70 COI

In any country on the Northern Continent, wild Beyonders were unwelcome. They faced control and even apprehension. This wasn't like colonies such as Port Farim, where renowned adventurers could freely roam the streets and boast about their experiences without the concern of official Beyonders knocking on their doors.

"Boss, is there any danger?" Lugano nervously inquired, his perpetual fear evident as a wild Beyonder.

Lumian chuckled, responding confidently, "That depends on their attitude."

The implication was that the nuns were the ones facing danger.

Lumian teased, "Aren't you excited about the combat nuns? Shouldn't you be thrilled that they're here?"

Imagination isn't the same as reality… Seeing his boss showing no intention of "teleporting" away with him, Lugano nervously descended and extended an invitation to the combat nuns.

The leader was the same one Lumian had encountered before.

Most of her naturally curly, thick black hair was neatly tucked into a black hat with white patterns. Her bright and lively light-blue eyes, along with her thick eyebrows, bestowed upon her a unique and captivating charm.

The woman in leather armor gazed at Lumian and inquired gently, "Are you the adventurer Louis Berry?"

Lumian nodded. "Who might you be?"

The strikingly beautiful combat nun replied with a smile, "I'm Sister Noelia of the Fertility Order, in charge of a combat team.

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

Noelia raised her hands to the sky, her feet slightly apart.

Observing that Noelia and the other combat nuns of the Fertility Order were not as judgmental as he expected, not viewing wild Beyonders as inherently evil creatures, Lumian smiled.

"Madame, what brings you here?"

Noelia smiled and explained, "You're a great adventurer who hunted Demon Warlock. If we hadn't known you were in Port Santa, we might not have bothered. However, now that we are aware, we must come and speak with you, reminding you to abide by the corresponding order."

"What order?" Lumian inquired, anticipating the answer while holding the golden straw hat.

The demeanor of these combat nuns made him wonder if they were official Beyonders. They didn't directly arrest him, nor did they use stern warnings.

Is this the distinction between the Church of Earth Mother and other Churches? Emphasizing motherhood and respecting life?

"However, this is Port Santa, and many sea merchants here have a genuine need to resist pirates and protect their goods. We lack the manpower to safeguard them all, so we've tacitly agreed to allow them to hire Beyonder bodyguards.

"Firstly, you cannot venture inland without our permission. To reach other cities, you need our approval. Secondly, you cannot perform any rituals in Port Santa, consume potions for advancement, or engage in mysticism experiments. Thirdly, you must refrain from using your abilities to cause chaos or catastrophe.

"Of course, if you return to Port Santa in the future, you'll need to register with us first."

It's a reasonable request, and coming from the ruling Church, it's not excessive at all… It's even simpler and easier than obtaining a firearm permit in Port Farim or other places. Of course, not applying for identification in Port Farim isn't a big deal. No one will report it, and there won't be any issues if you don't directly encounter the officials… Lumian nodded gently and replied,

"Sure thing."

At this moment, Lumian's thoughts raced, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"But Port Santa isn't entirely safe. I encountered a monster last night…"

He briefly recounted how the little monster had disguised itself as a devil to intimidate him. While he didn't conceal that he had accepted Giorgia's commission, he refrained from specifying the details.

Noelia listened attentively and responded without surprise, "We'll handle it. Try not to get involved in the Fisheries Guild's matters in the future. Their internal issues will be resolved internally."

Does this mean that the Earth Mother Church refrains from interfering with the internal strife of the Fisheries Guild, allowing them complete autonomy? Lumian smiled and said,

"I'll do my best to avoid participation, but I'll reserve the right to defend myself and counterattack."

Noelia didn't offer any further comments. Her smile faded as she led the combat nuns to the door.

In just two or three steps, she smoothly drew a straight sword from her back, half-turned, and slashed at Lumian.

The series of movements flowed seamlessly, occurring in the blink of an eye.

Lumian stared at the sword beam, neither dodging nor raising his hand to block.

With a swoosh, the straight sword grazed the tip of his nose and pointed to the ground.

Noelia smiled radiantly and nodded in satisfaction.

"As expected of a great adventurer. Your foresight, judgment, and courage are exceptional."

She then turned around and addressed the combat nuns who followed her.

"This is a true man. Those who only know how to flaunt their muscles and swing their swords can only be called male beasts."

As they spoke, the combat nuns exited Lumian's rented suite.

Lumian raised his right hand and stroked his chin, feeling a strange sensation.

The sight of women openly scrutinizing men made him uncomfortable.

After watching Noelia and the nuns leave, Lugano lowered his voice and asked, "Boss, did a little monster really come to warn you last night?"

Lugano was taken aback for a moment before understanding Lumian's intentions. He grabbed Ludwig and followed closely behind.

…

21 Saint Lana Street, in the activity room of a suite on the fifth floor.

Lumian encountered Giorgia once again.

Dressed in a vibrant dress adorned with intricate patterns, the lady glanced at the boy, whose appetite exceeded her imagination, before turning her gaze to the adventurer, Louis Berry.

"What brings you here?"

Lugano translated professionally.

