62 COI

Bang!

The jet-black bullet, ablaze with fiery fury, slammed into Gardner Martin, who was gripped by desire, dead center in his gleaming silver armor once again.

It hit him like a battering ram, sending shockwaves through his frame.

A web of fractures sprawled out from the impact zone, causing Gardner Martin's advance to stagger, forcing him to lean backward.

This abrupt jolt snapped him out of his reverie. He witnessed General Philip, wreathed in black flames and encased in frost, while Lumian materialized behind the Deceased. Lumian's right hand acted as a revolver, launching a crimson fireball straight at the back of Philip's head.

Behind Gardner Martin's mask, his pupils dilated, and a shiver raced down his spine, as if an icy cascade had been dumped over him.

This abrupt awakening effectively quelled his desires. Without hesitation, he dropped to one knee and drove the hefty broadsword into the wilderness.

The broadsword shattered, breaking into myriad fragments of light that swept toward Franca, Lumian, and the others, including the lifeless form of General Philip.

Amidst a resounding crack, Franca, constantly shifting positions, remained enveloped by the Hurricane of Light, her body fracturing like a shattered mirror.

Lumian and Jenna met the same fate. Only Anthony Reid, lacking Mirror Substitution, instinctively lunged to the ground, curling up to shield his vital parts.

The luminous tempest rapidly dissipated before Lumian and his companions outlined themselves on the outskirts of the wilderness, facing the pale-black stone bricks.

They witnessed a brilliant white flaming spear hurtling towards the distant majestic city, covering more than a hundred meters in the blink of an eye.

As soon as the fiery-spear materialized upon impact with the ground, Gardner Martin, draped in silver armor, rose again, directing his focus towards the city veiled in a thin fog.

After several consecutive attempts, Gardner Martin distanced himself from Franca and the others, sprinting towards the dilapidated structures at the city's periphery.

Lumian chose not to pursue him. Instead, he sprinted to the edge of the Sunrise Gleam to check on Anthony Reid.

The Psychiatrist's body bore a multitude of bloody wounds, with the most severe on the left side of his back, revealing a glimpse of his beating heart.

Lying on his side, curled up and bloodied, Anthony Reid forced a smile upon seeing Lumian.

There was no fear of death in that smile—only relief, relaxation, and satisfaction.

The taste of revenge was indeed sweet.

Observing Anthony Reid's lips moving as if he intended to entrust something, Lumian scoffed and remarked, "Do you wish to utter your final words? Do you want us to dispatch your belongings to your home on the West Midseashire Coast?"

As he spoke, Lumian retrieved a silver earring, securing it to his left earlobe.

Squatting down, he pressed his left hand against the gaping wound on Anthony's back.

Abruptly, his palm slid upward, and the gruesome wound shifted to Anthony's shoulder.

In the blink of an eye, the most critical injury on Anthony's body vanished, leaving him as good as new. However, the initially minor wounds on his shoulder deepened, revealing white bones and causing blood to seep out.

This was Lie's Damage Transfer, capable of addressing one wound at a time.

Anthony was taken aback, feeling as if life had been restored to him.

Though the pain persisted, and his body weakened, at least the specter of imminent death had dissipated.

Then, Jenna approached, placing him in a supine position.

With a swift pfft, Jenna thrust an obsidian arrow into Anthony's chest.

The Arrow of the Bloodthirsty promptly absorbed the blood, turning Anthony's pupils red. The invisible flames in the sky seemed a bit blinding, and the scent of blood in the air proved enticing.

Simultaneously, the smaller wounds on his body swiftly healed, and the more severe ones showed significant improvement. In a matter of minutes, they should close up on their own, ceasing to impede his movements.

Anthony Reid, teetering on the edge of death, stood up, bewildered, examining his body with disbelief.

I've nearly recovered? I'm alright just like that? As a Spectator, his emotions visibly fluctuated.

"Not a bad combination," Franca praised. "As long as you don't perish on the spot and refrain from losing control and transforming into a monster, there's still a chance to save you. At most, you'll become weakened."

Lie's Damage Transfer, coupled with the formidable self-healing abilities bestowed by the Arrow of the Bloodthirsty, produced such a remarkable effect.

Franca turned her gaze to Lumian, questioning, "I thought you'd intercept Gardner Martin."

In that critical moment, the others couldn't match Gardner Martin's speed as he fled. Only Lumian, capable of Spirit World Traversal, had the potential to catch up and effectively hinder him.

"Do you think I didn't want to?" Lumian retorted, a note of mockery in his tone.

However, he lacked the ability!

Had he not been affected by Voisin Sanson's Circle Inhabitant during his first "teleportation" today, returning him to his original spot without expending his spirituality, Lumian wouldn't have maintained a stable state. He wouldn't even have been able to use Lie for Damage Transfer. He would have had to rely on Franca or Jenna. How could he possibly have caught up to Gardner Martin?

Franca instantly grasped Lumian's meaning—he had engaged in battles before and after entering this place, and his spirituality was on the verge of depletion.

"Alright." Franca shifted her attention to the two Primordial Demoness figurines, one black and one white, lying undisturbed on the ground, untouched by the Hurricane of Light. Frowning, she inquired, "Where should I toss these two?"

Them constantly causing abnormalities seemed like a scam!

"Take them with you." Lumian considered for a moment before smiling. "If it weren't for them, how could we have dispatched General Philip so effortlessly? We might need them to escape in the future. Yes, we can't entrust both to one person. You take one, and Jenna will take the other."

After a brief pause, Franca responded, "I'll still take the white one."

As a member of the Demoness Sect, holding the orthodox Primordial Demoness figurine was only natural.

Observing Jenna pick up the pitch-black Primordial Demoness figurine, Franca muttered in confusion, "Why is there such a figurine? According to the Purifiers' dossier and information from other secret organizations, members of the Demoness Sect only carry bone figurines. There's nothing that's so black."

While Franca spoke, she scrutinized the charred Primordial Demoness bone figurine, comparing it with her own.

Soon, she discerned differences in the details.

Aside from the stark white and pitch-black hues, the eyes at the tips of the Primordial Demoness's snake-like hair faced different directions. If one looked left, the other would undoubtedly look right.

"Like a mirror image, mirror… Is this the Primordial Demoness in the mirror?" Franca ventured a guess, amalgamating the abilities and traits of the Demoness pathway with her experience in the peculiar mirror world. "This shouldn't be possible under normal circumstances. It wouldn't be easy for the Iron and Blood Cross Order to find such a figurine…"

She now comprehended the reason behind their encounters with Gardner Martin and General Philip.

This was a manifestation of the Law of Beyonder Characteristics Convergence. Except for Anthony, an unwitting Psychiatrist brought in by his companion, everyone present was either a Hunter or a Demoness.

Furthermore, Franca and Anthony had entered through the same method as General Philip. They would inevitably emerge at the edge of this wilderness, teeming with mirror fragments.

Primordial Demoness in the mirror… Lumian found the description ominous.

Without delay, he addressed Franca and the others, "Search General Philip's corpse and help me guard the surroundings. I'll set up a ritual to restore my spirituality."

Jenna expressed surprise. "There's a ritual that can restore spirituality?"

Her gaze naturally swept over General Philip's corpse, realizing it had been split into five or six pieces, each a gruesome mess.

The Beyonder characteristics had yet to emerge at that moment. The boon from the evil god couldn't return to its source, slowly sinking back into the lifeless form.

Lumian entered a dimly lit area with grayish-white stone pillars, found cover, and swiftly set up the altar. Franca could surmise who he was praying to, so she joined him to guard against any unforeseen incidents.

Jenna contemplated for a few seconds before approaching the altar. Retrieving the lucky gold coin, she said to Lumian, "This is the lucky gold coin that the boy gave me. I don't know if it's useful when given to others, but there's no harm in trying."

She delegated the task of searching the corpse to Anthony Reid, who was rapidly recovering.

Franca observed in silence for a moment before affirming, "True."

Lumian didn't hesitate. After all, Will had a close connection to the Tarot Club. Even if the lucky gold coin couldn't be lent to others, it wouldn't bring about any negative effects.

Placing the Loen gold pound on the altar, Lumian conjured a wall of spirituality, ignited all the candles, and took two steps back.

Rather than proceeding with the boon-seeking ritual, he attempted to recite Mr. 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…"

As Hermes reverberated, the lucky gold coin on the altar illuminated. A thin gray fog emanated from the wall of spirituality, enveloping the wilderness's periphery.

The fog in the distant majestic city appeared to thicken.

Before long, just as Lumian began praying for a boon, a frenzied and terrifying roar echoed from the area where the weather was chaotic and faint giant figures lingered.

Despite the thin gray fog, the four of them felt dizzy. The blood in their bodies raced, and their hearts pounded.

"It's truly useful. It's genuinely lucky…" Lumian gazed at the dazzling golden coin on the altar, sighing sincerely.

Had it not been for the ritual and Mr. Fool's gray fog's protection, the roar could have inflicted severe damage, especially considering Lumian's nearly depleted spirituality. He might have lost control, putting Anthony Reid, still recovering from severe injuries, in jeopardy.

