doesn't want a ruined town that can't pay taxes. We need friends and followers to maintain control. By offering them protection, we can gain their support.

"The Church trusts us locals with our relatives, friends, and followers to handle matters here and doesn't bring in outsiders who could make a mess. As long as there's no solid evidence, the higher-ups will continue to believe in me.

"Alright, I'm off to the cathedral."

That does sound logical and persuasive, but your wisdom and insight are limited to Dariège… Aurore told me that when the Church confronts villages that are overrun with evil gods, they obliterate them entirely and raze the land to the ground. They don't just slay the adults, but even the kids…?Lumian found himself almost swayed by Guillaume Bénet's words. Luckily, Aurore had warned him about the fearsome reputation of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun and the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery.

After the padre departed, Lumian took a different path and made it back home unscathed.

Aurore, clad in a pristine apron, bustled about the oven.

"What are you up to?" Lumian inquired with curiosity.

It was still two hours to lunchtime.

Aurore tucked a strand of her blonde locks behind her ear and beamed, "Trying out a new toast recipe. Rice bread."

"You don't have to go through all this trouble…" Lumian was moved to his core.

He believed Aurore was going out of her way to make something special just for him.

Aurore giggled and retorted, "What are you thinking? Can you be any more self-absorbed?"

"For me, baking is a form of amusement. It's a great way to pass the time. You get it?"

"Then why don't you like going out? There's plenty of fun out there," Lumian probed. He always felt Aurore was a homebody because she was too concerned about the risks her Warlock status posed.

Aurore swiveled her head and shot him a withering glare.

"You mean drinking and gambling?

"Remember, I'm my own person, not relying on or attaching to others."

Lumian grasped the first half of her statement but was at a loss with the latter.

"Ah? Could you expound on that?"

Aurore gave him a deadly glare.

"Long story short, your sis is a major introvert most of the time!"

"What do you mean by most of the time?" Lumian queried, confused.

"Humans are walking contradictions," Aurore mused, turning back to the oven. "Don't you recall? Sometimes, I'm a chatterbox, eager to venture out and listen to the old ladies' gossip. Other times, I'll play with the kids and regale them with tales. Every so often, I'll cut loose and ride Madame Pualis' horse around the mountains, hollering at the top of my lungs."

At the time, you shone like a dew-kissed rose, luring people in only to prick them… Lumian couldn't help but grumble to himself.

Since Madame Pualis was mentioned, Lumian decided to change the subject.

...

"Aurore, uh, Grande Soeur, I heard a rumor about Madame Pualis."

"What is it?" Aurore did not hide her curiosity.

"She's a Warlock who can talk to the dead…" Lumian related to his sister what Ava had divulged. He also brought up the anomaly he'd observed and Guillaume Bénet's comments.

Aurore halted her work and listened to her brother's account intently.

Her mien grew noticeably graver.

After Lumian had finished, Aurore offered him a smile and assuaged his fears.

"Don't fret too much. Those three foreigners must be here for something that the padre and his comrades did in secret. It might have to do with Madame Pualis.

"Don't mess with Madame Pualis for now. I'll keep an eye on them.

"Explore the village more, mingle with those foreigners, and try to suss out what's going on. Heh heh, compared to that, the lady who gave you the Wand card is far more intriguing.

"If things do deteriorate, we must contemplate departing Cordu. We can start making arrangements now."

"Okay." Lumian nodded in agreement.

...

After a brief silence, he inquired curiously, "Aurore, if we must depart Cordu, where do you envision moving to?"

"Trier!" Aurore declared without hesitation.

Trier was the capital of the Intis Republic, the apex of culture and art across the continent.

"Why?" Despite considering Trier himself, Lumian posed the question casually.

Every Intisian coveted a chance to visit Trier.

In the eyes of the Triers, there were only two types of individuals in Intis: Triers and outsiders.

Aurore responded nonchalantly, "A prophet once said, 'As long as Trier endures, mirth and glee will never?falter1.'"

