59 COI
The boy chuckled and explained, "This is a gold pound, more valuable than Louis d'or."
"You're not from Intis?" Jenna was taken aback, but she didn't think there was a problem.
The boy's appearance did differ somewhat from the locals.
"I'm Loenese," the boy with neatly combed, light-yellow hair replied honestly.
Jenna chose not to dig deeper, understanding that whether the coin was a gold pound or Louis d'or didn't affect its practical worth.
Based on their previous encounter, she trusted the boy's ability to bring good luck.
She looked at him, awaiting his next words.
The boy returned the lucky gold coin to his pocket, showing no intention of prepayment.
Instead, he pointed at the ground and said, "At ten tonight, enter Underground Trier from the entrance here. Proceed as far as you can, following any available path, until you reach an underground river.
"Find a hiding spot nearby and wait for the first person to pass by. Take all their belongings."
"Before completing this matter, you can't tell anyone what you want to do or where you plan to go."
Go underground purely based on intuition and rely on luck to find prey? Jenna found the boy's instructions rather reminiscent of Ciel's "charlatan temperament."
As for how to acquire the person's belongings, there seemed to be only one solution: through combat; she was to subdue the other party!
Jenna knew the boy was likely a formidable Beyonder aligned with her cause, and without hesitation, she agreed, "Got it."
The boy smiled.
"When you obtain those items and hand them over to me, I'll pay you the lucky gold coin as a reward."
"How should I address you? And where should I find you when the time comes?" Jenna, aware that he wasn't an ordinary boy, couldn't help but speak in a respectful tone.
The boy mumbled, "You can call me Will. Talking to me like that makes me sound like an adult. I'm just in elementary school!
"When the time comes, you'll naturally encounter me."
Will waved her off and said, "You may leave."
However, after walking for more than ten meters, her curiosity got the best of her, and she turned to glance at the iron-black gas street lamp pole.
The strange boy, Will, had vanished from his spot.
Jenna took a closer look and realized that he had entered the nearby café and was now seated at a booth by the window, where an attendant had just brought him a cup with three scoops of ice cream.
He's truly just a child… Jenna mused, her curiosity satisfied as she continued on her way.
…
In the financial district, within the Trier Arts Center,
Lumian took out the brown Mystery Prying Glasses once again after having surmised something.
With no hesitation or fear, he donned the mystical item.
The exhibition hall had been his main focus, with the washroom separated by a long corridor.
Amidst the familiar dizziness, the oil painting in front of Lumian underwent a peculiar transformation.
The faces adorning the naked woman's body turned to look at him.
Simultaneously, Lumian sensed the presence of a creature on the rooftop, where the overlapping sky was, staring at him from a distance. It appeared to be trying to navigate the obstacles and approach him rapidly.
As the blurry face of the woman in the oil painting gradually clarified, her true identity became apparent: brown eyes darting, brown hair cascading, a plump, smooth-skinned face, and an air of detachment…
Lumian recognized her. She was none other than Miss Séraphine, the former tenant of Auberge du Coq Doré, the human model, and the lover playwright Gabriel had been searching for!
As Séraphine's face became clearer, Lumian's surroundings darkened, as if faces were on the verge of emerging from the painting or the void.
Quickly, he removed the Mystery Prying Glasses from his nose bridge, and all the anomalies vanished in an instant, leaving only the sensation of raised hair on his skin.
As expected, the human model for this oil painting is Séraphine…
Although Gabriel is an ordinary person and doesn't possess the Mystery Prying Glasses, he once slept with Séraphine and knows her physical characteristics. That must have been how he noticed traces of his lover when he entered and exited the washroom…
Could it be that Séraphine possesses multiple faces on her body, appearing both painted and alive, just like this oil painting?
Wasn't Gabriel afraid back then?
After discovering the oil painting with Séraphine as the model here, he encountered that normally difficult-to-see creature when he returned?
The timing matches up—the water glass on his desk was more than a day old, and he visited the art exhibition two days ago… Something must have transpired late at night.
As Lumian's thoughts raced, he turned his attention to the oil painting's signature—Claude Pierre August.
The painter was not widely recognized; otherwise, his artwork would not have been hung along the corridor to the washroom. Furthermore, his work was perhaps added for the "Future Impressions" exhibition.
Likewise, he believed that since something had happened to Gabriel, Pierre might have gone missing. He had even gone to the "Hostel" when Séraphine moved out of Auberge du Coq Doré.
Regardless, I should inform Madam Magician. What if there are any clues left behind? Otherwise, they wouldn't have dealt with an ordinary person like Gabriel. Lumian had no intention of pursuing Claude Pierre August himself. This was because it would take a lot of time to gather information about the other party through various channels. And with the target's name and identity, an astromancy master like Madam Magician should be able to quickly lock onto the painter's residence.
In addition, Gabriel had been attacked late at night after learning about Claude, the painter. Lumian's current information was only a fraction of his own.
Lumian gazed at the oil painting, his lips curling into a smile.
Will I be attacked?
I'm looking forward to it.
…
Around 9 p.m., at 3 Rue des Blouses Blanches, Apartment 601, Franca, recalling the Demoness Sect's mission, suspected the Iron and Blood Cross Order would soon make a significant move, and her plan was to visit Gardner Martin while digesting the Pleasure potion along the way.
Rather than her usual method of knocking on the door and entering, Franca decided to take a more covert approach.
She intended to hide around 11 Rue des Fontaines, in the garden, or on the lawn, observing discreetly before finding Gardner Martin.
Recognizing Gardner's Sequence and abilities, she returned to her bedroom and retrieved a palm-sized Primordial Demoness statue, which she concealed in a pocket.
This would enhance her ability to remain hidden and reduce the chances of Beyonder powers detecting her.
"I'm heading to Gardner's." Franca waved at Jenna, opened the door, and left Apartment 601.
Jenna acknowledged and breathed a sigh of relief.
She was about to leave and was a little nervous.
Franca arrived at Rue des Fontaines via a rental carriage but chose not to have the driver stop at Building 11 as usual. Instead, she disembarked from a distance and swiftly disappeared into the shadows, stealthily making her way to Gardner Martin's residence.
Her familiarity with the surroundings allowed her to find a gap in the guards' patrol, and she nimbly scaled a side wall to silently descend into the garden.
Franca didn't attempt to infiltrate the building directly. Instead, she followed the shadows, circling to the edge of the front lawn. Next to a gas street lamp, she observed the grayish-white three-story villa, still illuminated.
As time passed, Franca remained vigilant, focused on observing the figures appearing at the windows and their activities.
Suddenly, the main door of the villa swung open, and butler Faustino emerged, accompanied by a figure cloaked in black.
The black-cloaked individual was of average height, standing at around 1.75 meters. Their entire form was concealed, making it impossible to discern their appearance or physical attributes.
Who could it be? Gardner Martin's partner, or a key member of the Iron and Blood Cross Order in charge of other regions? Franca wondered.
As the black-cloaked figure exited the iron fence while butler Faustino retreated into the villa, Franca hesitated for only a moment before making a decision.
She realized that unless she ventured inside Gardner Martin's residence thoroughly, she wouldn't obtain valuable information. Her earlier exploration had been open and yielded little. The cloaked individual might provide her with fresh leads leading to unexpected gains.
Franca, who was invisible, touched the Primordial Demoness statue in her hidden pocket and grew confident.
She circled around the lawn's edge and scaled the iron fence, stealthily trailing the mysterious figure in the black cloak.
…
At 10 p.m., Jenna embarked on her journey into Underground Trier, an entrance not far from Théatre de l'Ancienne Cage à Pigeons.
Lacking a carbide lamp, she relied on her Assassin's night vision to navigate in the pitch-black environment. Jenna was determined to commit the path to memory and proceeded deeper into the underground tunnels, trusting her instincts.