Phew… Lumian exhaled and continued to recite in a deep voice under the watchful eyes of Franca and Jenna, "Power of Inevitability!

"You are the past, the present, and the future;

"You are the cause, the effect, and the process…"

-x-X-x-

Amidst the frenzied and terrifying roars, a hurricane tore through the abnormally chaotic weather, shrouding the scene in smoke, flames, lightning, and hail. It spiraled into the sky, merging with the silent inferno.

Not far from the apocalypse-like hurricane, two figures felt the impact of the roar simultaneously. One's head tilted back slightly, as if punched, while the other's wrinkles quivered, and his eyes grew sharper.

The former was the man who had originally stood behind Olson, vice president of the Iron and Blood Cross Order, Tony Twain. The latter was aged, donning a blue military suit with a sash and medals. His neatly combed back dark-red hair identified him as the mysterious president of the Iron and Blood Cross Order, known as Diest.

Diest shifted his gaze from the hurricane to Tony Twain.

"The chance to become a Conqueror is before us. If I can seize it, I'll find a way to separate the Weather Warlock's Beyonder characteristic and bestow it upon you."

As Tony Twain observed the violent hurricane, lightning, and torrential rain, his light-blue eyes hinted at mockery.

"Can we really succeed? A Weather Warlock has already joined. Even if Vermonda Sauron loses control and transforms into a monster, he's still a Sequence 1 monster."

Tony Twain's words showed no respect for a Sequence 2 Weather Warlock or a Sequence 1 Conqueror, despite not being an Angel yet.

Diest's expression remained unchanged, and his aura surged.

With his military attire, he resembled the commander-in-chief of all armies.

"Elsewhere, we'll surely fail. Even without interference, we'll need to embark on a lengthy hunt to stand a chance against the out-of-control Vermonda Sauron. But here…" Diest spoke in a deep voice, "We can harness that power for a brief period."

As he finished speaking, the area between his brows turned red, as if something sought to emerge.

Simultaneously, Diest retrieved a coin pouch from his waist, concealed beneath his suit.

Filled with soybeans and a few palm-sized iron soldiers, Diest grabbed them and tossed them forward.

Amidst the howling wind, the iron soldiers sprang to life and expanded. The soybeans swelled rapidly, transforming into giants with blurred faces and yellowish skin, as if soaked in water.

Failing to bring his team here in time, Diest abruptly transformed into a blazing dark-red, nearly purple flame, engulfing the newly created soldiers.

A beam of light shot up, tearing through the sky and homing in on the giant figure within the hurricane.

…

At the edge of the magnificent city veiled in a thin gray fog, Gardner Martin removed his helmet. His breastplate bore web-like cracks, revealing blood-stained clothes beneath.

With one hand pressed against his head, he staggered forward, intermittently emitting crimson flames bordering on white.

The terrifying roar had clearly taken its toll.

Navigating through the ruins, Gardner Martin quickly approached the thin gray fog. Half-collapsed asymmetrical buildings stood within, seemingly frozen in time, struck by a devastating blow and sunk into the ground.

Abruptly halting, Gardner Martin glanced to the side and asked in a deep voice, "Who is it?"

Amidst the sound of gravel tumbling, Olson, resembling a hungry bear, emerged from behind a collapsed black building, carrying a small brown suitcase.

The Supervisor, sporting a half top hat, yellow vest, and black suit, looked at Gardner Martin and said, "I didn't know who was coming, so I hid for a while. Where's Philip?"

Gardner Martin breathed a sigh of relief and replied, "We encountered Lumian Lee and his team. They killed Philip. I was injured and barely managed to escape."

Olson, with his thick beard, didn't delve into the details of the battle and sized up Gardner Martin. "You're quite beaten up."

Gardner Martin chuckled, saying,

"Fortunately, I had Pride Armor to shield me from most of the damage. Yeah, I blame it mainly on the angelic roar; it affected me to a certain extent. Fortunately, I was relatively far away, so the problem isn't that serious. Look, even the Pride Armor hasn't attacked me, indicating that I haven't weakened."

"That's good. Let's enter Fourth Epoch Trier now," Supervisor Olson nodded with an indifferent expression.

Gardner Martin turned around, clutching the silver helmet with one arm, and walked towards the thin gray fog not far away.

Olson carried a small brown suitcase and trailed behind the Commanding Officer of the Iron and Blood Cross Order.

As the two advanced, Olson's eyes suddenly turned fierce and vicious.

You'd used 'fortunately' twice… You've already taken off the Pride Armor's helmet… Olson muttered silently to himself, his brownish-red eyes reflecting Gardner Martin's staggering figure in the silver armor.

…

At the edge of the wilderness, scattered with mirror fragments, Franca and Jenna couldn't hear the chants emanating from the wall of spirituality, but they observed the grayish-white stone pillar and two candles of the same color mysteriously softening. Fist-sized candle flames flickered in silver-white and black, while an illusory pewter-black liquid oozed from Lumian's chest, enveloping him.

As Lumian curled up on the ground, occasionally rolling, Franca sighed softly and remarked, "It looks painful…"

This likely marked Ciel's fourth encounter with such an ordeal.

"That's right." Despite standing outside the wall of spirituality, Jenna felt an inexplicable fear, goosebumps forming on her skin.

While she had witnessed Ciel's mental pain and confusion, this was her first time witnessing such intense physical suffering.

Franca spoke sincerely, "If Ciel were to switch to the Affliction potion now, he wouldn't have to worry about not reaching Sequence 4. It's too compatible!"

Sequence 5 of the Assassin pathway was known as Affliction or the Demoness of Affliction.

After another terrifying roar, the silver-black illusory liquid beads on Lumian's body seeped into him. His expression gradually relaxed, and his body ceased its curled-up state.

He lay sprawled beside the collapsed grayish-white stone pillar, reluctant to move for a few seconds.

While his spirituality had recovered and even increased, his body and mind were visibly exhausted. It was akin to the sensation one experienced after completing an exceptionally challenging task in their most focused state.

Lumian, aware of the urgency, forced himself to his feet.

He noticed that the silver-black candle flame had returned to normal, and the surrounding gray fog was gradually dissipating.

His plan to rely on the gray fog's protection against the terrifying roar had failed before implementation.

Mr. Fool's response had a time limit!

Furthermore, he had to consider the interference of the Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings.

As Lumian swiftly tidied up the altar, he scrutinized his transformation:

The improvement in spirituality was evident with the Ascetic boon. Lumian believed that even after using the Spell of Harrumph a few times, he could complete nearly eight Spirit World Traversals.

Ascetic had also enhanced his endurance, making him more adaptable to extreme weather. Even if he encountered frost, he wouldn't be frozen. Similarly, he found himself better at enduring emotions and desires. While he still felt them, he could endure many things.

This extended to an Ascetic's core ability, Compression. It could be used for the mind and also produced positive effects in the physical and mystic domains.

The former involved emotions and desires, which were mostly tolerated. They didn't completely disappear but were suppressed. At critical points, they needed to be vented or relieved, or psychological problems could arise. The Compression ability could accumulate these emotions and desires and erupt at critical moments for the desired effect. For Lumian, the negative effects of the Contractee's three abilities and the corresponding effects of mystical items on him were more bearable. However, he needed to regularly break an enemy's neck as a way to vent.

The latter aspect referred to spirituality, strength, and ritual steps. Through Compression, Lumian could compress and store spirituality and strength beyond the average person when he had nothing to do, releasing them when needed. This allowed his spirituality to recover once and temporarily enlarge him. His strength, speed, and agility were sufficient to withstand a Sequence 6 Dawn Paladin of the Warrior pathway for a minute or two. Additionally, the accumulation of ritual steps enabled Lumian to use abilities like the Animal Creation Spell and the Exorcism Spell in actual combat.

Furthermore, after becoming an Ascetic, Lumian's previous boons had been enhanced. For instance, the number of contract abilities he could withstand had increased to three, although he didn't want to maximize them. He preferred choosing one or two suitable ones, as too many contracts brought too many negative effects. Even Ascetics would suffer because of them, as evidenced by negative examples like Guillaume Bénet and Bouvard.

Of course, this wasn't an immediate concern, as summoning creatures from the spirit world was impossible in this location.

Lumian swiftly stashed away the items and dispelled the wall of spirituality. Handing back the fortunate gold coin to Jenna, he spoke in a low, commanding tone, "Let's make our way to Fourth Epoch Trier."

"Huh?" Jenna was bewildered.

Ciel had warned them to steer clear of the giant and the grand city!

Franca looked back with contemplation and said, "Do you suspect that the fog shrouding the city belongs to Mr. Fool? Entering might provide some protection. We won't have to worry about getting taken out by that lunatic's roar or succumbing to the risk of transforming into a monster?"

"Yes, it's dangerous, but there's a chance for us to defend ourselves and await further developments." Lumian inferred that the same fog enshrouded Fourth Epoch Trier, drawing from the fog around the Samaritan Women's Spring and the lingering shadows of significant figures from the Fourth Epoch.