-x-X-x-

It was the dead of night, and all was quiet.

Lumian stirred in his dream once more. The first thing he glimpsed was a faint gray mist.

On impulse, he reached into his shirt pocket with his hand.

The frigid sensation of cold, hard metal immediately registered in his mind.

He retrieved the object he'd felt. A glint of gold illuminated his eyes.

It was a gold coin.

A Louis d'or.

It's still here…?Lumian sat up and peered down at himself.

He still donned the cotton attire, pants, and leather jacket from his last expedition. The nearly two-meter-long steel pitchfork and sharp, iron-black axe rested within arm's reach.

This was precisely the same condition as when he'd exited the dream.

In other words, this dream is persistent. It doesn't reset with each entry…?Lumian fiddled with the Louis d'or and slipped it into his cotton shirt's inner pocket.

Though it couldn't be actualized, it was still a joy to have.

Lumian rose from bed and gazed out the window for a spell, ensuring the red mountain peak in the ruins hadn't changed.

He hoisted his axe and pitchfork, departed his chamber, and entered the dimly lit corridor.

Aurore's bedroom and study doors remained ajar.

Lumian studied them briefly, then suddenly conceived an idea.

In the dream, my room is practically identical to reality. It contains all the expected elements. Aurore's room appears the same at first glance.

However, can I locate her witchcraft notebook, secret potion formula, or learn how to become a Warlock in her quarters?

This notion was akin to a devil's whisper, causing Lumian's heart to race. He was tempted to try.

Compared to exploring the unknown, hazardous, enigmatic ruins, sifting through Aurore's room was the simpler, safer option.

No, no!?Lumian shook his head vigorously and cast the idea aside.

He'd rather take his chances than violate Aurore's privacy. He wouldn't venture into her bedroom without her approval.

This was due to his respect for Aurore.

If it weren't for Aurore, he would have perished as a child on the streets five years ago.

Lumian withdrew his pained gaze and made his way to the stairs.

If the occupant of the room wasn't Aurore, he would have already delved in to search for useful information.

Once downstairs, Lumian didn't hasten his departure. Instead, he inspected the provisions in the kitchen.

The olive oil, corn oil, and animal fat that Aurore had amassed were neatly arranged in buckets and cans, just like in reality.

Almost instinctively, Lumian lifted the bucket of corn oil and positioned it near the stove.

His sole reason for selecting it was that animal fat and olive oil were pricier.

Then he adeptly kindled a blaze in the hearth with coal and wood, and fashioned a couple of torches to ignite.

He was preparing to incinerate that monster.

Naturally, it would be preferable if there were other options. That was a last resort.

After completing these tasks, he retrieved his axe, opened the door, and departed.

Lumian then observed something unusual.

The faint gray mist that suffused the dream felt more humid than before. The ground beneath his feet was also slightly muddy.

It rained? This place persists and develops naturally according to certain laws when I'm absent or dreaming??Lumian was somewhat taken aback, but he had an inkling that it was only fitting.

Recalling Aurore's bizarre tales, he suddenly had a notion.

This can't be the real world, can it?

My dream is connected to the genuine world. That tarot card enables me to traverse the barrier between dream and the ruins while conscious?

Lumian swiftly surveyed his surroundings and realized that an endless gray fog bordered both sides of the ruins, on the dream's periphery.

I'll check later. I won't venture into the ruins. I'll stroll out of the gray fog and see if it's a surreal and irrational dream after passing through the gray fog, or if there's tangible land, sky, village, and town…

If it were the former, it signified that this place was still a dream. If it wasn't, Lumian had to confirm which world this was.

He surmised that based on the usage of the Louis d'or, this place still appeared to be in the Intis Republic, but it might not be the present era. It could be a location that had vanished decades or centuries ago.

However, Lumian sensed that there was a high likelihood that he wouldn't be able to exit the encompassing gray fog.

He gathered his thoughts and proceeded toward the ruins.