As she advanced, the silence around her grew ever more profound.
Jenna exhaled slowly, alleviating the tension and fear in her heart.
Jenna deliberately moved away from the tunnel's center, pressed herself against a rock wall, and continued cautiously.
After an indeterminate amount of time, the sound of running water reached her ears.
She proceeded for another seven to eight meters around a rocky outcrop, where a small river flowed slowly in the dark underground.
Jenna steadied herself, spotting a mottled stone pillar to hide behind, her form merging with the dense shadows.
She refrained from using Invisibility, recognizing her limitations as a Witch—the duration she could maintain her powers was limited, and she had no way of knowing how long it would take for the target to arrive.
In the silent underground, time seemed to stretch, and Jenna's mental stress steadily built up.
At last, the reverberation of footsteps reached her ears.
-x-X-x-
His next objective was to ascertain whether the enigmatic entity that had targeted him from afar, attempting to approach rapidly while he observed Séraphine's oil painting with the Mystery Prying Glasses, would pay him a visit during the night, much like how it had dealt with Gabriel.
He lay on the bed, closed his eyes, and gradually drifted off to sleep.
Lumian had full confidence in Madam Magician. As a Major Arcana card holder in the Tarot Club, she appeared to possess the ability to launch long-range attacks and was skilled at dealing with untouchable and enigmatic creatures.
As his thoughts blurred and he succumbed to slumber, Lumian found himself in a hazy dream, returning to Auberge du Coq Doré. Dim light filtered through the glass windows on each floor of the slightly tilted building. Gabriel, attired in a white shirt, dark jacket, black pants, and strapless leather shoes, sat on the entrance steps.
The playwright's visage was somewhat translucent, and an air of detachment lingered in his eyes.
Upon spotting Lumian, Gabriel stood up abruptly, a conspicuous smile crossing his face.
Lumian halted warily and looked at him.
"What are you doing here?"
Gabriel's smile waned as he spoke urgently,
"Leave Trier immediately! This place is about to become extremely dangerous!"
Lumian frowned and inquired, "What have you discovered?"
Gabriel cast a wary gaze around before responding, "I'm not entirely sure what they're planning, but I do know it will bring destruction to all of Trier."
They… Lumian pressed for more information. "Are you staying at the Hostel? Where is it?"
A hint of confusion appeared on Gabriel's face.
"You need to be like me to enter or gain the approval of the pixies.
"I didn't know how to find it. I found myself at the door as soon as I arrived."
As expected, the Hostel is closely related to the Pixies… Did Gabriel rely on the corruption to alter his existence and reach the Hostel like teleportation? Lumian's thoughts raced as he asked in a deep voice, "Why did you choose to go to the Hostel? Were you coerced into it?"
"No," Gabriel shook his head, his voice softening. "I did it of my own accord. Séraphine came to fetch me personally, and I couldn't refuse. It's what I wanted."
A touch of happiness crossed his face.
"Have you realized that you've become a monster?"
He paused a beat before continuing, "My script has already achieved success. I have the reputation and income I desired most. I have no regrets in that regard. All I want now is to be with Séraphine, whether she's human or a monster."
Lumian didn't scold or berate him. Instead, he looked at Gabriel and let out a long sigh. "I understand your feelings and thoughts."
Gabriel's face showed gratitude, and he spoke sincerely, "After becoming a monster, I seem to have the ability to see a certain future. That's why I knew you would come to me. I asked Séraphine to let me stay in the room for two more days to bid you farewell. She agreed. She's not a pure monster!"
Lumian's heart stirred, and he spoke in a bewitching tone, "Do you want me to rescue you and Séraphine from the Hostel?"
"Is it possible?" Gabriel's face contorted, and his eyes revealed a mixture of yearning, as if his body and mind existed in different worlds.
Lumian took a step closer and spoke earnestly, "There is hope, but I need you to tell me all the details."
Gabriel's expression shifted between blankness, coldness, excitement, longing, and rejection, each emotion expressed vividly.
In that moment, he extended his hand, his eyes filled with intense fear.
Silently, Gabriel's form shattered, and the image of Auberge du Coq Doré disintegrated, along with the faint mist.
Lumian's eyes snapped open, and he found himself gazing at the ceiling of the second-floor bedroom in Salle de Bal Brise.
It had all been a dream, but it had felt incredibly real.
…
Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative.
Franca, carrying the Primordial Demoness's statue, followed the black-cloaked man while remaining invisible.
The man appeared to have extensive experience and skill in evading pursuit. He frequently changed direction and even doubled back on his path.
If Franca hadn't relied on her invisibility and the assistance of the Primordial Demoness statue, she would have lost him several times.
Finally, the black-cloaked man came to a stop in front of an entrance to Underground Trier.
He half-turned and examined his palms under the crimson moonlight, leaving Franca perplexed.
What's going on? Is he performing palm-reading on himself? Remaining hidden behind a gas street lamp pole, the invisible Franca observed his actions with curiosity.
After a moment, the man descended the steel staircase and disappeared into the dim entrance.
Franca followed closely behind, venturing deeper into Underground Trier.
Twenty minutes later, the black-cloaked man reached a sealed tunnel.
Franca, standing a few meters away, looked over and saw three lamps embedded in the stone wall.
Three classic oil lamps, one high and two below, each with a flame burning inside.
Franca had been in Trier for a long time and had a good understanding of the situation here. This scene triggered a connection in Franca's mind.
Carbonari!
She recognized this as one of the symbols of the Carbonari, an organization seeking to overthrow the government. Lighting three lamps was symbolic in their ranks—the one above represented the sun, while the other two below symbolized the moon and the stars.
The Iron and Blood Cross Order collaborates with the Carbonari? Franca was both surprised and unsurprised.
From her perspective, the Iron and Blood Cross Order aimed to seize power in Intis itself by toppling the government, but their current focus seemed to be on the underground and the entrance to Fourth Epoch Trier.
The black-cloaked man swiftly passed through the self-opening stone door, and Franca noticed a thin, ever-changing white fog emanating from inside.
This fog looks familiar. There must be something wrong… Franca hesitated to follow when she felt a slight tremor in her hidden pocket.
Franca reached out and touched it, her expression changing slightly.
The classic silver mirror had trembled slightly—the one connected to the underground mirror world!
Franca remained in her concealed position, watching the stone door slowly close without taking another step forward.
…
Beside the flowing underground river, the figure moved swiftly along the water.
He didn't use lanterns, carbide lamps, or other sources of light, yet he moved through the darkness with ease, navigating around potholes, rocks, and obstacles effortlessly.
Jenna, hidden behind a mottled stone pillar, noticed a flickering red light in the target's eye.
Taking a deep breath, she retrieved the ancient Arrow of the Bloodthirsty from her black coat and prepared herself for the confrontation.
Her combat experience wasn't limited, but it wasn't much either. In particular, she had never faced a Beyonder alone. All she could do was use everything in her arsenal to augment herself from the onset. She had to go all out to minimize any accidents.
Jenna plunged the obsidian arrow into her chest, letting it draw her blood and come to live.
Before the figure could approach, she sprinkled fluorescent powder over herself and chanted a Hermes incantation at an almost inaudible volume: "Body Concealment!"
With that, Jenna vanished completely, blending into the darkness, her movements masked by the sound of the underground river.
Moments later, the figure with the red eye arrived in the area. Jenna watched from the shadows.
Suddenly, the darkness came alive beneath the figure's feet, forming inky black chains that wrapped around the legs, waist, and torso.
The figure stopped abruptly, a red light shooting from its eye.
From behind, Jenna's form materialized.
Only then did Jenna get a clear look at her target. He was a man, holding a grayish-white cloth bag and wearing a dark gray robe similar to that of a monk. His face was a menacing sight, constructed with iron plates, gears, springs, screws, cranks, and other mechanical contraptions. There was a vivid red gem embedded in his right eye.