It emanated from Mr. Fool's powers!

Franca wasted no time and nodded decisively. "Okay."

Jenna chose to trust her two companions without delving into questions.

At that moment, Anthony Reid had finished clearing the battlefield and approached with the spoils.

-x-X-x-

"Found these…" he began to explain, but Lumian swiftly cut him off.

Clear and rapid, Lumian outlined their plan, "We're heading to the outskirts of the city enveloped by the gray fog. Want to come with us?"

Anthony Reid's eyelids twitched. "Okay."

He knew going solo could mean a swift demise, especially if the terrifying roar echoed again.

Lumian wasn't in a hurry to inquire about General Philip's belongings. Gripping Jenna and Anthony, he signaled Franca to hold onto his collar.

A dark light emanated from the black mark on his shoulder as the quartet disappeared, seemingly teleporting to the periphery of the majestic yet crumbling city, just before the thin gray fog.

What they saw was where they arrived.

Lumian attempted to step into the gray fog, but the seal on his chest remained dormant.

Franca and the others could traverse it without his guidance.

…

Resembling a hungry bear, Olson fixed his gaze on Gardner Martin's head, devoid of its helmet. His brownish-red eyes flickered with a sinister light, pinpointing Martin's vulnerability.

In mere seconds, Olson identified Martin's weakest spot.

Even if he couldn't deal a fatal blow, inflicting damage to the party again meant a high chance that the Pride Armor would betray its wearer and kill him!

Silently, Olson reached into his pocket, retrieving a yellow bullet held between his thumb and index finger.

A crimson, nearly white fireball rapidly condensed in his palm, leading to a controlled explosion.

The violent shockwave propelled the bullet towards the back of Gardner Martin's head with a thunderous boom.

Gardner Martin staggered, narrowly avoiding the bullet.

Nearly simultaneously, the surroundings were bathed in the bright and holy Sunrise Gleam.

Black smoke billowed from Olson's body as if a long-dead zombie had been exposed to the sunlight created by the Purifiers.

Meanwhile, Gardner Martin, no longer feeble, donned his helmet with a cold expression and sharp eyes.

Despite Olson's formidable resistance to scorching flames, his skull suffered charring from the impact. As the flames dissipated, Gardner Martin's figure detached from the burning spear. Clenching his silver-armored fist, he swung it at Olson's head from midair.

As the flames dissipated, Gardner Martin's figure detached from the burning spear. Clenching his silver-armored fist, he swung it at Olson's head from midair.

Olson's neck snapped, and his head flew up, dragging along a bloody spine.

Gardner Martin's skull-crushing punch missed, and he landed on the ground once again.

However, a heavy and sharp broadsword of light materialized in his other hand at some point, ready for the next phase of the battle.

Gardner Martin thrust the broadsword into the blackened soil, unleashing a terrifying storm. Countless light fragments filled the air, creating chaos in the vicinity.

The Pride Armor swiftly condensed the Sword of Dawn again, the Hurricane of Light forming with a much shorter interval than an ordinary Sequence 6 Dawn Paladin. Only a minute or two had passed since Gardner Martin last wielded this formidable power.

Olson, reduced to just his head with a brownish-red beard, showed focus in his eyes and attempted to merge with a burning-white spear for a hasty retreat.

However, the storm arrived, its light engulfing him completely.

As the Hurricane of Light subsided, Olson's body displayed severe damage, riddled with cracks, some piercing through his chest and tearing internal organs. His severed head, carried by a bloody spine, bore the marks of destruction—eyes and nose obliterated, skull cracked, and blackened brain exposed.

Gardner Martin, poised and composed, conjured ten to twenty crimson fireballs.

They darted toward Olson's nearly unconscious head, triggering a resounding explosion that shattered the head into fragments and liquid, splattering on the ground.

With a chuckle, Gardner Martin raised his visor, surveying Olson's headless corpse and the scattered skull. He remarked, "I've always found you a little odd. This was a good opportunity to test you. I didn't expect you to really attack me. That's good too. Not only have I eliminated a hidden danger, but I've also counteracted the traitorous curse of the Pride Armor."

Deliberately appearing fine while exposing some problems through the details was meant to bait Olson—simple acts of vulnerability could easily raise the other party's vigilance and suspicion.

With a sigh, Gardner approached the battered suitcase that had fallen to the ground and lifted it, on the verge of shattering.

He had long been curious about its contents, as Olson had always evaded the question. Now, Gardner could finally open it himself.

Gardner Martin unlatched the suitcase and opened it in front of him.

Inside was a head.

The features were unmistakable—deep facial features, brownish-red eyes, slightly disheveled black hair, a few silver strands at the temples, and well-defined facial features. The head which wasn't considered thin was stained with blood.

It was Gardner Martin!

It was Gardner Martin's own head!

…

As they advanced, the looming, half-collapsed palace drew nearer. The city bore the brunt of colossal damage, as if a giant had delivered a devastating blow, unleashing shockwaves that wreaked havoc on the surroundings.

Details eluded Lumian's scrutiny. The lack of sufficient light and the considerable distance obscured the exact nature of the scene. Various houses obstructed their view, and only the excessively tall palace and surrounding structures, despite their partial collapse, allowed them a glimpse of the peripheral city.

"Let's find a nearby hiding spot," Franca suggested, her gaze scanning the area. She had no intention of venturing deeper into Fourth Epoch Trier.

The quartet found themselves on a narrow street, where the houses on both sides were so close that occupants could almost shake hands by extending their arms.

The structures, resembling victims of a violent earthquake, teetered but refused to collapse, adorned with ghastly cracks.

Jenna's attention fixated on a relatively intact house. Iron-black in color, it featured an arched window on the left and a square on the right. Dark-red graffiti adorned one side, while the other remained clean. Not a single weed grew between the rocks.

Apart from the two obvious pots, the house exhibited various asymmetrical details, with centipede-like cracks mainly concentrated on the lower left side.

"Should we go there?" Jenna inquired.

Lumian shook his head.

"The more intact, the higher the likelihood of abnormalities. The current state of Fourth Epoch Trier's citizens is unknown.

"Let's find a completely collapsed building to hide behind. At least, everything inside should be buried."

"Agreed," Franca concurred with Lumian's decision.

In Fourth Epoch Trier, she couldn't fully perform Magic Mirror Divination.

Lumian and his team swiftly reached the center of the dimly lit street. In a setting that could plunge into darkness at any given moment, they strategically maneuvered around the ruins of a dark-red building, seeking cover.

It wasn't until now that Anthony Reid seized an opportunity to extract the Arrow of the Bloodthirsty from his chest, returning it to Jenna.

With the dark-stained black cloak spread on the ground, he showcased his findings.

There were three items in total:

The first, a blackened ulna punctuated by dark-red holes, resembling a rough bone flute that had been kept in storage for ages.

The second, a small wooden box painted in dark hues. Compact enough to fit into a concealed pocket, it featured large holes on both sides veiled by swaying, leather-like "curtains."

Lastly, a collection of gold, silver, and copper coins.

Anthony Reid gestured toward the "bone flute" and explained, "This formed from the convergence of light spots on Philip's ulna. It seems something formless has settled on it."

Conspirer or Reaper Beyonder characteristic combined with his ulna and the power of the Deceased boon? Lumian nodded indiscernibly.

Philip hadn't had a chance to retaliate before, leaving him uncertain about the general's Sequence—a Sequence 6 Conspirer or a Sequence 5 Reaper. What was clear, however, was the general's affiliation with the Hunter pathway. This deduction was based on the creation of numerous crimson Fire Ravens, almost white in hue. Moreover, the general wasn't just a Sequence 7.

If it were the latter, Lumian would have been pleased to obtain the main ingredient for his advancement. The issue lay in the mixture of the power with an evil god's boon, rendering it unsuitable for direct use in potion concoction.

"What settled on it is the corruption of an evil god. It was a wise choice not to touch it directly," Lumian informed Anthony.

Within the underground seal, the power of an evil god's boon couldn't return to its source.

"This was found on Philip's body…" Anthony pointed at the dark wooden box. Before he could finish speaking, another frenzied and violent roar echoed from afar.

This time, the four of them, having entered the gray fog, only experienced a slight dizziness and remained unaffected.

-x-X-x-

Franca shook off the dizziness induced by the terrifying roar and sighed from the bottom of her heart.

"As expected, the gray fog here provides protection."

Without it, facing a roar that could harm their Spirit Body and affect their minds would result in losing control, turning into monsters, or immediate death.

"Praise The Fool!" Lumian openly expressed his faith.

He then reminded her in an icy tone, "But the hidden dangers here might be more terrifying than the previous roar."

Franca fell silent for a few seconds before speaking in an encouraging tone, "Hidden dangers are preferable to those that have already surfaced. Let's avoid triggering them. If nothing else occurs, we'll stay in this corner and wait for help!"

While Jenna and Anthony Reid harbored doubts about the strategy of passivity, they hesitated to venture deep into Fourth Epoch Trier and reluctantly accepted the plan that wasn't really a plan.