"Last night, a monster came to intimidate me, but I chased it away." Lumian briefly recounted the monster's appearance and behavior.

Upon hearing Lugano's account, Giorgia displayed no obvious surprise. After a few seconds of contemplation, she said, "Wait a moment."

Leaving the maid and valet behind, she disappeared into an inner room.

After a few minutes, she reappeared, arm in arm with a man.

The man seemed to be in his forties, tall and gaunt, his eyes a nearly translucent blue. His grayish-black, slightly curly hair cascaded over his shoulders like an artist's. His appearance couldn't be described as particularly good or bad, yet he possessed an unforgettable quality.

"This is my husband, Rubió Paco," Giorgia introduced.

The shareholder of the Fisheries Company and a committee member of the Fisheries Guild? Lumian had gathered information about the Paco family through Lugano over the past two days.

Rubió's father had initially been a prosperous fisherman who shared a boat with others. After marrying Martha, who had once been a Maiden of the Sea, he gradually established himself. Not only did he manage the Fisheries Company for a time, but he also ascended to become a committee member of the oldest local guild, the Fisheries Guild.

Shortly after the sea prayer ritual last year, the old gentleman passed away. With strong support from Matriarch Marta, Rubió inherited his father's status and became the youngest committee member of the Fisheries Guild.

However, he no longer held a specific position at Port Santa Fisheries Company. He only held onto the shareholders' voting rights and dividends.

This middle-aged man had once been rebellious. He was expected to comply with his parents' arrangements and marry a Maiden of the Sea. However, he remained single until his early thirties and then married Giorgia, the daughter of a textile merchant. If it were any other prominent family, the matriarch would have surely intervened and perhaps even banished Rubió. Yet, Martha indulged him and eventually chose to compromise.

Before Lugano could commence with the translation, Rubió spoke in less fluent Intisian, "We can communicate directly. When I was young, I often took a boat out to sea and visited places like Port Farim."

"Monsieur Rubió, I don't think there's a need for communication, and I don't intend to find out why the monster came looking for me. I'm just here to inform you about this." Lumian glanced at the puzzled Giorgia and suspected that Rubió had switched to Intisian not out of politeness but to keep his wife in the dark about something.

Rubió nodded gently and said, "I understand your concerns. I merely wish to entrust you with another mission."

"What mission?" Lumian asked with a smile.

Rubió calmly replied, "My mother, Martha, hails from Milo Village. Recently, she wishes to return and meet the current Governor of the Sea to request his permission to seek treatment at the Church of Earth Mother. Yes, my mother hasn't been in good health recently. She can't get out of bed."

Martha is still alive? Lumian was slightly surprised.

Experienced as he was, he deduced that the monster might have been transformed by Martha, based on the absence of the matriarch, the Paco family's reluctance to expose the humanoid lizard, and the fact that she was once a Maiden of the Sea!

The sea prayer ritual wasn't just an honor for the Maidens of the Sea. Perhaps there was also hidden corruption that might erupt at some point in time.

But now, from what Rubió had said, Martha was still alive. Previously, she had only been seriously ill.

Where did that humanoid lizard come from? Lumian suppressed his puzzlement and asked in confusion, "Why does Madame Martha need the Governor of the Sea's permission to seek treatment?"

Rubió's expression shifted, a mix of disgust and resistance evident in his words.

"All Maidens of the Sea have to follow the orders of the Governor of the Sea when dealing with Church-related matters. Failing to do so would be blasphemous to the sea prayer ritual."

-x-X-x-

"What might that be?" Rubió asked cautiously.

A cunning smile formed on Lumian's lips.

"I'm here to witness the sea prayer ritual, but I've heard only a select few can observe its core segments. I seek such an opportunity."

Rubió remained silent for a prolonged moment.

Giorgia, unable to contain her curiosity, questioned her husband in Highlander about the conversation and his concerns.

Lugano seized the chance to approach Lumian and translated the couple's exchange.

Lumian's eyebrows twitched imperceptibly upon hearing they were genuinely considering allowing him to pose as a sailor and board the special sacrificial ship.

Is Rubió Paco truly considering my request?

I'm merely offering an outrageous deal to test if I can glean details about the sea prayer ritual. I don't intend to leverage this seemingly straightforward task to gain access to the last two segments of the ritual!

It remained a secret harbored by the Fisheries Guild for over a millennium, the wellspring of their power and prestige!

As these thoughts raced through Lumian's mind, he strongly suspected that the commission to send Madame Martha to Milo Village to meet the current Governor of the Sea carried a high risk. It wasn't a task for any random Beyonder. Therefore, Rubió Paco was reluctant to let go of Louis Berry, the proven adventurer.

But where could the danger lie? This is Port Santa, not the islands on the sea or the remote towns of the Southern Continent. Which Beyonder would dare to attack me on the streets in broad daylight? Aren't they afraid of being captured by the combat nuns and turned into fertilizer for the land? One can't underestimate the power of an orthodox Church!