A monk from the Deep Valley Cloister? Jenna's heart raced. She hadn't anticipated Will targeting a monk from the God of Steam and Machinery Church.
She and Franca had crossed paths with similar monks in the Deep Valley Quarry before. These monks had augmented their bodies with mechanical modifications, giving them an eerie appearance.
Confronted with a target whose skull had transformed into metal, Jenna abandoned her initial plan of striking behind the ears. Instead, she concentrated a dark flame in her right palm and pressed it against the mechanical monk's head amidst the howling wind.
Simultaneously, a red beam shot forth, slicing through a few shackles resembling the Abyss. However, it only addressed the front. The other directions were already ensnaring the mechanically enhanced monk.
With a resounding impact, Jenna thrust the black flame into the target's head.
The silent yet menacing black flames expanded instantly, consuming the monk's Spirit Body and setting his spirituality ablaze.
Leveraging the high-speed agility granted by the Arrow of the Bloodthirsty, Jenna continuously shifted her position around the monk to evade counterattacks.
Simultaneously, she sought opportunities to weaken him to the fullest extent with the Demoness's black flames, bolstered by dark, binding spells.
In less than two minutes, the monk, unable to break free, collapsed to the ground, rendered unconscious and weakened.
Jenna exhaled and lowered herself to the ground.
She picked up the grayish-white cloth bag, untied the rope, and inspected its contents.
Inside, she found an array of canned paints and oil paintbrushes.
-x-X-x-
Could this monk be a passionate painter?
Or was he simply delivering paint and brushes to an artist?
It seems like a routine task, but the fact that he had chosen the depths of Underground Trier for this errand raises suspicion. It didn't appear to be a matter of time constraints…
Either there's a problem with his destination, or the painter he's looking for is problematic. Perhaps everything is problematic…
A barrage of thoughts raced through Jenna's mind, leading her to suspect a connection between the mechanically enhanced monk and the Hostel they were investigating.
It was possible that an artist with supernatural powers was working on murals underground, requiring a substantial supply of paint and tools!
Jenna decided to search the monk's robe for any clues, finding only a few coins and banknotes.
She placed these items in the same grayish-white cloth bag and secured it with a knot. As she examined the intricate mechanical components that comprised half of the monk's body, she contemplated using the Demoness's black flames to incapacitate him once more. Her plan was to transport him back to the surface for an "interrogation" with the help of Ciel, Franca, and Anthony.
Being a Witch, Jenna had mastered ritualistic magic related to spirit channeling, but she lacked practical experience and was concerned about making a mistake that might disrupt their lead. She also needed a safe prayer target, so she intended to leave this task to the experienced Lumian and Franca.
As Jenna was about to put her plan into action, multiple gears on the unconscious monk's face suddenly began to turn on their own,
producing an unsettling clicking and clacking noise. The mechanical parts came to life,
spinning wildly and devouring the flesh and blood on the other side of the monk's body, turning it into a gruesome mess.
The scene resembled a horrific accident in a factory where an operator had fallen into a massive machine.
Jenna's instincts immediately warned her of impending danger, but before she could react, the mechanical parts, along with her own flesh and blood, lunged towards her.
Amidst the coexisting sounds of cracking and creaking, she transformed into a mirror, shattering inch by inch.
Jenna managed to reappear approximately ten meters away from the underground river.
Without looking back, she swiftly grabbed the grayish-white cloth bag and the Arrow of the Bloodthirsty embedded in her chest. She darted around the rock wall, making a hasty escape to the surface.
Behind her, the sounds of metal grinding and colliding persisted, but they couldn't catch up to her. Gradually, the commotion began to subside.
Finally, Jenna heard the crisp sound of metal parts falling to the ground,
Jenna ran until she reached a named location in Underground Trier, where she finally slowed down and carefully removed the Arrow of the Bloodthirsty from her chest.
If not for that, she might have been caught by the menacing mechanical body before having the opportunity to use the mystical item once more.
As Jenna assessed her surroundings and sought out the underground Avenue du Marché, she reflected on her harrowing experience. It felt as though the chilling tales Franca and Ciel had shared, along with their horrifying abilities, had become a reality.
The parts of the monk's body that had undergone mechanical enhancements had assumed an eerie lifelike state!
And the revived machinery was devouring human flesh and blood!
This is the true nature of the mystical world, where Beyonder powers are accompanied by unimaginable perils… Jenna turned onto the underground Avenue du Marché and made her way towards the stairs that would lead her back to the surface.
Simultaneously, she couldn't shake the suspicion that the enigmatic monk and the sinister secret cave she and Franca had stumbled upon in the Deep Valley Quarry were somehow linked to the impending catastrophe.
…
After the stone door closed, and the dark tunnel fell silent, Franca emerged from her hiding place and remained invisible as she returned to the surface.
She replayed the scene she had just witnessed, trying to pinpoint the source of the familiar feeling emanating from the ever-shifting thin white fog.
Just as she was on the verge of resorting to Magic Mirror Divination or Dream Divination to find answers, a memory resurfaced.
She recalled the moment she and Jenna had eliminated the Deep Valley Cloister's Warlock-dressed man underground. A similar fog had appeared in the mirror during their spirit channeling!
The other party's exploded corpse transformed into a blood mist, revealing the corresponding characteristics, but the colors were different!
007 had informed us that by the time the Purifiers arrived in Deep Valley Town, their target had already shifted. The items on the altar were gone, leaving behind only cryptic words on certain papers…
Those words were Albert Goncourt, Underground, Riot, and Time… Albert Goncourt is one of the leaders of the Carbonari… and this aligns with the three oil lamps I had seen moments ago! Could it be that the Iron and Blood Cross Order is collaborating with the Carbonari to incite a riot, possibly involving monks from the Deep Valley Cloister?
Hiss, could it be that the item Gardner Martin used to smuggle "Rat" Christo into Trier was requested by the Carbonari?
Is it located not far behind that stone door? Is that why my ancient silver mirror reacted?
Franca gradually connected the dots.
She realized the urgency of reporting this matter. Though it wasn't directly related to their primary mission of finding the Hostel, it seemed far from a trivial issue. If it escalated, it could lead to another catastrophe, and Franca felt compelled to do her best to prevent it.
In the next moment, Franca pondered her options.
Should I report to the Tarot Club, the Demoness Sect, or inform the authorities through 007?
She quickly made up her mind.
Only children choose to do multiple-choice questions. Adults select them all!
…
Lumian awoke from his dream, his mind filled with questions as he slowly sat up and surveyed his surroundings.
There were no signs of Madam Magician pursuing Gabriel at the Hostel.
Madam Magician didn't realize that Gabriel had used a dream to warn me to escape Trier immediately? That's impossible. This lady possessed the ability to enter and exit my dreams at will in Cordu, and she is known to be the bane of these special monsters. Even Bouvard's lifeless body, which should have been untouchable, hadn't been spared when she dragged it away… Lumian paced back and forth in the room, pondering the puzzling situation.
He couldn't believe that Madam Magician wasn't paying attention. She had the means to observe from a distance, so there was no urgency in rushing to Salle de Bal Brise.
The insight he gained from Conspirer's influence left Lumian with a nagging sense that the dream was not what it seemed.
To deceive Madam Magician while communicating with him indicated that there was something extraordinary about Gabriel or the Hostel itself!
As Lumian was only a Sequence 6 and lacked extensive knowledge of mysticism, he refrained from speculating and instead sat at his desk, taking up a pen and paper to write a letter.
Knowing the "doll" messenger's preferences, he decided to send the letter only after returning to Auberge du Coq Doré, patiently awaiting a response.
Before long, Madam Magician's reply arrived.
"I didn't notice Gabriel influencing your dream.