In the eerie silence, Anthony was the first to regain composure. He pointed at the dark wooden box and stated, "I'm not sure of its purpose. A simple, temporary touch doesn't seem to have any obvious negative effects."

As for the coins, their significance was apparent. A quick glance and rough calculation revealed a total of 312 verl d'or and 26 coppet.

Franca leaned against a collapsed pillar in the shadows, her eyes fixed on the mysterious dark wooden box. "What the hell is this thing?"

It was obviously no ordinary container; its appearance suggested it held some kind of mysterious power.

Lumian and Anthony turned their attention to the Demoness of Pleasure simultaneously.

Lumian chuckled, "I should be the one asking you that."

Franca exclaimed, "There was nothing I could do. I couldn't spare time for spirit channeling, and this place isn't connected to the real spirit world. I can't perform Magic Mirror Divination. To understand the abilities, effects, state, and potential drawbacks of these two items, I'll have to experiment with them myself repeatedly.

"Of course, if we encounter an Artisan, many of our problems might be solved."

She gestured towards Jenna, saying, "Just like the black Primordial Demoness figurine, it undoubtedly has other functions. For instance, it allows the holder to create Mirror Substitution. As for mine, apart from providing a certain anti-divination and early warning effect, it can only be used as a supplicant during rituals.

"They're both figurines, differing only in color and orientation. Why such a significant disparity?"

Franca avoided mentioning why she didn't employ various methods to gather information about the black Primordial Demoness figurine. The unspoken understanding among the group was clear—in their current situation, ensuring their safety took precedence over risking injury or adverse effects to test their spoils of war. Any mishap could lead to dire consequences, potentially even death in the experiment.

As a heavy silence settled among Jenna and the others, Franca sighed inwardly.

The black figurine clearly is problematic, and its mysterious origin is intriguing. It explains why the Demoness Sect wants me to investigate what Gardner had smuggled in through the underground tunnels…

If I hand it over, will the Demoness Sect reward me with the Affliction potion and pledge assistance for my ritual, or will they choose to silence me?

Lumian stroked his chin, addressing Anthony Reid, "In that case, keep the verl d'or. We'll distribute the remaining spoils of war when we return to the surface."

Anthony inquired further, "Should we wrap it in a cloak and place it on the ground before taking it when we leave?"

Lumian smiled and gestured at the charred bone flute,

"Otherwise? You can also carry it with you. This way, we might witness the abilities of a Deceased. Philip died in a hurry and didn't have time to show us.

"Of course, judging from his condition at the time of death, the holder of the item will most likely be the recipient of those abilities in the form of a curse."

Anthony, unfazed by the mockery, pulled up the blood-stained and tattered black cloak, wrapping it around the bone flute and the small wooden box once more.

Lumian, with a thoughtful expression, poked his head out and looked at the abnormally narrow street.

"If we encounter an enemy we find challenging to handle later, we can consider throwing these two items to him. It might have a miraculous effect. General Philip will be very pleased to know that he would still be of use after death."

It might bring about a curse of fate!

Despite the tense atmosphere, Lumian's constant mockery of General Philip brought a slight amusement to Jenna.

"Dammit, General Philip is already dead. There's no need to harp on about him."

Before Lumian could respond to Jenna, two tragic screams pierced the air.

The cries emanated from the same location, filled with undisguised fear.

Soon after, two figures rushed into the narrow street, as if pursuing an unidentified flying object hovering in the air.

Franca, alongside Lumian, peered out of the shadows, her expression freezing at the sight.

The two figures, a man and a woman, were decapitated, their necks mangled, devoid of any signs of bones.

Chasing them were two heads, displaying pure fear and dragging bloody, tail-like spines behind them.

One head belonged to a man with puffed-up cheeks resembling a squirrel. He chewed on long, thick black hair that emerged from his dark brown eyes, nostrils, and ears. Similar hair grew from the headless body chasing him, denser and more exaggerated, resembling seaweed.

The other head belonged to a beautiful woman with black hair and brown eyes. She flew forward frantically, coughing and shaking out resplendent starlight. Gravel in the surroundings, sent flying by the pursuit, swayed as if in slow motion.

Suddenly, the two heads and bodies, about to climb over a collapsed building and exit the narrow street, froze.

The heads shook in confusion, attempting to dispel a discomfort. The headless corpses raised their hands, clutching their left chests.

In mere seconds, the two heads, with bloody spines trailing behind them, plummeted into the collapsed black house, their bodies crashing onto the stacked rocks.

A heavy silence fell upon Lumian and the others.

After a few seconds, Lumian scoffed, "See, this is what happens when you venture deep into Fourth Epoch Trier."

"Do you suspect they're residents of the Hostel?" Jenna inquired thoughtfully.

Lumian replied with a smirk, "Otherwise? "Where else could you find such fresh heads and bodies in an ancient ruin that's been buried for a millennium or two?"

This brought back memories of Supervisor Olson. He had been in this state when he first appeared.

Now, Lumian was almost certain that Olson was a true monster, with a head and body that could be separated.

Franca also recalled Gardner Martin's servants. She withdrew her gaze and pondered for a moment before stating,

"Why do bodiless heads still cough, as if they're sick…? What happened to them at the end seems like a cerebral infarction. The two headless bodies show signs of cardiac arrest.

"Is this the work of the Sick Church's evil god's bestowed, or is there another murderer?

"Right, a Sequence 5 of the Demoness pathway is called Affliction. It can spread various illnesses, and I can enter this place with the Primordial Demoness figurine and the ancient silver mirror…

"This place clearly has a lot to do with the Demoness pathway. Could the high-level power leaking out cause monsters to fall ill and die?"

"Not bad. You still have some intelligence at critical moments," Lumian praised mockingly.

Jenna, on the other hand, rejoiced.

"Fortunately, we didn't venture too deep. Otherwise, who knows when we'd fall ill and die."

Lumian smiled at her.

"Why do you think we're not currently surrounded by disease?"

"B-but we didn't cough…" Jenna's voice trailed off as she glanced at the hidden pocket of her clothes.

Inside was the pitch-black Primordial Demoness figurine.

Franca also peered into her pocket, as if she could discern the bone-carved Primordial Demoness figurine through the fabric.

Anthony turned to Lumian and sought confirmation,

"Are you suggesting that the Fourth Epoch's Trier is plagued with illnesses, and we're unharmed because we're carrying the two figurines?"

Lumian spread his hands and said,

"I believe this explanation makes more sense."

…

Beyond the gray fog, at the edge of the Fourth Epoch's Trier ruins.

In the small brown suitcase, Gardner Martin's blood-stained face suddenly opened, revealing Gardner Martin clad in silver armor, reflected in its eyes.

It opened its mouth and expelled a blazing white fireball.

The distance between them was so close that Gardner Martin couldn't dodge at all. All he could do was lean back, attempting to avoid the target's initial attack.

Boom! Gardner Martin was sent flying by the massive explosion.

The spiderweb-like crack on the chest of the silver armor shattered, tearing through the skin and flesh below.

This strike was akin to hitting Gardner Martin's vital points. Had it not been for the Pride Armor, which absorbed most of the damage, he would have perished on the spot.

However, this meant that the Pride Armor lost its protection over the chest for a period.

Gardner Martin's bloodied head flew up, dragging along a bloody spine.

On the other side, Olson's headless corpse stood up once more.

Gardner Martin's head aimed for the empty neck stump and inserted the ghastly white spine.

Amidst a cracking sound, this "Gardner Martin," seemingly from hell, twisted his neck and smiled sinisterly at Gardner Martin, who had already changed positions and condensed a large number of crimson Fire Ravens that were nearly white.

"Olson is long dead. I've been controlling his head and body.

"In the future, I'll replace you."

…

In the wilderness, the ground trembled violently, and blazing cracks slithered into the distance like fiery serpents.

The figures of Magician and Justice appeared.

-x-X-x-

Dressed in a white shirt with a knot and a beige dress, Magician fixed her gaze upon the menacing hurricane that bridged the gap between sky and earth. Her eyes glittered, as if concealing the vast cosmos.

"Vermonda Sauron is indeed a Sequence 1 Conqueror. It's no wonder He could influence generations of the Sauron family after losing control and going underground. It's no wonder the Sauron family, once a royal lineage, swiftly declined," Magician mused, sighing.

Justice, inquisitive, asked, "I wonder how the former leader of the Secret Order, Zaratul, and Emperor Roselle played a role in Vermonda Sauron losing control and entering the Fourth Epoch Trier. The Sauron branch, wielding Grade 0 Sealed Artifacts, obstinately believes that they harmed Vermonda, causing the Conqueror to lose control. The former even left a prophecy to mislead generations of Sauron family members."

Magician chuckled and replied, "Based on the information Lumian gathered and my research into the seal, the issue deep within Red Swan Castle's underground maze doesn't seem like something Zaratul or Emperor Roselle could create. Only a Weather Warlock and a Conqueror can resonate abnormally with Fourth Epoch Trier day after day, creating dangerous changes in corresponding places. Zaratul and Emperor Roselle likely exploited the problems that Red Swan Castle and Vermonda Sauron already had."