Unless someone possesses a special ability, like Loki's, to kill me undetected on the bustling streets, or if a Saint with godhood personally takes action, aiming to end the battle before the Church of Earth Mother reacts… But it can't be that exaggerated. It's such a trivial matter… As Lumian pondered, Rubió and Giorgia reached a conclusion.

The former said to Lumian, "I cannot permit your participation in the last two segments of the sea prayer ritual. It is a blasphemy against the sea. Those involved will face expulsion from Port Santa, including their family.

"However, I am willing to allow you to conceal yourself in Milo Village in advance and witness the ancient performances during the vigil ritual."

So, I can't directly witness the vigil ritual, but I can partake in the accompanying folklore performance? Did Ultraman, Bard, and Mad Lady use a similar method to approach the core of the sea prayer ritual and complete the most crucial part of the prank? Lumian noticed that Rubió had already made a significant concession and no longer insisted. He smiled and replied, "Deal."

Without waiting for a response, he "kindly" suggested, "Let's send Madame Martha to Milo Village today, shall we? We mustn't delay when it comes to illnesses. Get her treatment as soon as possible."

Rubió hesitated for a moment before saying, "My mother is already asleep. She's been resting a lot lately. Forcing her awake will impact her body and mind. How about tomorrow morning?"

Is some advanced preparation needed? Lumian nodded thoughtfully.

He cast a quick glance at Lugano, and his heart skipped a beat.

Lumian emphasized the word "doctor."

Without hesitation, Rubió Paco shook his head and said, "We trust the Church's doctors more. My mother is my most important family. I don't want her to take any unnecessary risks."

What he implied was that he couldn't vouch for the medical skills of the interpreter. He couldn't use the Paco family's matriarch as an experiment.

Lumian was actually looking forward to sending Madame Martha to Milo Village because it meant he might meet the current Governor of the Sea and have a chance to learn something. He had only suggested that Lugano treat the matriarch to test Rubió.

The result of the probe revealed many hidden secrets in this matter!

Having agreed to escort Madame Martha and her maid to the Governor of the Sea at 9 a.m. the following day, Lumian led Ludwig and Lugano out of the main house at 21 Saint Lana Street. Giorgia walked them all the way to the door.

Lumian nonchalantly remarked, "Does the Governor of the Sea have to reside in Milo Village?"

With Lugano's translation, Giorgia nodded slightly and said, "The Governor of the Sea resides in the building where the vigil ritual is held every night. He can move freely during the day, but he can't leave Port Santa."

The building where the vigil ritual is held? The essence of the vigil ritual is to allow a quasi-Governor of the Sea to enter the residence and replace the former Governor of the Sea, waiting to be officially appointed by the sea the next day? Lumian speculated, combining his mysticism knowledge.

He smiled and asked, "What are the perks of being Governor of the Sea?"

After hearing the translation, Giorgia fell silent for a few seconds before saying, "Among the fishmongers, the merchants, he's already the true governor in their eyes."

It wasn't an answer, just a whisper of truth.

Lumian nodded without pressing further. He led Ludwig and Lugano through the iron gates.

After taking a few steps along the verdant path in the forest, he suddenly looked up.

On a branch stood a gray-feathered myna.

Lumian gave it a cursory glance and continued on, his steps brisk towards the waiting carriage.

After a while, the myna flapped its wings and flew up. After circling a few times, it circled a house two streets away before dipping down towards an open window.

It landed on a middle-aged man's forearm and spoke in precise Highlander, "Louis Berry is back at the Paco house! He stayed nearly half an hour!"

The middle-aged man, dressed in gray clothes with disheveled brown hair, resembling a suburban farmer, fed the myna a few self-made rice grains and said, "Observe further and see if Rubió Paco and Giorgia will go out today."

After the myna flew out of the window, the middle-aged man exhaled and turned around.

Suddenly, his eyes froze as he saw someone sitting in the only armchair!

The man had black hair and green eyes, wearing a white shirt, a black vest, dark pants, and a golden straw hat.

Louis Berry!

The middle-aged man's back arched slightly, and his feet parted slightly, but he took no further action.

Lumian leaned back in his chair and engaged in casual conversation in Intisian, as if he had been expected.

"What did you have your bird spy on?"

The middle-aged man fell silent for a moment before speaking in somewhat awkward Intisian, "Watch if anyone enters or exits Paco's house, and see if there's anything unusual there."

"Very honest." Lumian nodded approvingly. "Who asked you to do it?"

He was pleased that the other party knew some Intisian. Otherwise, he could only rely on key words to communicate or capture him to have Lugano translate.

"Juan Oro," the middle-aged man replied without hesitation.

Juan Oro… The president of the Fisheries Guild and the former village chief of Milo Village? Lumian smiled and said, "I'm surprised you're so forthright."

The middle-aged man forced a smile and said, "I don't think I'm stronger than Demon Warlock and can defeat you."

"That's right. Those who understand the situation and themselves can live longer." Lumian crossed his right foot over his left leg. "Why is Juan Oro monitoring the Paco family?"

"I don't know, and there's no need for me to know. I'll receive a reward as long as I pass on what I see," the middle-aged man replied sincerely.