"Initial considerations are:
"You have a close connection to the Hostel."
There's a close connection between me and the Hostel? Lumian's forehead twitched as he read the message, feeling as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured over his head.
How is that possible?
When did I establish such a bond with the Hostel?
Could it be that Gabriel used this connection to conceal himself from Madam Magician's scrutiny and directly influence my dream?
Lumian found Madam Magician's hypothesis absurd, but he couldn't help but analyze the possibilities.
As Lumian pondered the situation, a sudden realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.
Maipú Meyer!
Susanna Mattise's lover, the ostracized key member of the Bliss Society, the former manager of Théatre de l'Ancienne Cage à Pigeons, who had claimed to be returning to the market district to do something!
Could it be that Maipú Meyer had secretly done something in the market district that led to my unexplained close connection with the Hostel?
He wants to prove himself. I'm definitely one of the targets… Was it his plan for me to establish a close connection with the Hostel and detonate it at a critical moment?
How did he do it? I had a close connection to the Hostel without realizing it… Lumian subconsciously glanced at his left chest and suspected that Termiboros, the traitor, might have played a role in this matter.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have failed to notice anything amiss.
Amidst his surprise, Lumian didn't panic. Instead, he felt a sense of joy.
I wonder if I can use my close connection to the Hostel to find that place…
When the time comes, I might have the opportunity to meet the Sansons and have the support of numerous Major Arcana card holders…
Just as Lumian was about to write and inquire about Madam Magician, he heard soft footsteps approaching his room.
Knock, knock, knock. There was a gentle knock on the door of Room 207.
Lumian opened the door and was surprised to find Franca and Jenna standing there.
One of them wore a garish blouse, and the other was dressed as a female mercenary. Their expressions were serious.
Franca felt the need to communicate with Lumian before writing a report. "We've discovered something significant."
You've found something important too? Lumian was taken aback, pointing at the ceiling.
"Call Anthony over as well."
Nearly fifteen minutes later, Franca and Jenna shared their experiences in Room 207 of Auberge du Coq Doré, carefully omitting details about the Demoness Sect and Will.
As Lumian listened, his brow furrowed.
Some of the Deep Valley Cloister monks are suspected to be linked to the Hostel and the impending catastrophe?
That was an important cloister of the God of Steam and Machinery Church!
Lumian couldn't help but rub his temples, recollecting that something unusual had also occurred at the Eternal Blazing Sun Church's Sacred Heart Cloister.
Are the two Churches no longer as reliable?
Could Trier still be saved? Could there be a future?
-x-X-x-
"At the very least, those monks at the Deep Valley Cloister are still discreet when they're up to no good. It means they still have reservations, which suggests that the entirety of the God of Steam and Machinery Church isn't problematic. A significant number of clergymen, or maybe even the majority, are normal."
"I think so too," Anthony Reid agreed, raising his hand and drawing a triangle on his chest.
Lumian continued, "At this point, this is no longer something a small team like ours can handle. It's best to leave the Deep Valley Cloister's problem to the Purifiers and the Machinery Hivemind."
What he didn't say was that the Tarot Club would keep a close watch. After all, no one knew how many hidden dangers were waiting to emerge within the two Churches. What if someone triggered them prematurely, delaying the investigation of the Deep Valley Cloister?
"Alright," Franca concurred; it was her original plan to begin with.
With the plan confirmed, Franca and Jenna left Auberge du Coq Doré and returned to Rue des Blouses Blanches.
Lumian drew back the curtains, gazing at the crimson moon in the sky. Casually, he said to Anthony Reid, who was about to leave, "Your best option now is to head to Suhit's steam locomotive station as soon as you wake up tomorrow and purchase a ticket to leave Trier. The sooner the departing train, the better."
Anthony, dressed in military-green camouflage, halted in his tracks, slowly turning around, his gaze locked on Lumian's retreating figure.
"Oh?"
Lumian poured himself a glass of light beer, which served as potable water, and took a sip. He continued to peer out the window and said, "You've been with us recently, and you've learned a lot. You should be able to discern the looming issue in Trier. The impending catastrophe will be dire. If you don't depart quickly, you might never get the chance.
"As for seeking revenge, for finding Philip, who faked his death, we can wait until the catastrophe is over. There's no rule stating you can't return after leaving Trier."
Anthony Reid fell into silence for a few seconds before slowly joining Lumian at his side. He too gazed at the night sky and asked, "Why aren't you leaving?"
Lumian replied with a smirk, "Aren't you a Spectator? Can't you see we're on a mission? How can we just leave Trier like that?"
Anthony turned his head to fix his stare on Lumian's face and eyes, remaining silent for a long while.
Lumian held the light beer in his hand, his gaze still fixed outside the window. His eyes were vacant, and his focus seemed clouded.
After a while, he scoffed.
"Besides, I have the ability to survive such a disaster. I can protect Franca and Jenna, but only the two of them. Do you think you can compare to beautiful women who have a deeper relationship with me?"
His "protection" referred to teleporting Franca and Jenna to The Fool's cathedral at the Lavigny Docks.
Anthony didn't respond and looked at the dark sky outside once more.
Taking a few deep breaths and exhaling white smoke, the Psychiatrist muttered to himself, "I was born and raised on the West Midseashire Coast. It's an area with many industrial cities, where the God of Steam and Machinery has more believers than the Eternal Blazing Sun.
"When I was fortunate enough to become a Beyonder, my greatest dream was to retire safely from the army with some savings. I'd buy land near my hometown, close to the forest. I'd hire a few people to help me with farming. In my free time, I'd secretly hunt in the forest, breathe the sea air, or go fishing. Heh heh, you might not know this, but the fish in Midseashire are inedible due to heavy industrial pollution. Locals only eat it if they have no other choice."
Anthony Reid's voice deepened.
"If I were to return to the West Midseashire Coast and my hometown now, I might never be able to enjoy such a life. It's not about money; I need a sense of relaxation.
"I still have nightmares about our camp being ambushed, with corpses everywhere. Every time, I can feel my heart racing. I can imagine that if I leave tomorrow and see the news and photos of the Trier catastrophe in the newspapers, I'll have similar nightmares. I'll dream of Trier being incinerated by flames, with corpses strewn everywhere.
"That time, I fled out of fear. This time, I don't want to do that again."
Anthony Reid took another drag on his cigarette.
Without waiting for Lumian's mockery, he added, "I'm well aware of my limitations, and all of this doesn't directly concern me. However, I've been in Trier for several years. I know many informants, neighbors, and children who will trade information for sweets or coppet. I don't want to hear about their deaths in a few days and see their pained faces when I close my eyes.
"I'll do my best to cooperate with you and do what I can. Only when there's no other choice will I consider retreating.
"You don't need to understand. This might be the paranoid decision of a patient with severe psychological problems."
Lumian chuckled and commented, "You make it sound as if nobody else has psychological problems."
Before completing my treatment, my psychological problems were far worse than yours!
A smile appeared on Anthony Reid's face.
"So, you chose to stay too, didn't you?"
He turned around and left Room 207, puffing on his short cigarette.
Lumian relished the night view of Trier, the enduring cacophony of Rue Anarchie serving as a backdrop to his contemplation. He emptied his glass of light beer.
Then, he took his seat, drew the curtains, and commenced writing to Madam Magician.
"New leads…
"There are now three investigation directions:
"Firstly, the Deep Valley Cloister and the Sacred Heart Cloister.
"Secondly, I can use the strong connection between myself and the Hostel to infiltrate the underground route that Jenna followed when she encountered the monk by the river. By following my instincts, I can attempt to reach the Hostel directly.
"Thirdly, an assault on Gardner Martin. Since the Iron and Blood Cross Order collaborates with the Carbonari, which is linked to the Deep Valley Cloister incident, they might be involved and have valuable information."