He didn't forget that the purpose of entering the dream was to attempt to contend with that monster.

After traversing a hundred to two hundred meters in the muddy wilderness riddled with gravel and crevices, Lumian abruptly halted.

He thought of a problem.

He'd overlooked something in his preparations earlier!

Previously, his two-story abode lacked any flames. It was quite secure in this world cloaked in gray fog. But now, it had a blazing furnace that emitted light. Would it draw in a swarm of monsters and render the safe zone unsafe?

Lumian instinctively turned his head and peered in the direction he'd come from. He observed that a scarlet gleam had been etched on various glass windows at the base of the half-submerged two-story structure in the faint gray mist.

It was akin to a beacon in the dark world.

...

Considering that a considerable amount of time had elapsed, it was evidently too late to attempt to extinguish the fire. Lumian hastened his pace and entered the ruins, taking refuge in the building that had crumbled due to a conflagration.

He clipped the axe to the back of his belt and agilely scaled a wall, concealing himself in a shadowy nook separated by bricks and timber.

Lumian gazed at his home on the other side of the wilderness.

As time ticked by, he didn't witness any monsters lured by the fire.

Seems like the fire won't trigger any changes. At the very least, my house won't be besieged by monsters…?Lumian breathed a sigh of relief.

This meant that even if he encountered any peril, as long as he could flee home promptly and slumber as soon as possible, he could successfully elude it.

He began to contemplate how to entice and eliminate the previous monster.

From their brief skirmish, he'd deduced that its strength, speed, reaction time, and agility were similar to his, but he could sense that it fought on instinct. It lacked sufficient experience, expertise, or corresponding intelligence. That's why he'd been able to counter and slay it when it ambushed him…

It'll also be bewildered and taken aback. It's not dissimilar to humans…

Other than combat techniques, I have two other advantages over it. Firstly, I possess superior intelligence. Secondly, I know how to wield weapons and utilize tools. This is the greatest advantage humans possess over such monsters…

As long as I'm cautious, defeating it again won't be arduous. The most crucial aspect is how to eradicate it completely…

...

Just as Lumian was about to deliberately stir up some commotion to see if he could lure over some monster, he spied a figure stealthily approaching the utterly ruined house on the side.

The figure was crimson and devoid of skin. Its muscles, blood vessels, and fascia were exposed. It was the monster from last time.

Unlike before, this monster was wielding a manure fork.

A manure fork!

It knows how to wield weapons too... Lumian's countenance stiffened as his expression turned grim.

Unwittingly, his confidence waned a bit.

As the monster drew closer and turned, Lumian perceived exaggerated wounds on its back, neck, and the nape of its neck. However, the fissures were no longer oozing pus, and it appeared to have mostly mended.

It's indeed the one I encountered previously…

Its self-healing ability is many times superior to that of ordinary humans…

Lumian gasped soundlessly.

He compelled himself to compose and expeditiously assessed the situation.

In the twinkling of an eye, Lumian arrived at a determination.

This was a prime opportunity, and he had to seize it when he encountered it. He couldn't let it slip by!

He silently retrieved a stone brick beside him and awaited the monster's arrival at the desired location.

In just a few strides, the monster entered Lumian's kill zone.

Lumian abruptly hurled the stone brick at the ground behind the monster.

Thud!

The stone brick clattered, causing the monster to swivel around and scrutinize the assailant.

Upon beholding this, Lumian seized the axe with both hands and pounced fiercely from the wall towards the monster.

Bang!

The axe descended heavily onto the monster's neck, cleaving it in two.

With twin thuds, Lumian and the monster plummeted to the ground simultaneously.

Lumian sprang up nimbly, seized his axe, and darted over, delivering weighty slashes to the monster's neck.

Once, twice, thrice. The monster didn't even get a chance to resist before its head was lopped off.

As the head rolled aside, the skinless body convulsed twice and ceased movement.

Lumian didn't halt there. He took a diagonal step, rotated his axe, and pulverized the vicious head with its thick back, reducing it to fragments.