Lumian gazed at him for a few seconds before saying, "Did you send that little monster last night?"

The middle-aged man was taken aback.

"What little monster? What happened last night?"

Lumian chuckled and stood up without explaining.

"What's your name?" he asked as he walked towards the door.

The middle-aged man hesitated for a moment before answering truthfully, "Sanches."

Lumian opened the door, walked out, and disappeared from Sanches's sight.

…

Upon his return to Solow Motel, Lumian noticed a folded letter resting on the master bedroom's desk.

Skillfully unfurling it, he found the distinct handwriting of Madam Magician.

"You can share those matters with the Two of Cups, but avoid delving into excessive detail.

"I refrained from elaborating on the voices you heard and the fragments of civilization you glimpsed earlier as they remain too advanced for your understanding. Simply remember not to heed random sounds or sights in an ancient ruin like Fourth Epoch Trier. Also, caution your Warlock associates—

it's acceptable to occasionally take in the Hidden Sage's indoctrination, but they mustn't fully believe in Him. His state is precarious."

After incinerating the letter, Lumian contemplated for a moment and decided to "teleport" back to Trier to inform Franca in person and avert any potential mishaps.

…

Trier, nestled within the Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative, Apartment 702 at 9 Rue Orosai.

As Lumian materialized, Franca and Jenna were engrossed in perusing a stack of ancient information from an unknown source.

"Hey, could you 'teleport' outside and knock? It's quite startling when you suddenly appear like that!" Franca nearly tensed the formless spider silk she'd permanently set up in the room.

Lumian chuckled and remarked, "With a Witch's spiritual perception, what's the difference between me 'teleporting' outside the door and appearing in the living room?"

"Why the sudden return?" Franca paused before asking, "Madame Magician said you could share about that matter?"

"What's going on?" Jenna queried, looking puzzled.

She stood up and prepared to leave.

"Yes," Lumian replied to Franca's question, but he made no attempt to stop Jenna from leaving.

Nor did Franca intervene.

Once Jenna had retreated to her bedroom, Lumian turned to Franca and disclosed, "When they discussed the wilderness dream, it made me recall the voices and visions I encountered in Fourth Epoch Trier. They're connected to the Celestial Master!"

-x-X-x-

Confusion enveloped her.

"In the Fourth Epoch Trier, what did you see or hear that we didn't?"

Everyone had been together unless it was before they met, but Jenna should have been aware!

Without pausing for Lumian's response, Franca contemplated for a moment and suggested, "Could it be the aftereffects of using the Eye of Truth?"

She recalled Lumian's abnormal behavior during that time.

"Yes, that's right." Lumian nodded, pulled up a chair, and settled down. He described the collision of two rocks, sparks flying, and the ensuing blaze that engulfed dry leaves and withered branches, amid echoing voices chanting "Celestial Master."

The more Franca listened, the more her focus intensified. Uncharacteristically, she refrained from interrupting.

As she listened, her gaze gradually shifted, seemingly lost in reminiscence and distant thought.

Once Lumian finished recounting, Franca remained motionless for what felt like an eternity, frozen like a mechanical doll paused mid-action.

After several seconds, she abruptly straightened up, pinched her nose, and forced a smile.

"As anticipated, the Celestial Master is part of our world.

"The fragments of civilization you received bear a striking resemblance to some aspects of my country's history, yet there are differences… Could it be the true history concealed beneath the surface?

"The Celestial Master is attempting to interfere and breach into this world, wielding significant influence over the Mystery Pryer and Savant pathways, much like the way the Celestial Worthy affects Seers, Apprentices, and Marauders?

"Could the depravity among some of the monks in the Deep Valley Cloister and the peculiar state of the Hidden Sage be linked to the Celestial Master?"

Franca's thoughts crystallized as she spoke, her eyes sparkling like a serene lake.

"That's my hunch too," Lumian concurred with Franca.

Franca rose and paced, seemingly alone, contemplating how to follow this trail and unveil the truth behind the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society's transmigration.

After a few minutes, she muttered to herself, "The connection between the two worlds is stronger than I expected. It's not just through the River Styx…

"We should still be able to find many traces of the interaction between the two worlds…"

"When we grow stronger and amass enough gold, I want you to summon Chen Tu again, the Armored Shadow. He should possess some insight into the Celestial Master."

Franca lapsed into silence once more, her mind retracing an unknown memory.

A few moments later, she produced four brass metal plates and handed them to Lumian.

"The Language Comprehension charms you wanted. The one with the most intricate patterns allows you to understand the languages of the Southern Continent. The others are for the ancient Feysac language family. The activation incantation is the word 'knowledge' in ancient Hermes."

She and the Bear had completed the delivery through Madame Hela's messenger. The other party proved quite efficient.

After Lumian handed Franca the money, he "teleported" out of Trier and back to Port Santa.

In the hushed aftermath, Jenna cautiously opened the bedroom door and stuck her head out.

"Has Lumian left?"

"Yes," Franca replied, her emotions subdued.

Jenna glanced at her but didn't press for more information. Instead, she redirected the conversation to the stack of information related to the underground tomb.