While she spoke, the Tarot Club's Major Arcana card holder shifted her gaze away from the hurricane sweeping through the world and focused on Fourth Epoch Trier, veiled in a thin gray fog.

The starlight in her eyes remained, as if she sought something to pinpoint her next target. She didn't abruptly halt and engage in conversation at a crucial moment.

Justice nodded in agreement and remarked, "If it were me, I wouldn't venture further into Trier after becoming an Angel to minimize the abnormal influence the underground might have on me. Vermonda Sauron disregarded hidden dangers and stayed in Red Swan Castle for an extended period. He must have had a strong desire for something in Fourth Epoch Trier."

"Didn't the Sauron family construct the White Maple Palace outside Trier? Previously, Vermonda's royal family resided there and rarely returned to Trier." Magician brought up the fact that the Sauron family was aware of the issue before adding, "Zaratul likely played a significant role in Vermonda Sauron's situation. As you know, He is an Archangel of the Seer pathway. Without His 'assistance,' it wouldn't have been easy for Vermonda Sauron—even as a Conqueror—to create a leak in the seal. He entered Fourth Epoch Trier after losing control. Back then, the seal's effects weren't as potent as they were a few years ago. There was no need for modifications."

Justice pondered for a moment and said, "What I'm more curious about is who designed the Hostel ritual. Their use of mysticism similarities and loopholes resembles that of high-level Seer, Apprentice, or Marauder Beyonders. Or perhaps they have had long interactions with these high-level Beyonders and were adept at learning."

"Perhaps the corresponding pathway of the Deceased excels in this as well. Perhaps it's secretly influenced by that Celestial Worthy, or perhaps that entity wants to use the temporary opening of the seal to do something. As you know, the Iron and Blood Cross Order used to believe in Him. It's too easy for Him to mislead us," Magician mused, uncertain of the right answer.

Starlight flickered in her eyes; she found it challenging to observe and determine the situation in the thin gray fog.

As Magician scrutinized Fourth Epoch Trier, she informed Justice, "The level of the catacombs' seal corresponds to this location.

"At its heart lies the Samaritan Women's Spring, where Blood Emperor Alista Tudor met His end. The razed imperial palace and its surroundings harbor diverse dangers. The lingering divine power is unimpressive and consumable. Sigh, every time I bring up something of this sort, it feels like I should adopt a more vulgar vocabulary. Only then can I truly capture my sentiments about the Blood Emperor's lunacy.

"Hence, you won't unearth anything significant from here. Only upon approaching will you discern that Mr. Fool's gray fog has grown denser, thicker, and more palpable.

"The catacombs' fourth and third levels correspond to Fourth Epoch Trier, excluding that specific area. Corruption and divine power still linger abundantly. Navigating certain areas demands adherence to specific rules; otherwise, even Angels may meet Their demise.

"The two levels above the catacombs correlate with the wilderness beyond the gray fog. Humans can traverse them to a certain extent, but with Vermonda Sauron lingering, the danger rivals that of the Fourth Epoch Trier…"

Just as Magician concluded her words, a frenzied and terrifying roar echoed from the area where the weather had dramatically shifted.

The formless flames that illuminated the surroundings and shrouded the entire "sky" seemed to be influenced, coalescing into a massive vortex.

Within the vortex, shapeless and translucent flames descended from above, striking the wilderness like a colossal sword that pierced through heaven and earth.

Amidst this chaos, the ground quaked even more violently. Fiery crevices extended further towards Fourth Epoch Trier, concealed within the gray fog.

Magician remained unperturbed as she observed the splendid yet dilapidated city for a while.

Then, she said to Justice, "Let's enter."

Justice tersely acknowledged, offering no objections.

Both of them tacitly avoided mentioning Vermonda Sauron, an Archangel who had lost control—a Conqueror. They had no intention of joining the battle or seizing the Beyonder characteristic.

For them, the Tarot Club's primary goal in this matter was to prevent the evil gods' bestowed from approaching the innermost seal, ensuring they couldn't leak the danger within which would affect Trier aboveground and the entire world.

Furthermore, they sought the lost Minor Arcana card holders to guide them out.

As for the Conqueror Beyonder characteristic, symbolizing an Archangel and Sequence 1, as long as it didn't fall into the hands of heretics, obtaining it wasn't a particularly grave issue for anyone. Magician didn't mind observing and, if the opportunity arose, pilfering the gains. However, she wasn't a high-level Beyonder of the Marauder pathway capable of dividing herself and participating in every battlefield.

Despite achieving a similar effect by moving back and forth, she had to respect Mr. Fool's gray fog and the core seal of Fourth Epoch Trier. Corresponding restrictions were undoubtedly in place.

Starlight blossomed, and Magician and Justice vanished. The thin gray fog enshrouding Fourth Epoch Trier undulated.

…

As soon as Gardner Martin's head—nestled over Olson's headless corpse—finished speaking, a multitude of blazing white fireballs materialized around him, hurtling towards Gardner Martin, who had suffered a chest wound.

In the midst of the rumbling explosion, Gardner Martin's figure in the silver armor suddenly vanished.

After the shockwave subsided, he reappeared in a corner of the ruins.

Then, he witnessed the other "him" merge with the blazing white flaming spear, which burrowed into the thin gray fog and disappeared into the randomly scattered buildings of Fourth Epoch Trier.

Gardner Martin's pupils constricted, and he was about to give chase when a violent and furious roar echoed from afar.

His entire body froze. Blood vessels beneath the visor on his face appeared, dark red as if flowing with flames.

Instinctively, Gardner Martin turned and prepared to sprint towards the distant apocalypse-like hurricane.

The space between his eyebrows twitched, and a faint red dot appeared.

Gardner Martin finally regained control of himself. He took a deep breath and returned to normal.

He gazed in the direction the other "him" had fled and muttered in a self-deprecating tone, "Were those harsh words and all-out attacks meant to make it easier for him to escape? As expected of me. Do you realize that failing to assassinate me means staying here means I'll inevitably kill you?"

As Gardner Martin muttered to himself, he produced a canister made of dark glass, its liquid a green hue reminiscent of grass.

He unscrewed the cap and downed half the canister. The wound on his chest began to heal at a visible rate.

It was a healing agent concocted by a Madame of the Nightstalkers, obtained by Gardner Martin through Philip.

Philip, who had united numerous evil god cults, had no shortage of similar items, but under the Hurricane of Light, the fragile canisters shattered.

After stowing away the remaining half canister of the agent, Gardner Martin, clad in silver-white full-body armor, ventured into the thin gray fog and Fourth Epoch Trier.

…

In the cover of a narrow street, behind a collapsed building, Franca hissed in agreement with Lumian's conjecture.

"That's right. This is a true relic from a divine war, and it's even more dangerous. It's entirely possible that the entire city is riddled with ailments."

She suspected that the closer she got to the place where Blood Emperor Alista Tudor had met his end, the more peculiar and horrifying the ailments became. Some seemed to have sprouted from the decaying corpses of deities. Ignoring Low-Sequence Beyonders whose bodies didn't fundamentally differ from ordinary humans, even Saints and Angels would likely succumb to the "disease" and perish.

Franca paused for a moment before suggesting to Jenna, "Why don't you give the black figurine to Anthony for safekeeping? It might be dangerous for you to hold it, and he can use that item to create his own Mirror Substitution, effectively increasing his chances of survival."

Franca couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't a wise decision for a female Demoness like Jenna to possess a Primordial Demoness figurine, whether it was the genuine article or the mirrored version.

Without waiting for Jenna's response, Lumian spoke in a deep voice, "It's better if Jenna holds it. She has the lucky gold coin."

"That's true…" Just as Franca finished speaking, she suddenly heard a chime not far away.

It resembled the bell of a bicycle, yet it was clearer and rang out for a longer duration.

-x-X-x-

Franca wasn't surprised at all, even though she wondered why so many things were happening in this damn place.

This was Fourth Epoch Trier. Even if it wasn't a land of a fallen god, it wouldn't lack abnormalities!

Lumian and the others cautiously emerged from their concealment, peering from different vantage points toward the source of the chimes.

The location wasn't distant, yet the fog in that direction seemed unusually dense. The structures loomed faintly, as though just a fragment of history had materialized.

Within the fog's depths, a contraption reminiscent of a steam locomotive glided by without a fuss. It sported only two carriages, lacking a smokestack. Peculiar frames extended from the top, linking it to something suspended in midair.

Ding ding ding. The train ventured into a zone of even thicker fog, disappearing from view.

Although Franca and her companions couldn't discern the details clearly, an unexplained dread seized them, akin to standing on the precipice or treading on blades piercing their skin.

Before they could contemplate the ramifications of the fog's metamorphosis and the arrival of these peculiar objects, their surroundings plunged into a profound darkness. Dusk gave way, and night loomed.

A dense fog cloaked the area.

Lumian, sensing an unsettling disturbance, yearned to evade it, but the abnormal fog, tainted with a dark hue, obstructed any attempt to "teleport" to an unaffected area. Beyond the fog, the wilderness they came from eluded his senses.