Subsequently, he pivoted and hacked at the exposed muscles, blood vessels, and fascia, crushing the heart and other vital organs.

After accomplishing all of this, Lumian took two paces backward and surveyed his handiwork. He panted and chuckled softly.

"I thought you were truly invincible. Who'd have thought you possessed so little ability!"

Amidst the subdued laughter, the decapitated cadaver abruptly jolted upward.

Lumian's pupils contracted, and he instinctively wished to pivot and flee.

He forcefully quelled this impulse and strode forward once more, brandishing his axe.

After the corpse bounced twice, it reverted to immobility, as if it had writhed in vain.

Lumian scrutinized it a while longer and ultimately verified that the monster was wholly deceased.

How tenacious... Lumian sighed inwardly. Then, he leaned over and crouched down. He employed his axe to pry open the muscles and fascias and scrutinized the corpse.

The monster's bodily structure wasn't dissimilar to a human's, but its muscles were evidently more animated. Even though it was already dead, some of its incisions were still wriggling slightly.

There's no treasure, nor is there any supernatural power transferred into my body…?Lumian assessed his present state and felt somewhat disenchanted.

The adage that one grows stronger with each monster they slay indeed only existed in Aurore's tales.

He then relocated the monster's corpse and head into the ruined building and entombed them with bricks and timber.

Subsequently, he scoured the burnt-down house, hoping to discover something.

-x-X-x-

After a bout of searching, Lumian stumbled upon a considerable number of gold coins, silver coins, and copper coins. In total, there were 197 verl d'or and 25 coppet.

Among them, Louis d'or alone constituted five.

As for the paper bills, he only discovered some suspected remnants.

Aside from money, Lumian also discovered a small blue book.

The book had a grayish-blue cover and measured approximately 21 by 28.5 centimeters, a typical size found in Intis villages and towns.

It was based on the calendar and blended with the religious teachings of the two major Churches. It had a rather positive effect on guiding farmers and herders to farm, produce, and graze to enrich their spiritual lives.

Naturally, even though it had been nearly two centuries since Emperor Roselle advocated compulsory education, there were still a large number of farmers, herdsmen, and workers who knew no more than a handful of words and were illiterate. They could only rely on the explanations of certain people around them to obtain the instructions they needed from the blue book, literally known as livre bleu.

Lumian flipped through a few pages nonchalantly and realized that the livre bleu was no different from his own. It was just that it appeared a little older overall.

There's the livre bleu and so much verl d'or; this family is undoubtedly well-to-do in the countryside. There aren't more than five such families in Cordu… Lumian discarded the livre bleu and placed the gold coins, silver coins, and copper coins into different pockets. Some were stashed deep in the cotton shirt's pocket, some were tucked into his pants pocket, and some were haphazardly stuffed into the pocket of his leather jacket.

Even though Lumian knew that this wealth couldn't be brought to reality, he couldn't resist collecting it for safekeeping.

These little trinkets of gold, silver, or copper were simply irresistible.

During his days as a vagrant, he cherished every coin he came across, even if it was just a coppet or a lick. He often fought with others for them and took risks to obtain them.

After scouting the area, Lumian hoisted his axe and crept towards the collapsed building closer to the reddish-brown mountain peak.

He proceeded deeper and deeper. Every time he traversed the empty space in the center of the ring, he was apprehensive that dozens of monsters would suddenly ambush him in an area without cover.

In the faint gray fog, Lumian crouched down and sneaked behind a half-collapsed stone wall. He squatted there and utilized it to conceal his form.

He cautiously poked his head out and surveyed the area ahead.

It was a narrow strip between two rows of destroyed buildings. There were no trees, no weeds, just gravel, crevices, and dirt.

Suddenly, a figure jumped into Lumian's line of sight.

It stood in the opposing building, staring at something.

This figure was garbed in a black robe with a hood. From the back, there was nothing peculiar. It appeared to be an ordinary human.