After dispatching the letter, Lumian paced his room, grappling with a mixture of worry, frustration, and anticipation.
"We'll take responsibility for the first direction. I refrained from mentioning the second direction because it poses a significant risk to you. Furthermore, Gabriel's warning has likely been detected, so the Hostel will be on high alert against such intrusions.
"We can cautiously explore the third direction, but you must be well-prepared before confronting Gardner Martin."
Silently, crimson flames erupted, setting the paper in Lumian's hand ablaze. He planned to get some rest to recover from mental fatigue. At dawn, he would convene with Franca, Jenna, and Anthony to discuss their plan of action.
…
Apartment 601, 3 Rue des Blouses Blanches.
Franca hadn't changed into her cotton pajamas; she was still dressed in her daytime attire.
Observing her pacing the room, Jenna asked, her brow furrowed in confusion, "What's bothering you?"
Franca sighed and replied, "I intend to seek out Gardner now. Although Ciel didn't mention it just now, I can sense that he will propose dealing with Gardner in the next two days. This is a clear breakthrough. Sigh, I must seize the opportunity to digest more Pleasure."
Jenna regarded Franca's profile, pursing her lips before changing the topic.
"Don't you have many lovers? Even without Gardner Martin, there are others."
Franca couldn't help but clear her throat and smile wryly.
"Long gone, long gone. Gardner and his lovers are my current interests."
Jenna chuckled and playfully teased, "Without Gardner Martin, you can turn to Ciel."
"No, no!" Franca waved her hand vigorously. "I can't get past myself."
With those words, she headed toward the door.
"I'm going to Rue des Fontaines."
Jenna's smile faded as she offered a solemn reminder, "Don't display any unusual behavior later."
"I understand," Franca replied, her expression turning serious. "I won't let Gardner feel like I'm giving him hospice."
With that, she opened the door and exited.
Jenna let out a soft sigh as she watched Franca vanish behind the closed door.
Then, her gaze turned to the grayish-white cloth bag on the coffee table, and she muttered to herself, I wonder when I'll encounter Will to deliver this bag…
…
In the middle of the night, Jenna awoke suddenly from a vivid dream.
In her dream, she found herself in an underground quarry cave, with Will standing before her.
Although it was only a dream, Jenna had an uncanny sense of familiarity with the location and knew how to reach it in reality.
Understanding the significance of her dream, Jenna nodded slowly and changed into her female mercenary attire. Carrying the grayish-white cloth bag, she left Apartment 601 and ventured underground through the entrance on Rue des Blouses Blanches.
Following the revelations of her dream and guided by her spirituality, she descended, turned, and squeezed through gaps at times. Finally, she arrived at the quarry cave she had seen in her dream.
In the center of the mine, Will, dressed as he had been during the day, held an orange jack-o'-lantern. He didn't appear particularly pleased, resembling a student caught playing hooky by parents and teachers.
"Is this what you want?" Jenna handed him the grayish-white cloth bag filled with various paints and brushes.
Will accepted it but didn't open the bag. Instead, he retrieved an item known as the lucky gold coin and sighed.
"This is your reward.
"This is both your luck and misfortune. It signifies that you will encounter many things and bear significant responsibility.
"You may not fully grasp it now, but one day, you will."
Ever since the heretics brought catastrophe to the market district, there's been no turning back for me… Only by forging ahead in this perilous world of mysticism can I protect those I care about… Jenna silently mused, taking the Loen gold pound. She inspected it and inquired, "How should I use it?"
"Simply keep it with you," Will advised, waving his hand before vanishing into the depths of the quarry cave, clutching his jack-o'-lantern.
Jenna stowed the lucky gold coin and made her way back to the surface. To her astonishment, she found that she couldn't recall the route she had taken.
While she had arrived guided by her spirituality, she was now fully awake and devoid of the same guidance.
Jenna had no choice but to navigate her way independently, following a general principle of "ascending."
After walking for some time, the ground suddenly shook violently, as if an explosion had occurred in the distance.
An earthquake or some other anomaly? Jenna furrowed her brow and quickened her pace to find a path leading upward.
As she turned a corner around a rock wall, her feet abruptly gave way.
The ground had already caved in, and now, it had completely collapsed.
Amidst the deafening sounds of collapse, Jenna couldn't react in time and tumbled deeper as the ground disintegrated.
She swiftly adjusted her body and activated her Assassin abilities, allowing her to descend gracefully like a feather.
-x-X-x-
After the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery lost all its dioceses in the Loen Kingdom, the former Archbishop of Backlund, a member of the Divine Council, returned to the headquarters in Intis. Over the past few years, he had traveled to various places like a firefighter, handling various serious Beyonder incidents.
He understood better than most clergymen of the God of Steam and Machinery Church that, despite the outward appearance of peace, the world was riddled with festering wounds. Problems abounded, and hidden dangers lurked in the darkness. The orthodox Churches and government organizations could only strive to maintain stability.
Horamick collected his thoughts and sighed silently. He turned to the Machinery Hivemind deacon beside him and declared, "Let's take action. God will protect us. By steam!"
As he spoke, he drew a Triangular Sacred Emblem on his chest.
The burly Machinery Hivemind deacon issued the command for purification, and the members of the Hivemind sprang into action. Some raised iron-black barrel-shaped objects, while others shouldered weapons resembling steam firearms, devoid of backpacks or golden ammunition belts. Still, others produced leather scrolls, charms crafted from various metals, and some pointed rings, canes, and other objects forward.
Rumble!
The miniature sun-like golden fireball was the first to blast out of a cannon barrel, landing at the heart of the quarry cave.
Behind it followed a cascade of colorful "cannonballs" and bullets of varying shapes. The light and dispersed waves purged the entire Deep Valley Quarry repeatedly, maintaining the cave's structural integrity, resulting in only a slight collapse.
After a few rounds of purification, the concealed cave within the quarry was breached, unveiling its interior.
Horamick's eyes gleamed with an inhuman, dark-red light. He could clearly discern that the white mist within the secret cave had nearly dissipated entirely. Human arms and legs were embedded in the rock walls on either side.
The archbishop advanced, leading two squads of Machinery Hivemind members through the quarry and into the concealed cave.
Before entering, he cast a glance back at the nearby Deep Valley Cloister, closely monitored by Trier's archbishop with Sealed Artifacts.
Horamick studied the human arms and legs attached to gears, crankshafts, and other mechanical components, resembling experimental subjects.
Under the deacon's orders, the Machinery Hivemind members initiated another round of purification. They persisted until the arms, legs, and machinery had turned to ashes or fragments, allowing them to proceed further into the secret cave and descend the tunnel.
After several iterations, Horamick and the Machinery Hivemind members, their pale-white hair concealed by clergyman bonnets, reached a vast, laboratory-like chamber.
Here, human arms intertwined with machinery, following ceiling tracks, perpetually gripping cabinets, sinks, long tables, and iron boxes, moving them toward the blazing fire at the deepest part of the hall.
A few human corpses were piled in the chamber, and a humanoid figure made entirely of machinery stood among them.
This mechanical being stood at a towering height of over three meters. One of his cybernetic eyes resembled an emerald, while the other resembled a ruby, supported by numerous components. His temples were encased in a transparent special material, revealing the squirming grayish-white brain within.
The mechanical giant cast a glance at Horamick and the others, who were scattered at the entrance of the chamber, and emitted a metallic chuckle.
"Seeing this, you have no reason to doubt, right? We are the chosen children of God. We follow the true teachings of God, while your spirits and flesh have been tainted by the pleasures and indulgence of the mortal world, causing you to abandon the throne of God!"
Turning his attention to the mechanical giant, his benevolent expression remained undisturbed.
"You used a spirituality gem, didn't you?
"Using humans to refine spirituality gems is even more ruthless and wasteful than employing steam to drive them.