Late at night.

Franca returned to her room.

Glancing at the small analyzer, the accompanying typewriter, and the radio transceiver, she didn't sit down to chat as usual. Instead, she climbed into bed.

Sitting in the middle of the bed, leaning against the pillow, hugging her legs and curling up, Franca's gaze unfocused on the crimson moon and stars outside the window.

Lumian's words today plunged her into nostalgia, but the more her emotions fluctuated, the less she wanted to reveal vulnerability. She endured it, pretending to have recovered.

Only when solitude enveloped her, as the night fell silent and the seemingly eternal stars adorned the sky, did she shed her thick "armor" and sink deep into her emotions.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Franca lowered her head, burying her face between her knees.

That night, she delved into a multitude of dreams. Broad shoulders carried her as a child, a touch of white hair at the temples, dishes not particularly delicious but always suited her tastes. Pure emotions of her youth, memories of being the "atmosphere livening machine," and her "broadminded" self all danced in fragmented sequences…

As her two decades unfolded in her dreams, she unknowingly opened her eyes, feeling the coldness on her face. Reluctant to move, she lingered in the moment.

Suddenly, a recollection struck her.

Back on the fourth level of the catacombs, she and Jenna had encountered a man who seemed strangely familiar.

Initially, she believed that the original owner of her body had encountered him. Now, the reason for his familiarity became clear.

The man bore an uncanny resemblance to someone from her home country before transmigration!

Despite altering his appearance to thwart immediate recognition, Franca was now certain that his facial features differed from those she had encountered in this world. Softer, less chiseled!

…

After breakfast, Lumian stepped into the master bedroom's washroom and retrieved a low-level Language Comprehension charm from his Traveler's Bag.

"Knowledge," he whispered in ancient Hermes.

The brass-like charm ignited with bluish-green flames and swiftly vanished.

Instantly, Lumian felt an abnormal clarity in his mind, as if an avalanche of additional knowledge had flooded in, unveiling the structural origins and connections of numerous words.

Today's agenda: a visit to the oldest fishing village, perhaps meeting the Governor of the Sea. Mastering Highlander in secret seemed imperative to avoid missing crucial clues!

The charm's effects would last for seven days.

Leaving the bedroom, Lumian took Ludwig and Lugano to 21 Saint Lana Street in a rental carriage, where they met Martha, the matriarch of the Paco family.

Martha didn't look like she was in her sixties, with only faint wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, appearing more in her early fifties based on her eyes, nose, mouth, and brows. Her features retained a unique charm.

At that moment, the old lady with grayish-black hair and light-blue eyes wore a black, widow-like dress and a dark, old-styled bonnet. Pale-faced, she was supported by two young maids as they boarded a four-wheeled, four-

seater carriage.

"Monsieur Berry, I'll be relying on you," Rubió Paco nodded at Lumian beside the carriage.

He was to accompany his mother to Milo Village to meet the Governor of the Sea.

Lumian directed Ludwig to Giorgia.

"Please keep an eye on him until I return from Milo Village."

Rubió translated this time.

Giorgia smiled and replied, "Don't worry, I'll make sure there's plenty of food."

She had already realized that this boy had the appetite of two or three adults, but as the godson of a great adventurer, it was understandable that he was special.

Lumian wasn't concerned about Ludwig's treatment in the Paco household. He feigned his understanding of Highlander and waited for Lugano's translation before saying, "A meal every two hours."

With that, he sat on the right side of the carriage driver and didn't enter the carriage. Seeing this, Lugano had no choice but to choose the seat to the left of the carriage driver.

Before doing so, he diligently translated Lumian's final instructions.

Although he didn't know what would happen if Ludwig starved, he felt that it wouldn't be good, so he emphasized it twice.

As the carriage set off, Giorgia processed the translation.

"A meal every two hours? Two hours?"

The Paco family's carriage rolled along the grayish-white stone-paved street. Lumian leaned against the carriage wall, retracted his right leg, and stepped on the edge of the carriage driver's seat.

Lugano glanced at him, feeling a bit uneasy.

A seasoned bounty hunter, Lugano sensed something awry in this seemingly ordinary mission that prompted Rubió to assist his employer in hiding in Milo Village.

His heart raced as he observed armed pedestrians on the street, fearing an imminent attack from the crowd.

Under the October sun still blazing in Port Santa, the streets, damp from the previous night's heavy rain, hadn't completely dried. Lugano yearned to reach Milo Village quickly.

Glancing at Lumian, he noticed that Lumian had narrowed his eyes. Lowering his straw hat, Lumian seemed to be peacefully napping, showing no signs of nervousness.

Phew… With a powerhouse like him around, there shouldn't be a problem… Lugano silently reassured himself.

The carriage headed north, leaving Port Santa and reaching a village nestled against the Dariège mountain range, overlooking the azure sea.

Fishing boats set off, accompanied by the resonant singing and chirping of seabirds.

Milo Village's buildings exuded a historic feel. Brown, yellow, and beige stone-brick outer walls, blackened at the lower half, gave them character. Though the wooden components had been replaced, weeds still clung.