Lumian's heart constricted as he became even more watchful.

In such a dream ruin, the appearance of a regular person was far more terrifying than the appearance of a monster!

As if sensing that someone was observing him, the figure swiveled around slowly.

Lumian snuck a quick glance before retracting his head hastily. He leaned against the wall and didn't dare to budge.

With just one look, he had the impression that he had descended into hell or an abyss.

The figure was indeed a human, but 'he' had three faces and six eyes!

The face in front had cloudy eyes, sparse eyebrows, and numerous wrinkles. He was evidently an old man.

The left side was a chiseled face with sharp-looking blue eyes and a thick, black beard, making him appear like a burly man.

The skin on the right side was smooth and delicate, like a peeled egg. The blue eyes exuded obvious innocence and ignorance. It didn't seem a day over five years of age.

What kind of monster is this… Lumian attempted to regulate his breathing to prevent his heart from racing.

Such a monster had never surfaced, even in Aurore's horror tales. Only in the deepest and most absurd nightmares could it be encountered.

Although it was not good to judge a 'person' by their appearance, Lumian instinctively sensed that the three-faced monster was far more powerful than the skinless monster from earlier!

Furthermore, there was a high probability that it had exceptional abilities.

Eternal Blazing Sun. Great Father, please protect me from being discovered by it… Upon witnessing this scene, Lumian couldn't help but pray to the Eternal Blazing Sun.

If he weren't still clutching an axe in one hand and was in a perilous environment, he would have extended his arms, a gesture symbolizing the adoration of the sun.

At that moment, time appeared to stand still. Lumian believed he might be hallucinating.

It was as if someone's stare pierced through the wall and landed on his back.

His back stiffened instantly and felt somewhat warm.

In just a second or two, the illusion vanished, and heavy footsteps receded into the distance.

Lumian waited a while until the footsteps dissipated completely. Then, he gradually straightened his knees, turned around, and poked his head out to survey the area ahead.

The monster was farther away, having arrived behind the collapsed building whose two sides still stood. Half of its body was visible in the faint gray mist.

It still had his back to Lumian, as though it had transformed into a statue.

Lumian breathed a sigh of relief.

He didn't have the confidence to confront such a monster.

It's definitely impossible to venture deeper into the ruins from here… Should I circumvent it?

Won't there be comparable monsters elsewhere?

The closer I approach that mountain peak, the more potent the monsters that emerge?

Lumian retracted his body and deliberated for a while before deciding to conclude the night.

He intended to inquire with the woman who gave him the tarot card after daybreak to see if there was a means of dealing with the three-faced monster. If there was no alternative, he would consider taking a detour.

He arched his back, detached from the wall, and headed in the direction he came from.

At that moment, he had a notion.

If I slumber in these ruins, will I be able to escape the dream?

Considering the possibility of numerous monsters in the vicinity, he suppressed the urge to experiment, for now.

On the way back, he hastily searched every destroyed building he passed, but he couldn't unearth any useful written information. There were only a few coins.

After retreating for a while, Lumian conceived a notion and decided to take a detour. He approached the burnt-out house that he encountered first from the side, where he had buried the skinless monster.

He wanted to see if the monster's demise would be detected by its kin and if it would result in any changes.

After locating the spot and concealing himself, Lumian poked his head out from the side and scrutinized the target area.

In the following moment, he caught sight of another "figure."

The figure was half-human and half-beast. Its legs were bent forward as it squatted there and inspected the skinless monster's cadaver.

It had already removed the stone bricks and wooden blocks that Lumian had stacked.

It wore a dark jacket and relatively snug muddy pants. Its black hair that hung to its neck was unkempt and greasy, and it carried a shotgun on its back.

A shotgun!

Lumian averted his gaze hastily and withdrew his head.

These monsters are truly absurd!