The cold fog permeated their skin, prompting involuntary shivers from Franca and Jenna.

Almost simultaneously, the narrow street came alive with the flickering of candle flames and oil lamps. Laughter, cries, and voices erupted, transforming the once-silent surroundings.

Fourth Epoch Trier burst into vibrant life, resonating with clamor and the pulsations of existence.

Anthony, without conscious thought, surveyed the diverse houses and narrow streets, catching sight of an asymmetrical, pitch-black building. Candlesticks dangled from above, casting light upon the figure standing at the window.

The figure donned a black bonnet, with one side sunken and the other protruding. Dark clothes adorned him, with buttons haphazardly fastened, and a smooth wound diagonally sliced his body from shoulder to waist.

Evidently caused by a sharp broadsword.

In that moment, the man's diagonally cleaved body resembled a child's stacked building blocks, not properly assembled.

He nonchalantly nibbled at a meat pie, chewed morsels falling from the wound to the ground, yet he remained oblivious.

Additional figures emerged in other habitable houses.

Some appeared like melted candles that had solidified once more, their flesh viscous and indistinct. Others had pale-white skin, and greasy white feathers sprouted from their pores, oozing yellowish pus. Some had tiny holes in their bodies, with black insects flying in and out. There were those reduced to white skeletons, with only a mismatched human-skinned mask covering their faces. Some had degenerated into black shadows, as if burned…

On the narrow street, a yellow, blue, and red sphere, about half the height of an adult human, rolled forward. An inverted clown, dressed in exaggerated clothes, stood atop it.

The clown's ears were unlike those of a human, dog-like and slightly pointed. Dark gray hair covered his red-yellow-painted face.

These are the long-dead citizens of Fourth Epoch Trier? Lumian's eyelids twitched.

He, Franca, and the others also observed the bloodstained faces and cold expressions of these figures.

"Very similar, very similar to those Mirror People…" Franca muttered to herself before exclaiming in horror, "Could the gray fog's transformation have transported us to the Fourth Epoch Trier in the mirror? The citizens of Fourth Epoch Trier in reality are dead, but the ones in the mirror are still alive?"

Before she could finish, Lumian and Anthony's gazes turned toward her and Jenna.

"Could it be that it's the problem with those two things again?" Franca's scalp tingled as she said, "Did they cause us to be devoured by the mirror's Fourth Epoch Trier after the gray fog transformed?"

"That's not it. I believe it's a universal abnormality. Apart from a few special individuals who enter this place, they all arrive in the mirror ruins after being enveloped by the expanding gray fog." Lumian observed the narrow street brimming with vitality, pondering for a moment. "The most likely possibility is that the two figurines triggered Fourth Epoch Trier, causing changes like the gray fog's expansion."

Jenna fell silent for a moment before frowning.

"But we've been here for a while. Why did something only happen now? We didn't do anything just now…"

"That's right!" Franca suddenly realized. "Those Hostel residents must have triggered something while wandering around after their entry!"

As soon as Franca finished speaking, a hoarse and terrified shout echoed nearby.

"Help!

"Save me!"

Lumian and his companions turned their attention toward the voice and witnessed a man in a black formal suit, his hair neatly combed like a prominent figure's secretary, sprinting down the narrow street.

His face was marred by abscesses, oozing mucus. Occasionally, he turned his head 180 degrees, his eyes filled with fear as if a formless and terrifying entity pursued him.

"Save me!"

Amidst his cries, the man's body suddenly froze, and he involuntarily retreated. His retreat accelerated until he lifted off.

"Ah!"

Amidst intense screams, he plunged into the dense gray fog and the shadowy buildings.

In the next moment, the voice abruptly ceased, and silence enveloped that area.

Lumian and the others' hearts pounded with a strong sense of danger.

Despite the man in the black suit not being an ordinary person, suspected to be the bestowed of an evil god from the Order of All Extinction or the Sick Church, and having been corrupted by this place to a certain extent, allowing him to turn his head 180o, Lumian, Anthony, and their companions still felt the terror lurking in the depths of the gray fog.

It was as if they could already envision themselves being "dragged" into the gray fog and vanishing.

However, at that moment, they had no idea what to do or how to hide. Dense black gray fog surrounded the suspected mirror ruins, and unknown dangers loomed in the shadows, quietly approaching.

At that moment, Termiboros's majestic voice resonated in Lumian's ears:

"Keep running until you reach that pillar. Don't stop on the way. Don't turn back. Don't teleport. Don't pull your companions."

Isn't… isn't that the direction where the monster was "devoured"? If we take the initiative to approach, wouldn't we be sending ourselves as food to its doorstep? Lumian grappled with uncertainty, unsure if Termiboros had sensed real danger and planned to intervene or if He was exploiting the opportunity to advance His own agenda.

"You can choose not to believe it," Termiboros's deep voice added.

Despite his suspicions, Lumian's gaze remained fixed on the spot where the evil god bestowed's figure had been "devoured."

Deep within the gray fog, amidst looming, collapsed, and towering buildings, a hazy black pillar stretched into the sky.

Suddenly, Lumian recalled something.

At the entrance of the fourth level of the catacombs—Krismona Night Pillar.

As for Krismona, she was a high-ranking Demoness who had perished during the War of the Four Emperors in Fourth Epoch Trier!

She was even a child of God, a true child of the Primordial Demoness… This place is suspected to be the mirror's Fourth Epoch Trier… Lumian surveyed the surroundings and saw that the situation elsewhere was similar. He gritted his teeth and said, "Let's move forward! To the black pillar!"

The sense of danger intensified, pushing Lumian to make a decisive gamble.

Move forward? Franca, Jenna, and Anthony were brimming with questions about Lumian's choice.

Everyone had witnessed the chilling fate of the man in the formal suit!

Lumian stood tall and declared in a commanding voice, "Jenna, carry the spoils of war. Don't stop, don't turn around, and don't pull any of our companions!"

Upon finishing his sentence, he darted out of his hiding spot.

Given the specificity of Lumian's instructions, Franca cast a glance at him and chose to trust his judgment.

Jenna tightened her grip on the lucky gold coin, hoisted the cloak containing the spoils of war, and followed suit. Anthony, having exacted his revenge, harbored no regrets or obsessions. Lumian had proven his correctness multiple times, so he didn't question him and trailed closely.

Thud! Thud! Thud! The quartet sprinted down the narrow street, passing by the inverted clown, who rolled forward on the ball at a deliberate pace. They plunged into the depths of the gray fog, heading towards the black pillar.

…

In a corner of Fourth Epoch Trier, in front of a black iron-like house adorned with a red pattern, a wilderness overgrown with weeds had been condensed to the size of an ordinary square.

Within a dark-red open carriage in the wilderness, Lady Moon, draped in a loose white robe and a light-colored veil, queried Madame Pualis, who stood beside her, "What's wrong?"

Madame Pualis, dressed in black with her head covered by her right hand, replied, "I can hear my child crying again…"

Lady Moon nodded gently and offered reassurance, "That's unavoidable. Rest here and catch up when you've recovered."

"Are you sure you can handle it alone?" Madame Pualis's facial muscles twitched and distorted intermittently.

Lady Moon smiled and responded, "My child left me a gift. Don't worry."

She didn't consider Madame Night to be of much help in this matter. Madame Night could enter because she needed to stay at the Sacred Heart Cloister to draw attention and couldn't remain in the Hostel.

"Alright," Madame Pualis said regretfully.

After Lady Moon's carriage and the wilderness departed, Madame Night's expression quickly returned to normal.

Lady Moon's carriage, pulled by two Demon-like creatures, advanced for a while before the gray fog thickened and expanded.

Her eyes narrowed as a blood-stained umbilical cord materialized in her hand.

The umbilical cord emitted a brilliant golden sunlight, warding off all corrosion and influence.

Thus, Lady Moon successfully reached the periphery of the land of a fallen god. The gray fog here stood as dense as a wall.

Attempting to approach, she found herself blocked, akin to an ordinary person encountering an impenetrable barrier.

Lady Moon felt a compelling force but couldn't proceed any further.

She whispered in surprise and confusion, "How could this be…"

As she pondered to herself, Lady Moon surveyed her surroundings.

Suddenly, her gaze froze.

On the surface of a nearby half-collapsed palace-like structure, a flamboyant red color seized the wall, outlined in a bloody state: "Didn't anyone tell you that there's another seal here?"

-x-X-x-

The intensifying gray fog at the core that spread to every corner of Fourth Epoch Trier didn't faze Gardner Martin, wrapped in sleek silver-white full-body armor. Instead of alarm, delight surged within him. Since the invasion of the power from Building 13 on Avenue du Marché, and being able to hear the great voice, such scenes had frequented his dreams. It felt like returning home, the door wide open for him.

Without hesitation, Gardner Martin sprinted toward the heart of Fourth Epoch Trier, heading for the land of the fallen god.

…

Through a street so narrow that the residents in the houses on both sides could almost reach out and shake hands, Lumian and his companions sprinted forward.