"Claude, I thought you were momentarily lost and would gradually return to your senses within the Deep Valley Cloister. I didn't anticipate that you would become a heretic!"
"Heretic?" The mechanical giant laughed. "You are the heretics! When was the last time any of you received a revelation?"
"All the time," Horamick responded with composure. "Claude, tell me, where is the Hostel? Are you in league with those evil gods to set your sights on Fourth Epoch Trier?"
In his mechanical giant form, Claude's eyes emitted red and green lights as he spoke with solemnity,
"You have strayed from the teachings of God. You no longer possess the spirit of sacrifice.
"The future of this world and the chance for a deity to ascend to the pinnacle lies within Fourth Epoch Trier. The sooner we unlock it, the greater our hope!"
Without waiting for Horamick's reply, the mechanical giant declared coldly, "I will show you who the heretics are and who the true followers of God are!"
As soon as Claude finished speaking, the light in his cybernetic eyes flared, and the entire chamber trembled. The sounds of machinery in operation resonated with an enigmatic aura.
In an instant, the Machinery Hivemind members, who had been on the verge of unleashing their firepower, witnessed projected paintings depicting the evolution of humans emerging from obscurity, advancing step by step, and building civilizations at various stages.
These paintings were ethereal, weighty, delicate, and magnificent. Horamick and his companions seemed to transform into the people within the paintings, experiencing the gravity and splendor of civilization.
At that moment, a face appeared "outside the painting."
This figure wore a towering crown, with his nostrils decayed to the point where only two black holes remained. His eyes were filled with countless overlapping star charts, and they stared greedily at Horamick and the others, as well as their civilization.
Silently, more faces pressed against the surface of the painting. Some had their heads bisected by a ruler, while others were adorned with yellow paper covered in strange symbols. Some were covered in ears of wheat and rice, while others barely took on human forms, their bodies adorned with various symbols.
These faces were larger than Horamick and his companions combined. They stared fixedly at the scene through the painting.
The Machinery Hivemind members who beheld these faces experienced a profound fear from the depths of their hearts, as though their entire civilization would be obliterated.
Just as they were on the verge of losing control, the faces vanished mysteriously, just as they had appeared.
The scene before Horamick's eyes reverted to its normal state. The mechanical giant Claude and the frenziedly operating chamber reentered his field of vision.
The archbishop remained unruffled, though his voice resonated with anger.
"Heretics!"
The sound of gears clicking filled the chamber, illuminating it as brightly as daylight.
The Machinery Hivemind members launched their attacks in succession.
Rumble!
The Deep Valley Quarry experienced a distinct tremor, as though a brief, violent earthquake had struck.
…
In Underground Trier, just outside the stone door through which the Carbonari had disappeared, crimson fireballs hovered in the air, casting a warm glow in the dark tunnel.
Blazing Danitz, dressed in a linen shirt, a brown jacket, dark pants, and black leather boots, had one hand in his pocket as he fixed his gaze on the nearby stone door.
His burnt-yellow hair and eyebrows framed his face, and he casually held a weed in his mouth, surveying the surroundings with his dark-blue yet bright eyes.
Nearly 20 men, all dressed as sailors, silently fanned out in the vicinity. Some twirled daggers, others wiped the barrels of their revolvers, and a few stretched their necks in anticipation.
A grinning, brown-haired sailor finally broke the silence and questioned Blazing Danitz, "Captain, why are we aiding the Intis government in pursuing the Carbonari? And why are we doing it for free?"
Danitz glanced at him, spat out the weed from his mouth, and muttered under his breath, "Damn fools, do you want to see Trier in ruins? Are you lads not still Intisian?"
As he spoke, he swung his fist at the stone door.
Doesn't this group of assholes not know that their captain owns numerous properties in Trier?
Upon the surface of Danitz's clenched fist, blazing white flames gathered as he thrust forward. Eventually, they coalesced into a fireball emitting a destructive aura.
Boom!
The ground shook, and the stone door shattered.
…
Jenna descended gracefully in the seemingly endless darkness, occasionally brushing against gravel but escaping physical harm.
After what felt like an eternity of descent, her feet finally touched solid ground.
Her beautiful blue eyes reflected a building.
It was a slightly crooked beige house. The lower three floors bore the architectural marks of Roselle's era, featuring pillar walls, arches, and large windows. The top two floors, in stark contrast, seemed crudely appended as an afterthought.
This is… Jenna was visibly taken aback.
The building before her was one she recognized all too well.
It was Auberge du Coq Doré!
At that moment, light streamed from numerous rooms within Auberge du Coq Doré. Jenna spotted a man and a woman, standing on the third-floor balcony, wrapped in each other's embrace.
The man sported black-framed glasses, his neatly combed brown hair adding to his refined appearance. As for the woman, she wore a lake-blue dress, her plump face and ethereal brown eyes creating a curious juxtaposition.
Thud, thud. Jenna's heart raced.
She had never actually met the woman, but she was familiar with the man.
It was the missing playwright, Gabriel!
-x-X-x-
Only then did Jenna, who appeared to be lost in a daydream, snap back to reality. Instinctively, she took two steps back and melted into the shadows cast by the building.
As her thoughts raced, chaos reigned in her mind.
Is that Gabriel?
I'm seeing him again… Didn't he morph into a monster and head to the Hostel?
Is this the Hostel? Auberge du Coq Doré is the Hostel?
No, the real Auberge du Coq Doré definitely isn't a Hostel. Otherwise, Ciel and the secret organization with tarot cards as their code names would have discovered it long ago…
Is this a mirror image of Auberge du Coq Doré, or is it the sketch of someone somewhere?
Jenna quickly deduced, relying on the information at hand.
Yet, upon further reflection, she sensed that something was off.
Auberge du Coq Doré used a naming system like Room 207 and 305. According to Bouvard's prophecy, Voisin Sanson was in Room 7, and Pualis de Roquefort was in Room 12. They didn't match up.
There must be something awry!
Jenna averted her gaze from the counterfeit Auberge du Coq Doré and surveyed her surroundings.
She noticed that this place was identical to Rue Anarchie. The buildings lined up perfectly, some tall, some short, some askew, and some precariously balanced, but all standing firm.
On the street, vendors peddled meatloaf, Whiskey Sours, and other wares. Pedestrians streamed in and out, creating a bustling scene.
If she hadn't spotted Gabriel and had been plummeting this entire time, Jenna would have believed she'd returned to the surface and Rue Anarchie.
As Jenna carefully observed the pedestrians and vendors, it became clear that something was off.
Their vacant expressions and infrequent changes gave them an eerie, mechanical quality. Many familiar faces seemed to vanish at the end of the street, only to reappear, circling around from somewhere and returning to the entrance of Rue Anarchie in a repetitive cycle.
It's indeed fake… like a massive stage production. Most people, like the surrounding buildings, serve as a backdrop, but it's just a backdrop… Jenna analyzed the scene, drawing parallels with theatrical performances she knew well, trying to make sense of what she was witnessing.
Her attention then shifted to the counterfeit Auberge du Coq Doré and Room 207.
After a few moments of contemplation, Jenna decided not to risk infiltrating the fake Auberge du Coq Doré. She opted to explore the area carefully, gaining a rough understanding of the overall situation to see if there was a way out.
The layout and situation here mirrored Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman. Jenna barely needed to distinguish the path before returning to Rue des Blouses Blanches.
With every step, her sense of unease grew. She even began to question if her usual neighborhood was real.
Jenna couldn't help but look up at the sky from the shadows.
Blue sky, white clouds, the westering sun, and billowing smoke.
It all felt real, yet helped Jenna confirm that this wasn't the genuine market district.
She had descended into the underground in the middle of the night to search for Will. Could she have been missing for twelve hours?
From across 3 Rue des Blouses Blanches, Jenna surveyed Apartment 601.