They actually know how to wield a shotgun…

At that moment, Lumian felt like he was a hunter, hunting in the mountains with his weapon and comrades, only to discover that the rabbit opposite him was clutching a water-cooled machine gun and targeting them. He considered it ridiculous and immersion-breaking, as well as disappointing.

As time elapsed, he waited patiently for the monster with the shotgun to depart.

Finally, he discerned a faint sound of movement, gradually receding.

Lumian stuck his head out cautiously once again and examined the monster that was half-human and half-beast.

"It" moved like a cat towards the back of the building.

Initially, Lumian's heart eased, but then his eyes widened.

He realized that the path the monster took was precisely the same as the route he took when he ventured deep into the ruins!

It's tracking me!

It has an extraordinary tracking ability!

Lumian made a subconscious evaluation.

He was exceedingly grateful that he had opted for a detour when he returned. Otherwise, he would have certainly collided with it and might have even been ambushed!

As soon as the monster vanished, Lumian sprang up and dashed towards his house.

The crimson fire that reflected in the glass window on the ground floor of the house was akin to sunlight that could dispel darkness.

Lumian sprinted all the way to his two-story building, yanked open the unlatched door, and rushed inside.

After locking the door, he gazed at the ruins through the window.

Far from the gray mist, at the edge of the ruins, there stood a faint figure, but it didn't approach.

Phew. Lumian exhaled and planned to extinguish the fire, ascend upstairs to slumber, and exit the dream.

He glanced at the still-burning fire and murmured to himself, It can still burn for a while… I can experiment and see if it continues to burn until it extinguishes after I depart the dream, or if it is frozen in time the moment I leave…

Lumian had previously verified through the rain that the wilderness where the ruins were located was undergoing natural development. It had nothing to do with whether he was dreaming or not, but whether the same situation was transpiring in his house or the so-called safe zone remained to be verified.

He acted on his notion. He added a few more coals to the fire and fiddled with them. Then, he carried the axe and steel fork to the second floor and entered the bedroom.

...

When Lumian arose, it was just after daybreak.

He inspected his shirt-like pajamas. As anticipated, he was disheartened to discover that the gold coins, silver coins, and copper coins did not accompany him into reality.

Lumian exited the bed and stretched his body. He sauntered to the desk and extended his hand to draw the curtains.

Amidst the sound, a mild and refreshing radiance trickled in.

As the window opened, fresh and organic air invaded Lumian's nostrils. He couldn't help but extend himself, feeling that waking up early was quite pleasant at times.

Of course, this was also owing to the "Patriotic Public Health Campaign" that Emperor Roselle had launched. It was also thanks to the subsequent rulers who had preserved it and only altered its name.

He surveyed his surroundings, sometimes gazing at the far-off forest, sometimes scrutinizing the orange-red clouds in the sky, and sometimes observing the weeds outside the house.

Suddenly, Lumian's stare froze.

He spied a larger bird perched on an elm tree not far away.

It had a pointed beak, a feline face, brown feathers with scattered spots, brownish-yellow eyes combined with black pupils, giving it a sharp appearance.

It was an owl.

It appeared to be observing Lumian.

-x-X-x-

That owl?

That owl from the Warlock legend?

His mind raced with possibilities, trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation. His blood seemed to freeze.

It was worse than facing the three-faced monster.

After all, this was no longer a dream. This was reality.

Even if his demise in a dream led to the same in reality, it was different psychologically.

What should I do?

Will Aurore be implicated?

…

As Lumian racked his brain for a countermeasure, the owl remained still, observing him with a piercing gaze.

After a few seconds, the owl spread its wings and flew towards the distant forest.

Its graceful glide carried it down, down, until it vanished into Cordu.

Only when the owl had completely vanished did Lumian's mind snap back to the present.

He slumped into a chair and lifted a hand to his forehead.

He was drenched in sweat.

Is it truly the owl of the Warlock legend?

Has it truly lived for so many years?