A small cathedral belonging to Earth Mother stood near the mountain, and facing the fishing village dock was the Governor of the Sea's residence.

The four-story building, with a white backing and gray bricks, resembled a cathedral and a sacrificial ground more than a human residence.

As they arrived safely at their destination, Lugano sighed in relief and jumped off the carriage. Two maids supported Madame Martha as they headed toward the Governor of the Sea's building, accompanied by Rubió Paco.

Suddenly, Lugano heard his employer's voice.

"Take a look at what's wrong with that old lady."

Uh… Lugano glanced at Lumian, who had appeared beside him, wearing a golden straw hat. He raised his hand and gently tapped his forehead, activating his Spirit Vision.

Observing Madame Martha's back for a few seconds after she entered the Governor of the Sea's residence, he frowned and said, "Most notably is the excessive loss of blood and weak vitality…"

Lugano hesitated before concluding, "It doesn't look like illness. It looks more like an injury."

-x-X-x-

Injured? Injured by the humanoid lizard? Lumian made a casual guess after hearing Lugano's judgment.

He stood by the carriage, his gaze naturally surveying the surroundings of the Governor of the Sea's residence.

The location was close to the fishing village's docks, with boats sailing into the sea and fishing nets secured to the reefs. Around nearby houses, women were busy processing seafood, turning them into salted fish and jerky. Children ran along various village roads, playing games.

Though different from Cordu, the essence of the scene remained similar.

In front of the Governor of the Sea's residence stretched a sizable square where Lumian and the others awaited Madame Martha, Rubió Paco, and their emergence.

Children gathered in a corner, arranging numerous shells and engaging in an acting game.

The eldest, dressed in a linen shirt, declared, "I'm the Governor of the Sea!"

"I'll be the guard!"

"I'm the mother," the other children replied.

The youngest hopped around, asking, "What about me? What about me?"

The child playing the role of the Governor of the Sea pondered for a moment and said, "You can be the Child of the Sea."

Child of the Sea? What's that? Lumian, though not looking, listened intently to the children's discussion.

These kids may not understand many terms, but their lack of confidentiality made them unwitting carriers of information. The adults in Milo Village wouldn't be overly vigilant against such young children, who might inadvertently reveal details remembered in their daily games.

Recalling his experiences in Cordu, Lumian recognized the value of sounding out children and playing games with them. It was a subtle way to glean insights into family matters.

After absorbing the children's discussions and gauging the time, Lumian adjusted his golden straw hat and headed straight for the Governor of the Sea's residence.

Lugano was taken aback and swiftly followed Lumian.

Two "guards" in brownish-green shirts and pants, each armed with a rifle, blocked the entrance of the cathedral and sacrificial ground, fixing their gaze on Lumian.

"Halt!" the "guards" shouted.

Undeterred, Lumian continued forward, speaking in Intisian nonchalantly, "I don't understand what you're saying."

With a swoosh, the two "guards" raised their rifles, aiming at the outsider in the golden straw hat.

Lugano hurriedly translated, "They won't let you in."

Ignoring his guide, Lumian neither sped up nor slowed down as he approached the white building with gray bricks.

A cold glint flickered in the blue eyes of the two "guards" as they squeezed their triggers.

At that moment, the outsider in the golden straw hat vanished from their sight.

He melded into the sunlit shadows of the governor's residence.

In the next instant, Lumian reappeared from a shadow in the foyer behind them and continued walking.

It was as if the distance between them had been erased.

The two "guards," with keen senses, quickly turned around, peering behind them. However, Lumian had already entered the building, leaving the foyer.

Outside, Lugano stood in a daze, uncertain whether to take the risk of following and acting as a translator or to prioritize his own safety.

After passing through the foyer, Lumian suddenly noticed the space ahead darkening. The dome, just over ten meters tall, emanated an inaccessible aura. Aqua-blue walls adorned with various reliefs caught his eye. Unlike the typical statues of Angels and Saints, these depicted objects from the sea—

starfish, corals, numerous fish, lobsters, and crabs.

Simultaneously, Lumian sensed the reliefs coming to life, casting a dangerous gaze at him.

No, they weren't alive. The building itself seemed alive, instinctively rejecting intruders and exerting layers of pressure.

Lumian's steps instantly became heavy, as if burdened by hundreds of kilograms of food.

Within his field of vision, Martha, the Paco family's matriarch, knelt diagonally on the ground with her legs crossed. Rubió Paco stood at a distance. The two maids also knelt, their backs turned towards the entrance hall, as if unwilling to look at a certain important figure.

Directly opposite the high dome lay a "carpet" made of fish skin. A young man in a retro white robe reclined on it, propping himself up with his elbows as he quietly observed Martha.

Four other beautiful women adorned the "carpet." One knelt behind the lad, serving as his cushion. Another peeled late-ripened grapes and delicately fed them to the lad. The remaining two held trays with alcohol, food, and towels, each standing in a separate spot. Their pregnant bellies were unmistakably visible, radiating a maternal glow.