Beside the glass window in the living room, she saw Franca, dressed in a blouse and holding a bottle of dark red wine in her hand. Her flaxen hair was tied in a ponytail.
Behind Franca, Jenna, dressed in a light-blue dress, busied herself with tidying up, occasionally disappearing from the window's view.
Jenna wasn't shocked, but her heart sank.
She and Franca were undeniably present!
Is this really the reflection of the market district?
Jenna closely observed Franca and confirmed that Franca still used her right hand, ruling out the possibility of her being a mirror person.
Likewise, in Apartment 601, both Franca and Jenna's vacant expressions persisted as they continued their lives following predetermined paths without any deviations.
While remaining hidden in the shadows, Jenna pondered the location of the exit.
Lacking much experience, she sought inspiration from Lumian's accounts and the plays she had witnessed.
Should I head to the border and investigate the edge of this fake world?
Since this place faithfully replicates the market district, well, at least Rue Anarchie and Rue des Blouses Blanches, it resembles a reflection. Could I find the exit by locating distinct places?
The Church has always told us that we can seek refuge in the cathedral in times of danger or accidents… I wonder what église Saint-Robert looks like here. Does it seek God's protection or adhere to the Black Sun? If it's truly the Black Sun, it's an entirely different realm…
Jenna decided to stealthily make her way to Avenue du Marché and observe the state of the Eternal Blazing Sun Church's église Saint-Robert in this strange world.
She made sure not to expose herself to passersby, residents on both sides, or newsboys peddling their wares. Through the various shadows, she carefully and quietly turned onto Avenue du Marché.
After advancing a distance, Jenna's eyes suddenly froze.
There was no sign of Salle de Bal Brise on Avenue du Marché!
Where the khaki-colored building and the skull statue should have been, there was only impenetrable darkness. Even the sunlight from the sky couldn't pierce it.
In this dark black hole-like scene, bright red lines alternated between slowly materializing and being consumed by the surroundings. Their ultimate destination remained a mystery.
What's most peculiar about this place is Salle de Bal Brise? Ciel mentioned that there's something ancient and sinister beneath Salle de Bal Brise… Jenna stared into the darkness, sensing that this might be the heart of the problem.
Muttering to herself, Jenna contemplated, Will I be able to leave this strange world by walking into that darkness? But I have a hunch that not only does it not lead to safety, but it also represents danger. I can't enter rashly…
As these thoughts raced through Jenna's mind, she was suddenly jolted by a commotion.
Swiftly, she cast her gaze towards the other end of Avenue du Marché, where she spotted several indistinct figures hovering in the air, emitting a faint glow as they meticulously scrutinized every shadow and conceivable hiding spot for humans.
They clutched a stack of papers, which they compared to the pedestrians on the road.
Jenna's heart tightened as a thought crossed her mind.
Did the masters or guards of this world discover the collapsing tunnel above and suspect that outsiders had entered, prompting them to launch a thorough search?
Uncertain about the abilities of these blurry figures emitting a faint light, Jenna didn't dare risk assuming they couldn't spot her lurking in the shadows. Her only option was to swiftly retrace her steps and return to Rue des Blouses Blanches, planning to take a detour through an area that had already been inspected.
Yet, even on the other side of Rue des Blouses Blanches, faintly-lit figures were conducting inspections.
Jenna's heart raced, and amidst her unease, she had a sudden idea.
She slipped into a nearby building, scattered dust in an inconspicuous corner, and recited an incantation to become invisible.
With this newfound invisibility, she dashed along the street's shadows and infiltrated Apartment 601 before the floating figures could search 3 Rue des Blouses Blanches.
After patiently waiting for several moments, Jenna discreetly followed the imposter Jenna into the washroom.
Seizing the moment while the impostor was occupied with washing a piece of cloth, Jenna, still in her invisibility state, drew a dagger and executed an Assassin's Mighty Blow.
Her form materialized as her dagger found its mark in the impostor Jenna's back.
The fake Jenna's eyes bulged in shock, but Jenna swiftly covered her mouth and nose to stifle any outcry.
After a brief struggle, the imposter met her end.
Rather than withdrawing her dagger, Jenna chose to change into the fake Jenna's clothes. Her extensive experience with worn-out clothes helped her conceal the hole at the back.
She then concealed the impostor's body in the cupboard beneath the sink to prevent any blood from flowing.
With this done, Jenna wrangled up the cloth and mimicked the actions she had observed, maintaining the vacant expression.
Soon, a faint figure floated outside Apartment 601's window.
Jenna didn't look up, continuing to tidy the coffee table, which had already been devoid of miscellaneous items. She could sense two substantial gazes on her, accompanied by the sound of paper being flipped.
After an agonizing seven to eight seconds, the faint figures moved on to search the next apartment.
Jenna let out a relieved breath and proceeded to the washroom with a measured pace.
After what had just transpired, she felt an urgency to seek help. She couldn't afford to wait any longer. Even the suspected exit seemed too dangerous to approach, and numerous figures emitting a faint light were "patrolling" the area.
While these figures didn't appear overly formidable, Jenna knew that engaging them would undoubtedly draw the attention of the administrators of this world.
If this place was indeed the Hostel, the previous residents, granted boons by evil gods, would pose a significant threat. This included Madame Night Pualis, who alternated between a demigod and a Sequence 5, or the true demigod, Circle Inhabitant Voisin Sanson.
Jenna hadn't reached out to the outside world for help from the beginning because she lacked the means to send a message without leaving this place. Now, she was left with no other choice but to attempt something.
I wonder if the telegraph office here can be of any use… It doesn't seem promising… Uh… perhaps I should offer a prayer to a deity and recite His honorific name in Hermes. I hope He can hear my plea…
Jenna's heart raced as she seized the opportunity to clean the cloth in the washroom. She outstretched her arms and began reciting the honorific name of the Eternal Blazing Sun.
"The mighty Eternal Blazing Sun, Inextinguishable Light, Embodiment of Order, God of Deeds…"
As the soft Hermes words reverberated, Jenna's surroundings remained unchanged.
She couldn't help but regret not having made up her mind after becoming a Witch and putting her faith in Mr. Fool. That way, she might have obtained The Fool's honorific name from Lumian. But now, it was too late to consider that option.
Phew… Jenna let out a sigh and retrieved the lucky gold coin from a hidden pocket in her light-blue dress.
She felt that her best option was to rely on luck for now. She wanted to see if luck alone could help her elicit a response without using a complete honorific name.
Holding the lucky gold coin, Jenna continued her prayer in Hermes, "Great Mr. Fool, please help me leave this place. Please protect Trier…"
…
In the market district, Auberge du Coq Doré, Room 207.
Lumian suddenly awoke, sensing a faint warmth in his left chest.
-x-X-x-
What happened? Mr. Fool's seal has been activated… Did Termiboros attempt to escape? Lumian's thoughts raced. However, as he pondered, he began to sense that something was amiss.
Sunlight filtered through the drawn curtains, casting a semi-darkness over Room 207.
At first glance, there was nothing unusual, as if someone had overslept until the sun was high in the sky.
But Lumian was different. He reset his body and mental state every morning, waking up naturally at 6 a.m. It was already autumn, and Trier didn't see the first light until 7 a.m.
Lumian recalled an earthquake that had occurred not long ago, and he suspected that the official Beyonders might have taken action. However, after carefully listening to his surroundings and confirming the safety of the market district, he had gone back to sleep.
It was still late at night!
Either Termiboros has escaped, and I'm no longer affected by the Circle Inhabitant's power, or there's been an anomaly in the market district… Lumian shrank into a gentle crouch, leaning against the desk beside the bed. He cautiously raised a corner of the curtain.
What he saw was a familiar daily scene, but soon, Lumian noticed blurry figures floating in the air, emitting a faint, eerie glow.