In any case, it was unlike any other owl with dull eyes. It almost looked human…

If it's really that owl, why did it choose to fly just outside my window? Is it because I want to uncover the truth about the Warlock legend? But we've already given up…

It left after a few moments of observation…

I wonder if it will return and cause trouble for Aurore…

Despite wanting to observe the situation further since nothing had happened yet, Lumian knew he couldn't keep it from his sister any longer.

After leaving the room, he saw that Aurore was still asleep. He went downstairs to prepare breakfast, all of which were his sister's favorite dishes.

Sunny-side up, meringue cookies, ordinary toast with jam…

I have to make noodles later. This time, I'll add meat sauce… Lumian mentally noted that the noodle compartment was empty and decided to refill it some time in the next two days.

It was Aurore's favorite dish.

Aurore descended the staircase in a flowing nightgown, her golden locks tousled. The breakfast spread was readied.

"Morning," she mumbled, stifling a yawn.

Lumian grinned at her. "It's not getting early.

"Don't you always say a day's planning starts early in the morning?"

"That's right. My plan is to sleep." Aurore settled into her seat and tucked into her breakfast with a glass of milk.

Lumian sat across from Aurore At the table that could fit six. As he nibbled on a pancake, he casually said, "I've been in the village for the past few days trying to find out the truth about those legends."

"Why?" Aurore asked.

Lumian was very frank.

"You didn't want to help me get supernatural powers, so I decided to find my own way. Those legends might contain clues."

"It's almost impossible," Aurore commented, her tone casual. "The legends have been twisted beyond recognition over the years. Or hallucinated by some loony. It's meaningless. Yes, it's also possible that someone specially made up a story as an excuse. Heh heh, and the contributions of rubberneckers like you."

"What?" Lumian didn't understand what Aurore meant by 'rubbernecker.'

It wasn't even Intisian.

"It means people who can't help but get involved in drama they have no business in," Aurore explained simply. "And judging by how you are suddenly raising this matter, I'm guessing you've caused some trouble and now have no choice but to come home to ask your sister for help."

"It can be considered an accident, but it's not to the extent of causing trouble," Lumian said, undaunted.

Lumian organized his thoughts carefully.

"My first target was the Warlock legend."

"What Warlock legend?" Aurore's confusion was palpable.

Lumian couldn't believe it. "You've never heard of it? A long time ago, a person in the village suddenly died. When he was buried, an owl flew over and stopped by his bed. It only flew away when the corpse was lifted. After that, the corpse became very heavy. It took nine bulls to pull the coffin. Only then did the villagers know that the person was a Warlock when he was alive."

Aurore was listening intently.

"I really wasn't aware of such a legend before."

It doesn't make sense… Lumian was incredulous.

Aurore may have been a homebody, but she still made time to socialize with the other old ladies in town. She loved telling stories to the children and was always up-to-date on the latest Cordu gossip. It was hard to believe she hadn't heard about the Warlock legend that had been circulating for years.

But what was even more intriguing was the fact that her house was built on the very spot where the Warlock's home once stood.

Lumian had a hunch from the start that Aurore's decision to settle in Cordu was driven by the allure of the Warlock's treasure, the key to unlocking extraordinary power.

"And then?" Aurore asked calmly.

Lumian answered truthfully, "We did some digging around, and we got confirmation from the village elders. This wasn't some tall tale. The Warlock really did exist, but that was decades ago. The Church burned the house down, and now the land belongs to you."

"Is that so?" Aurore was obviously a little surprised. "I knew it. There's always a catch. Why else would they sell me this land at a price lower than the norm? I thought it was because of my gift of gab, when it came to old ladies…"

She thought for a moment and asked, "So, the Church burned the Warlock's body?"

...

Lumian nodded. "Yes. His ashes are buried in the cemetery beside the cathedral."

He continued, "We've given up on this matter because all the clues led to a dead end. But this morning, I saw an owl outside my window. It looked just like the one in the legend."

Aurore's expression became serious. "Are you certain?"

"I can't say for sure, but it didn't look like any ordinary owl," Lumian responded objectively.