Upon Lumian's sudden entrance, the lad appeared alarmed, sitting up straight and seeking solace in the embrace of the woman behind him.

Sensing the abnormality, Rubió turned around and saw the adventurer he had hired, Louis Berry.

His pupils dilated slightly as he urgently spoke in Intisian, "Why did you come in?"

Only then did Lumian pause and smile.

"I'm a professional adventurer. You've been inside for too long. I'm worried something might happen."

As he spoke, Lumian sensed dangerous gazes from various parts of the building.

Rubió fell silent for a moment before saying, "Don't worry. Just wait outside for us to come out."

"Alright," Lumian chuckled, turned around, and sauntered into the foyer, acting as if the dangerous gazes didn't exist.

Back in the foyer, he faced the two "guards" and their rifles without giving them a glance as he walked past.

The expressions of the "guards" shifted, but they refrained from firing, allowing Lumian to exit the Governor of the Sea's residence.

Lugano breathed a sigh of relief, grateful he wouldn't be hunted down by the people of Milo Village.

Despite being a Beyonder, facing more than one armed soldier still made him uneasy.

Glancing at Lumian, he hesitated to ask why his employer insisted on barging in.

Lumian settled back beside the carriage driver, tucking in his legs with one bent and the other extended, allowing his right arm to rest on it.

After nearly ten minutes, Rubió Paco and his mother, Martha, emerged from the cathedral-like building.

Rubió took a deep look at Lumian and said, "Let's go. The Governor of the Sea has agreed to let my mother receive treatment at the Church."

Is that lad the current Governor of the Sea? He looked weak and appeared panicked. How can he protect Port Santa's fishermen and sea merchants for a year? Or does he lack abilities but possess a special symbol? Did the April Fool's prank cause an accident at last year's sea prayer ritual? This Governor of the Sea might have failed to receive the sea's boon or appointment, but the Fisheries Guild members conceal the matter to avoid causing panic, treating him as the real Governor of the Sea. He must know about what happened back then… Lumian nodded thoughtfully.

He smiled and asked Rubió in Intisian, "Then, should we thank Earth Mother for Her love and care or the Governor's approval?"

Rubió didn't respond and followed his mother, Martha, into the carriage.

Lugano hurriedly took a seat on the other side of the carriage driver, watching as the horse circled around and changed direction, gradually departing from the Governor of the Sea's residence.

Phew… Lugano sighed from the bottom of his heart.

This commission doesn't seem dangerous…

Apart from his employer insisting on barging into the Governor of the Sea's residence, there were no surprises.

Lumian chuckled and remarked, "That's because I'm here. If it were just you, those hidden observers might have already come knocking."

Lugano fell silent, observing as his employer pointed at the Governor of the Sea's mansion, resembling a cathedral, and uttered a phrase in Highlander word by word.

"What. Will happen if. Blown up?"

Lugano shuddered, his hair standing on end.

He glanced at the astonished carriage driver and advised his employer in Intisian, "You'll probably be hunted down by the entire Port Santa."

Lumian smiled and averted his gaze, remaining silent.

Only then did Lugano realize.

His employer was testing someone!

Why else would he use Highlander, a language he hadn't mastered yet?

He was testing the reactions of the carriage driver and Madame Martha in the carriage!

Listening to Martha and Rubió's conversation, Lumian noted the mother and son barely spoke during the journey, perhaps due to Martha's poor health, with occasional moans of pain.

As the carriage left Milo Village, the driver suddenly pulled the reins, stopping the horses.

An old man with a black cane had appeared in front of the carriage.

With dark and white hair, eyes as blue as the sea, and wearing common fishermen's clothes, the wrinkled face of the old man could have killed a mosquito with its folds.

"Mr. Oro…" the carriage driver whispered, his expression tense, uncertain how to react.

Juan Oro? Lumian thought. The president of the Fisheries Guild and the former village chief of Milo Village?

Supported by a young man resembling him, Juan Oro approached the Paco family's carriage with his cane.

In the carriage, Rubió and Martha remained silent.

At that moment, a revolver appeared on Juan Oro's forehead, pressing the cold muzzle against his flesh.

Lumian raised his chin slightly and looked at the president of the Fisheries Guild. With a calm expression, he asked, "Who allowed you to approach this carriage?"

-x-X-x-

The young man supporting Juan Oro glanced up at Lumian, who sat beside the carriage driver with one leg bent, the other propped up. His eyes blazed with undisguised anger.

The carriage driver jumped in fright and desperately tried to distance himself from Lumian. However, with a horse in front of him and Lugano on his left, dodging proved impossible in his haste.

Lugano swallowed hard, blaming his employer for being overly aggressive.

Is he trying to imitate Gehrman Sparrow?

But his employer hadn't exhibited such madness before; instead, he seemed intelligent!

Juan Oro, an elderly man with mottled black hair, seemed oblivious to the revolver pointed at his forehead. He turned his head, stepped aside from the firearm, and continued forward.

Observing this, Lumian pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Bang!

A yellow bullet shot from the revolver, heading straight for the side of Juan Oro's head.