After only a dozen steps, Lumian sensed an intangible force emanating from the pitch-black gray fog. It was like the countless arms of a terrifying entity, gently and methodically caressing every living being to determine its prey.

Lumian's scalp tingled. Even with his clothes providing cover, goosebumps erupted where the formless entity touched him.

Instinctively, he wanted to resist, but then he remembered Termiboros's words.

"Don't stop. Don't turn back. Don't teleport. Don't pull your companions!"

While this didn't explicitly mention resisting, defending, or attacking, Lumian felt it wise to observe and wait for developments.

Suppressing the urge to incinerate the formless entities, he compelled himself to move forward.

Jenna, by his side, and Franca and Anthony behind him, closely monitored Lumian. If he didn't act, neither did they. If he did, they would quickly follow suit.

Observing Lumian refraining from confronting the formless entity in the dim gray fog, they braced themselves, enduring the intense and danger-filled caresses.

In the midst of this, Franca found the formless object somewhat familiar.

Recalling the suspicion that this place was the mirror's Fourth Epoch Trier, closely linked to the Demoness pathway, she quickly had an answer.

It bore a striking resemblance to a Demoness of Pleasure's spider silk!

Could it be left behind by a high-level Demoness? Franca imagined a scene: a colossal pitch-black, half-human spider, nestled silently in the depths of the gray fog, extending spider silk that seemed to possess a life of its own, attempting to locate and capture its prey.

After covering more than ten steps in a sprint, Lumian was pleasantly surprised to notice the formless entity slowly retracting. It no longer actively caressed him, but given their dense presence, occasional brushes or touches were inevitable.

This change appeared to be a response to his proactive approach towards the source of the formless entities.

These formless entities seemed to single out those attempting to escape!

Upon breaking free from the narrow street and delving into the thick gray fog, Lumian suddenly felt his hair stand on end, a chilling sensation running down his spine.

His intuition warned of immense danger ahead, a threat capable of obliterating them all. The consequences of getting closer were beyond imagination.

Franca and the others involuntarily slowed down. The horror felt palpable, like a loaded revolver pressed against their foreheads, poised to fire at any moment.

Lumian clenched his teeth and pressed on.

Having chosen to trust Termiboros's advice, he needed to endure until there was evidence to the contrary. Otherwise, he might as well do something else from the beginning!

He didn't halt, and Jenna and the others didn't dare to either. They resembled fools aware of an impending cliff, understanding their insignificance, yet choosing to rush forward, like an idiot.

At that moment, Lumian caught sight from the corner of his eye of black flames erupting over Jenna's body. Pain etched her face, fear mirrored in her eyes.

Crack! Jenna shattered like a mirror, only to reappear, still engulfed in black flames and frost.

Her eyes pleaded with Lumian.

Instinctively, Lumian raised his left hand, as if to aid Jenna. However, a brief moment of hesitation swept over him, and he withdrew his hand, fixing his gaze ahead.

Don't pull companions!

Despair, surprise, and resentment filled Jenna's eyes instantly.

She coughed and came to a standstill.

Swiftly ensnared by the formless entities, she was dragged deeper into the gray fog.

Franca, witnessing this, had an immediate change in expression, ready to offer assistance when Lumian's instructions flashed through her mind.

She hesitated.

In that moment, Jenna's expression transformed into one of pure hatred, blood seeping from the pores on her face. A shrill scream escaped her lips, akin to a curse echoing towards everyone.

Seeing this, Lumian and the others experienced a strange sense of relief.

This Jenna seemed more like a Mirror Person!

Amidst the shrill scream, Jenna vanished into the depths of the gray fog, her voice abruptly silenced.

Almost simultaneously, Lumian caught Jenna in his peripheral vision, sprinting beside him with an anxious and nervous expression.

As expected! Lumian roughly comprehended why Termiboros had cautioned against pulling companions.

In this realm, a companion could seamlessly switch with their mirror counterpart at any moment. Assisting the "Mirror Person" risked harm to their true companion, leading to complete assimilation into this place, becoming "food" for the entity at the source of the formless objects.

Dammit! Couldn't you be more explicit? These reasons aren't particularly intricate. You insist on us experiencing them ourselves and overcoming them! Cursing Termiboros inwardly, Lumian pressed on with even more determination.

In the subsequent encounters, similar challenges arose multiple times. Yet, armed with experience, they refrained from resisting or attempting escape. They resisted the impulse to aid their companions.

Lumian and the others, focused on their path, ran straight using the black pillar as a guide. Occasionally, they bypassed obstacles.

Finally, the black pillar loomed not far ahead.

Simultaneously, Lumian, Anthony, and the rest were astonished to find that the imminent danger, on the verge of colliding with them, had mysteriously vanished.

No, it hadn't disappeared. It was now behind Lumian and the group—distant!

Running toward danger results in moving away from it? Just like the pale-black stone brick area in the wilderness, the direction here is twisted and chaotic? Amid Lumian's surprise, he didn't glance back, nor did he pause to celebrate. He persisted, sprinting toward the black pillar.

Had he not set a resolute example, Franca and Jenna might have turned around. Nonetheless, they pressed forward, a sense of relief mingling with lingering fear.

After covering dozens of meters, the quartet reached the square where the black pillar stood.

The ground was paved with pale-black stone bricks, and numerous grayish-white stone pillars lay in ruins, only a few remnants remaining.

Compared to the black pillars, these "surviving" grayish-white stone pillars were as inconspicuous as ants.

The colossal black pillar surpassed even the Krismona Night Pillar Lumian had witnessed on the third level of the catacombs. It stretched into the sky, seeming to burn with formless flames, its destination shrouded in mystery.

The scene brought to Lumian's mind the pale-black stone bricks in the wilderness outside and the numerous grayish-white stone pillars in the vicinity, but nothing akin to the black pillar.

Had the Night Pillar in the wilderness collapsed and been destroyed? Did that event lead to the old bones crawling out, causing the corruption in Building 13 on Avenue du Marché? Was it then mended by constructing the catacombs and relocating countless corpses? Lumian ventured a guess based on these thoughts.

Franca and Jenna surveyed the square ahead, observing that the area surrounding the black pillar had sunk into the ground. Below, there seemed to be white magma flowing, and faint black tentacles lurked.

Though there were no explicit warnings of danger, Lumian and the others sensed that this might be even more dangerous than the entity they had previously encountered.

Next to the black pillar stood a 1.78-meter-tall snowman. Its frosty face, cracked to form eyes, nose, and mouth, lacked ears.

As Lumian's gaze nonchalantly swept across the snowman, it abruptly froze.

He noticed a dark stain on the snowman's right eye, as if it wore a monocle.

Amon? Lumian startled, a desire to flee taking hold.

At that moment, Termiboros's majestic voice echoed in his ears.

"It's dead."

Dead… Lumian breathed a sigh of relief.

It made sense. Amon, a nobleman of the Fourth Epoch's Tudor Empire, wouldn't be exempt from the casualties of the divine war. It was plausible that dozens, even hundreds of avatars perished back then. Retrieving them might not have been feasible in the circumstances.

For some reason, Lumian detected a trace of joy in Termiboros's concise words.

Observing the snowman, Anthony suddenly felt his forehead heat up, and his breath turned hot. His Spirit Body rapidly weakened.

"I'm infected," he calmly informed his companions.

Ailment… Lumian glanced at the black pillar again.

Could this be the true form of the Krismona Night Pillar?

Even the figurine of the Primordial Demoness can't stem the corruption of ailments in this place?

Franca's heart skipped a beat as she instructed Jenna, "Take out that figurine."

Simultaneously, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the Primordial Demoness figurine crafted from bone.

After Jenna handed her the black one, Franca motioned for Anthony to come closer and observed his expression.

"How do you feel now?"

"It seems better. I'm… I'm getting better." Anthony scrutinized his physical condition earnestly.

Franca smiled.

"I knew it. How could Jenna and I be fine, but you're sick?

"Looks like we have to maintain a certain distance from the figurines."

As soon as she finished speaking, blazing white Fire Ravens soared out from behind the black pillar, hurtling toward them.

Then, a figure emerged. It was Gardner Martin, attired in a black formal suit and yellow vest, an unusual sight.

His gaze fixed on the black figurine in Jenna's hand and the bone statue in Franca's, revealing a longing expression.

-x-X-x-

As the blazing-white Fire Ravens erupted from behind the black pillar, Lumian's reflexes kicked in.

While Franca, engrossed in deciphering the cause of Anthony's ailment, Lumian seemingly engaged in the discussion. Yet, beneath the facade, he—a Hunter—maintained a vigilant stance, keenly aware of his surroundings.

In this dangerous and ominous setting, he couldn't afford to focus solely on conversation.

Lumian thrust his palms towards the oncoming blazing-white Fire Ravens. In a swift motion, a colossal crimson fireball materialized, hastily intercepting the impending assault.

However, before it could reach its target, the unstable structure caused it to detonate.