Aurore pondered for a moment before saying slowly, "Don't leave the village for now. And after dark, don't step outside until I've finished investigating the situation."

She gave a sour smile. "I've warned you before about the dangers of seeking supernatural power. But look, trouble has already found you.

"Fortunately, it seems that the other party doesn't have any malicious intentions. The problem should be resolved relatively easily."

I'm glad you're on guard… Lumian lowered his head and said straightforwardly, "Grande Soeur, I was wrong."

He changed the subject.

"Did your pen pals write back?"

"How can it be that fast? It's not like we're sending e— Uh, post!" Aurore scoffed.

...

Lumian was puzzled. Isn't post already referring to letters and packages sent through the post office?

He was not too concerned. After all, Aurore often used strange words.

…

At the entrance of Ol' Tavern.

Lumian stood there and surveyed the area.

He knew that the woman who had given him the tarot card wouldn't be awake yet, so he was looking for the three foreigners: Ryan, Leah, and Valentine.

As expected, the trio was enjoying a lavish breakfast at a table inside the tavern.

Lumian observed them for a few seconds, taking in the spread of trout rolls, wine, and mayonnaise bread, before leaving without disturbing them.

Some time later, as Ryan and the others prepared to continue strolling around Cordu and "chatting" with the locals,

Lumian approached them with open arms and a bright smile.

"Good morning, my cabbages."

Valentine's face twitched, and between Ryan and Leah, one looked slightly embarrassed while the other looked amused.

Uh, they're dressed exactly the same… Did they not bring many changes of clothes despite being out? Lumian noticed that Leah was still clad in a snug pleated cashmere dress, a small white coat, and a pair of Marseillan boots, each adorned with a small silver bell. Her veil which doubled as a hat also had bells attached to it. Ryan was still sporting a drab duffel coat and pale yellow strides, topped with a rough dark bowler hat.

And Valentine still had powdered hair and makeup on his face.

"Good morning, Lumian. What brings you here?" Ryan asked calmly.

Lumian looked aggrieved as he responded, "Well, you guys are my friends, and I have nothing to do. I thought I'd come visit."

He then questioned them, "I noticed that you've been chatting with people in the village for the past few days. Is there anything you want to ask?

"You can come to me if you have any questions, my cabbages. I'm your friend."

"We can't trust your answer," Valentine interjected.

Ryan shot him a look, signaling him to calm down.

Lumian smiled.

"So you can completely trust the others?"

Leah was at a loss for words, while Ryan thought for a moment before responding,

"Actually, we can't completely trust anyone. We have to make a comprehensive judgment based on the answers we get from different people and the situation we observe."

"That's more like it." Lumian spread his hands. "Well, then it wouldn't hurt to hear my answer. At least it's a reference."

Ryan was silent for a moment before glancing around.

The early morning in Cordu was bustling with people heading to the farmlands, but there was hardly anyone near Ol' Tavern.

"Here's the deal," he said finally. "We're here to find someone."

"The padre?" Lumian asked with a smile.

Ryan shook his head.

"No. We visited the padre to find this person."

"Who is it?" Lumian asked with interest. "I know everyone in the village. I should be able to help."

Ryan did not show any joy.

"Actually, we don't know who this person is, how old they are, or what they look like.

"We received an unsigned letter some time ago, and we're trying to find the person who wrote it."

Lumian couldn't help but wonder if the letter was from an informer.

He feigned puzzlement.

"Did the person who wrote the letter not reach out to you after you arrived in the village?"

"No," Leah replied for Ryan.

"Perhaps they don't feel safe and don't trust you?" Lumian suggested eagerly. "Can't you glean any clues from the contents of the letter?"

Lumian was curious about the letter's contents.

If it was targeting the padre's crew, he'd be happy to help them. But if it involved Aurore, he'd urge his sister to move. After all, Aurore communicated with her pen pals frequently, and if any of them were caught, she could be implicated. The letter could be a crucial clue.