These figures had different faces, but they all shared an unsettling stiffness, emptiness, coldness, and detachment. They bore a certain resemblance to the corrupted Bouvard's corpse and Gabriel, who had transformed into a monster. It was as if they could disappear into the crevices of space at any moment, gazing coldly and dispassionately at reality.
The monsters of the Hostel pathway have invaded Trier? But where are Trier's protective powers? This doesn't feel very strong; it's more like a product of corruption… He observed carefully and noticed that the street vendors and pedestrians also appeared somewhat empty, as if they too had been affected.
Combined with the anomaly in time and the westering sun, Lumian quickly surmised the situation.
I'm not in the real market district!
I've been drawn into a strange world suspected to be the Hostel. This is the reason why Mr. Fool's seal was activated!
Lumian released his right hand's grip, allowing the curtains to gently fall back against the wall, sealing off the interior from the exterior once more.
With a sense of purpose, he got out of bed and checked his belongings to ensure they were all intact.
Without wasting any time, Lumian set up the altar and erected a wall of spirituality, readying himself to perform ritualistic magic to seek Mr. Fool's assistance.
One by one, he used his spirituality to light the three candles and incinerate the herbal powder and essential oil. Stepping back twice, he began to solemnly recite The Fool's honorific name.
"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era, the mysterious ruler above the gray fog; the King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck.
"I implore you…"
Lumian's thoughts slowed down once more, and an uncomfortable sensation coursed through his flesh. It was as if an army of countless worms were wriggling beneath his skin.
This malevolence would briefly fade, only to surge back. It didn't fully dissipate, nor did it manifest into tangible reality.
The cycle of vanishing and resurfacing was akin to a monstrous entity in the water extending its tentacles to the shore, only to be pulled back into the deep sea by an unseen force.
Lumian struggled to complete the ritual, waiting in vain for the angel's protection or any revelations to come.
The influence of the gray fog intensified, leaving him with no choice but to prematurely end the ritual and extinguish the candle flames.
As the wall of spirituality disintegrated, Lumian's thoughts finally returned to their normal pace.
Sometimes malice, sometimes no issues… Is The Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings interfering with Mr. Fool's response?
He usually can't do it. Has He gathered enough strength to take a risk at a critical moment?
This implies that the situation has reached a critical turning point…
…
In Quartier éraste, outside the Sacred Heart Cloister with its numerous golden steeples, the Major Arcana card holders, Magician—clad in a white knotted shirt and a beige dress—and the elegant and pristine Justice, stared at the magnificent building.
A golden retriever accompanied them, doing the same as well.
Rumble. The ground quaked, as if a brief earthquake had struck Trier.
Magician smiled and said, "It's beginning."
They understood that this commotion was likely stemming from the Deep Valley Cloister and the quarry. Their aim was to initiate a series of changes and set off a chain reaction, with the hope that Lady Moon, hidden within the Sacred Heart Cloister, would step out on her own and trigger their plan ahead of schedule.
By doing so, they could avoid forcefully entering the Sacred Heart Cloister and provoking the Eternal Blazing Sun Church. Their target was Lady Moon, the evil god's bestowed who nurtured a deity.
Assuming there were very few Angel-level heretics Blessed within the barrier, Lady Moon represented the Great Mother and the most potent power among all of Trier's heretics. It was highly likely that she was at the center of the problem. By controlling her, they could disregard the intricate web woven by fate and grasp the heart of the issue, possibly resolving it on the spot.
If Lady Moon didn't emerge, Magician intended to capitalize on the chaos in Trier, attempting to conceal the grand complex of buildings blessed by the Eternal Blazing Sun, and forcibly locate her target.
Justice nodded gently.
"In fact, I've always had a sense that something is amiss with Lady Moon. The problem may not be what we've suspected and might have lured us here.
"However, regardless of the situation, we have many dependable companions. Even if something occurs elsewhere, I believe they can handle it."
Magician concurred tersely.
"The two of us can't do everything. Believing in our companions is both hopeful and necessary."
Justice asked calmly, "What's the matter?"
Magician frowned and replied, "The seal experienced a fluctuation… Mr. Fool has also sent a revelation, but I'm not certain if it's authentic…"
…
After tidying up the altar, Lumian was just about to settle down and consider the current situation and ways to contact the outside world when he heard two sets of footsteps approaching from upstairs.
Are they heading for Room 207? Had the dissolution of the wall of spirituality alerted someone here? Lumian surveyed the area, his fingers finding the gaps in the newspaper-covered wall as he climbed up to the ceiling.
Like a colossal spider, he relied on a Dancer's flexibility and a Hunter's physique to silently cling closely to the wall, waiting for the two people in the corridor to approach.
If they didn't spot anything unusual, he would consider it a successful deception and let them pass. If they sensed anything was amiss, he would strike without hesitation.
At that moment, Lumian felt a deep sense of gratitude for Auberge du Coq Doré's aged appearance. It was filled with damage and signs of repair. This was why he could grasp certain protrusions, secure his grip in certain crevices, and anchor his body safely to the ceiling.
In just over ten seconds, the door to Room 207 creaked open.
Lumian's eyes focused on Gabriel's hairline and forehead, as well as the black-framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
Behind the playwright stood Séraphine, a model clad in a lake-blue dress, exuding an aura of detachment.
It's indeed the Hostel… Although Lumian couldn't fathom why he had inexplicably ended up at the Hostel, he still felt a surge of excitement despite his taut nerves.
From this point onward, as long as he could deceive Séraphine and the others, establish a connection with the outside world, and seek help, there was hope for resolving the problem!
Gabriel took two steps inside and halted. He scanned the room and said to Séraphine, "No issues here."
Séraphine tersely acknowledged his words and proceeded to inspect the other rooms.
Gabriel followed the model closely, making sure to close the door of Room 207 behind him.
After they ascended from the second floor, Lumian released his grip on the ceiling and gently landed on the floor.
He pulled up a chair, turned it around, and sat down, leaning back as he kept his gaze locked on the door.
After a few minutes, footsteps approached from the third floor.
Lumian remained motionless, unsurprised as he watched the wooden door gently open.
Gabriel's figure appeared.
"Why did you come in?" the playwright, now a monster with a slightly vacant expression, asked with a note of rational concern.
Lumian chuckled.
"I'd like to know that too."
Gabriel entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind him.
He was dressed in a white shirt, a dark jacket, black pants, and strapless leather shoes, his face showing signs of pain.
"Leave this place as soon as possible. I'm losing control. I don't know when I'll betray you. By the way, Jenna has also entered. I don't know where she's hiding."
Jenna is here too? Lumian raised his eyebrows and asked the most critical question, "How do I leave?"
Gabriel began to respond, but the door to Room 207 creaked open once more.
Only then did Lumian sense the intrusion and turned his gaze towards the door.
Séraphine stood there, with her plump face, naturally disheveled brown hair, and brown eyes exuding a unique ethereal aura.
Lumian didn't panic. He put on a calm demeanor and said, "You seem to know Gabriel so well."
Despite his outward composure, every muscle in his body tensed.
"He's not good at hiding his thoughts," Séraphine replied in an empty voice.
Communicable… Lumian suppressed his urge to use the Spell of Harrumph and sighed.
"I thought you had already become a pure monster."
Séraphine's lips formed a self-deprecating smile.
"The difference between me and them is that before I turned into a pure monster, I realized there was still someone who truly loved me."
Gabriel smiled.
Lumian sighed and inquired, "Is this the Hostel?"
"Yes," Gabriel confirmed before anyone else could.
Lumian glanced at the dimly lit corridor.
"But the room here isn't Room 7, Room 12. It's still Room 207, 309."
Séraphine gazed at Lumian, her expression becoming increasingly ethereal, and her voice even more illusory.
"Here, they call me: Room 12."