Amidst the explosive chaos, a shockwave, laced with flames, surged forward and sideways, engulfing nearly all the blazing-white Fire Ravens like a torrent.

Confronting the fiery wave head-on, the Fire Ravens staggered, losing stability in the storm. They prematurely blossomed, transforming into a dazzling display of fireworks.

The Fire Ravens circling from the side were also affected by the explosive waves, deviating from their intended trajectories or being partially extinguished.

Hunters, particularly those at higher Sequences like Pyromaniac and Conspirer, proved unparalleled in defending against the swarm attacks of Fire Ravens.

Thanks to this interference, Franca and Jenna, both Assassins, along with the Psychiatrist, Anthony Reid, effortlessly dodged the tracking-capable, blazing-white Fire Ravens. They observed as these dangerous projectiles landed on the ground, setting off fiery eruptions.

In the blink of an eye, Franca vanished, and Jenna swiftly moved toward the nearest grayish-white stone pillar. She scattered fluorescent powder and chanted the Invisibility incantation in Hermes.

Anthony, seemingly back in the fray, rolled and sprinted, encircling another relatively intact grayish-white stone pillar in an attempt to find cover.

Lumian maintained his position, hands poised to push forward. His golden-black hair swirled in the ordinary "gust of wind" that followed the massive fireball's explosion.

Looking at Gardner Martin, unusually tall and face marked with bloodstains, Lumian taunted, "Is this your way of greeting? Sending a swarm of Fire Ravens to welcome us? Hey, what's with the change in appearance and the missing armor? Are you the mirror's Gardner Martin?"

Gardner Martin, donned in a black formal suit and yellow vest, ceased his attack. Instead, he paused and sneered, "Sooner or later, I'll become the real Gardner Martin."

Observing the situation, Lumian didn't rush to "teleport" behind Gardner Martin. He chuckled and remarked, "So, you're admitting to being a counterfeit?"

His aim was to provoke and incite the other party, unraveling the motives of these Mirror People.

Surely, their purpose wasn't merely to replace genuine forms and return to the real world for a serene life.

It had to be one of the objectives, but not the sole or primary one. The actions of a Mirror Person were too intricate for such a straightforward motive.

Mirror Gardner Martin scanned Lumian's surroundings, as if seeking the invisible Franca and Jenna.

In response to Lumian's mockery, he sneered and stated, "Counterfeit? We, the counterfeits, might be the only ones to secure victory and survive.

"Look at the Fourth Epoch Trier, destroyed and reduced to ruins. Yet, it persists within the mirror. All its citizens remain alive."

You call that living? Lumian Lumian refrained from interrupting the Mirror Gardner's resentful narrative.

The formidable Beyonder with a peculiar form chuckled.

"Counterfeit? Countless members of the Iron and Blood Cross Order you usually encounter are already on our side. They've emerged from the mirror, spawned since the unexpected seal incident decades ago and the ensuing power leak. We've been covertly engaging in similar activities.

"Otherwise, how would Gardner Martin, Tony Twain, and Diest have known about Vermonda Sauron's underground entrance into the seal? How would they have recognized it as a Sequence 1 Conqueror Beyonder characteristic? How could they have been so focused on exploring the underground and inadvertently influenced?"

"…" Lumian was taken aback.

So, this involves the plans of your Mirror People?

Damn it, how many factions are entangled in this, and how many conspiracies are woven together?

While Gardner's words in the mirror shed light on the murky situation, making many details more plausible, Lumian still found it absurd.

Aren't there too many factions and conspiracies? And behind these conspiracies, even more conspiracies, as intricate as spiderwebs!

Mirror Gardner's expression returned to normal as he smiled and said,

"Ever wonder how the Iron and Blood Cross Order discovered the black figurine? How did they realize they could exploit the uniqueness of this mirror world to bypass the seal?

"Do you dare to keep carrying that figurine? It holds no practical value for you. Why not hand it over to me, and I'll let you leave this mirror world?

"Don't worry; you're not Gardner Martin. I can't replace you. I harbor no insurmountable malice towards you."

So, were the Fire Ravens from earlier merely a greeting? Lumian laughed and inquired, "Essentially, that figurine holds great value for you? What do you people intend to do with it?"

Lumian suspected that the Iron and Blood Cross Order's discovery or acquisition of the black Primordial Demoness figurine was orchestrated by these Mirror People. Their plan was undoubtedly intricate.

Mirror Gardner's lips curled as he replied, "Did you think I'd tell you?"

"Whom do you people serve?" Lumian interjected.

As the Mirror Gardner's mouth opened, his expression suddenly darkened, and his eyes brimmed with hatred.

"That's all the answers!"

Observing the Mirror Gardner's sudden shift, Lumian had a profound realization that these Mirror People could maintain normalcy most of the time and seamlessly replace the originals. However, when certain matters arose, they couldn't suppress their monstrous side.

Mirror Gardner seemed poised to convince Lumian and the others to surrender the black Primordial Demoness figurine when a figure materialized behind him.

Franca, lacking an Assassin suit, revealed a Hidden Blade from her left wrist. Enveloped in black flames, she thrust it into Mirror Gardner's back, causing the blood-stained figure to shatter like a mirror.

He reappeared on the other side of the black pillar, on the fringe of the collapsed area, wearing a sinister smile. He declared, "You're stalling for time and completing preparations. Me too!"

As he finished speaking, a man emerged from the debris of a crumbled grayish-white stone pillar outside the collapsed area, dripping with magma.

His face bore bloodstains too, and his short flaxen-colored hair, along with slightly thick brown eyebrows, framed aqua-blue eyes and thin lips. Despite his unremarkable appearance, he uncannily resembled Franca.

Witnessing this figure, a phrase flashed through Franca's mind: "It's over…"

It was her past self, her former identity as a man!

Ever since Franca began suspecting that this area represented the mirror's Fourth Epoch Trier, she harbored concerns that her past self would surface, exposing his true identity to Jenna. Now, her fears materialized.

It's over. Social death… Franca's mind raced as a woman emerged from behind another intact grayish-white stone pillar.

Adorned in a white shirt, a black vest, and dark pants, her pure black hair cascading over her shoulders, she exuded an imposing beauty. Despite her deep and delicate facial features, her blue eyes betrayed a sense of mockery.

Uh, t-this is eerily similar to Ciel… The mirror version of him is a woman? Franca swiftly scanned her surroundings, concealing herself again.

Behind different grayish-white stone pillars, two more figures emerged. One donned mercenary attire, with handsomely styled flaxen-colored hair, reminiscent of Jenna. The other wore military-green tops and bottoms, exuding a mature charm with a slightly plump figure. Beautiful with eyes as deep as an ancient forest pond.

Dammit! A male version of Jenna and a female version of Anthony! Anthony looks even more handsome and charming! This is different from the mirror world outside! Franca felt puzzled yet relieved.

This could provide a plausible explanation for "his" former appearance to resurface!

Lumian, equally perplexed by his mirror counterpart having a different gender, and the others weren't experiencing the same thing as Franca. Even if the mirror reflected their past selves, it shouldn't manifest like this.

If this was a fusion of a Demoness's mirror world, the stacking of feminization, and one's past, Jenna should be a woman, no matter what!

As Lumian's thoughts raced, he considered the Hunter pathway's ability to transform women into men, which was adjacent to the Demoness pathway.

Could it be that this mirror world is influenced by the Blood Emperor's corpse or residual divine power? Is it akin to Mr. Fool and the Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings—a power controlling these two pathways leaked, forming a unique mirror world that causes an overall reversal? Lumian didn't delve too deeply into it, as Mirror Gardner and his four helpers attacked.

The "Mirror Person" in a black formal suit and yellow vest didn't conceal his hatred, excitement, and desire.

…

In the wilderness, the entire ground seemed to sink two to three meters.

Diest's massive iron soldiers and yellowish-skinned giant entourage stood at the edge of the hurricane. Occasionally, one of them would self-destruct, reducing to fragments.

Despite the wary standoff between the president of the Iron and Blood Cross Order and Snarner Einhorn, They directed Their attention to the mildly intelligent monster that appeared to have lost control and was more challenging to deal with.

In the intense battle, They managed to restrain or knock Vermonda Sauron to the ground two or three times, but They themselves were also affected, in a dire state that hindered Them from seizing the opportunity.

In the current moment, They found themselves temporarily disabled.

Suddenly, a surge of knowledge materialized into a beautiful woman wearing a brown captain's coat, with long chestnut hair and eyes resembling the blue sea.

Snarner, Diest, and the others' hearts tightened, fearing that the newcomer would take the initiative and ultimately claim the Conqueror Beyonder characteristic.

They all recognized the woman:

The eldest daughter of the deceased Emperor Roselle, Bernadette Gustav!

She, too, was an Angel!

Holding a pale-golden lamp, Bernadette observed the Angels' battle without direct involvement. Transforming into a torrent of knowledge once again, she surged towards the gray fog-shrouded Fourth Epoch Trier.

It was as if She had casually glanced at them while passing by.

"…" Snarner and Diest were initially taken aback by Her actions, but They swiftly regained Their composure and resumed their battle.