At some point, a palm intercepted the bullet, causing it to decelerate and spin. The bullet landed in the palm, feeling as if it had fallen into a thick swamp.

The wide, bronzed hand belonged to the young man supporting Juan Oro. He glared at Lumian, his lips curling in disdain. Then, he bellowed, "Have you lost your mind?"

Before he could finish, fiery crimson orbs, nearly white in hue, materialized right in front of him, barely a meter away. They surrounded him in a blaze.

Almost instantly, Lumian felt as though he'd been ripped from reality. The carriage disappeared from beneath him, the ground vanished from his sight, and he found himself in an endless void of darkness.

The crimson fireballs, almost white, were controlled by an unseen force and changed direction, hurtling down from their original path.

Rumble!

They collided with the roadside dozens of meters away, carving deep, massive craters.

The horses, startled, reared up, neighing in terror. The carriage driver instinctively pulled at the reins, struggling to calm the panicked animals.

The "illusion" Lumian experienced dissolved with the explosion. He saw Juan Oro and the lad again.

Juan Oro, deeply wrinkled with his beard and hair standing on end, lifted his black cane and growled in a low voice, "Have you had enough?"

Lumian grinned and raised his revolver once more, aiming it at the president of the Fisheries Guild.

At that moment, Rubió Paco's voice echoed from the rear carriage.

"Let them through," he spoke in Intisian.

Only then did Lumian lower his arm and offer a smile in Intisian.

"My employer says you're free to pass."

He acted as if he couldn't comprehend Juan Oro and the lad's Highlander.

Juan Oro observed him for a moment before shifting his attention. Using his cane, he circled around to the side of the carriage. The lad supporting him shot a glare at Lumian, but he was at a loss for cuss words since Lumian couldn't understand.

Juan Oro glanced at the window and calmly inquired, "Martha, I heard you're not feeling well?"

"Yes," the old lady weakly replied through the glass.

Juan Oro nodded.

"Has the Governor given you permission to seek treatment? Do you need my help in pleading your case?"

"He's already given permission," Rubió replied on behalf of his mother.

"That's good." Juan Oro nodded slightly and didn't press further.

He turned and slowly walked toward the building housing the Governor of the Sea's residence, using his cane as a crutch.

The young man supporting him shot a final glare at Lumian before refocusing on the old man.

Lumian adjusted his posture, acting as if nothing had transpired. He said to Lugano, "The carriage can continue forward."

Lugano snapped out of his daze and quickly directed the startled carriage driver to soothe the horses and exit Milo Village as soon as possible.

Without any issues, they made their way back to 21 Saint Lana Street.

Lumian retrieved Ludwig, his mouth still glistening with oil, from Giorgia and smiled at Rubió Paco.

"Remember your promise. Otherwise…"

He smiled and left the statement hanging.

"Don't worry," Rubió replied in Intisian.

After Louis Berry, his godson, and the interpreter departed, Giorgia sighed in relief and glanced at her husband.

"I've never seen a child eat so much. He must be abnormal!"

"Otherwise, Louis Berry wouldn't have let him stay with us so easily," Rubió responded, unfazed.

…

Aquina Street, Solow Motel.

After shutting the door, Lugano couldn't resist asking Lumian, "W-why were you so aggressive? He's the president of the Port Santa Fisheries Guild, a big shot. And, we're in Milo Village!"

He suspected his employer had some hidden agenda.

Lumian gave his guide a glance and grinned.

"Why else? When making a scene in public, it's unlikely both parties can go all out. It's the perfect chance to test them, see what they're made of. Trying it under the cover of night, when no one cares about the Earth Mother Church's authority and the Feynapotter government? That would be way too risky."

If Lumian had discovered that Juan Oro had godlike powers, he'd need to act quickly and call for backup!

"Ah, I see…" Lugano had an epiphany.

His employer's craziness was just a facade. Every radical move had an ulterior motive!

But why is he in Port Santa? Is he planning something during the sea prayer ritual? Why target people from the Fisheries Guild?

That sounds very dangerous!

Should I resign early and forget about the remaining paycheck?

Lumian observed the silent interpreter and strolled over to a reclining chair in the living room, settling in with a smile. He leaned back and relaxed.

What he'd told Lugano was just one layer of the motivations behind his recent actions—the most surface-level one.

Most importantly, Lumian aimed to send a clear message with his radical actions:

He was in Port Santa to investigate the sea prayer ritual, unafraid of the Fisheries Guild or Milo Village. He possessed the strength and courage to back it up!

Breaking into the Governor of the Sea's residence or casually pointing a gun at Juan Oro's head and firing—all of it was to convey this information.

Lumian believed there were dissatisfied people in Port Santa regarding the Fisheries Guild's sea prayer ritual. After all, the primary beneficiaries were fishermen, sea merchants, and those in related industries, not representative of the entire Port Santa population.

For instance, even though the Church of Earth Mother and the Port Santa government had allowed the Fisheries Guild autonomy and excluded outsiders from involvement, someone bold enough to investigate, regardless of consequences, might tempt others. Could they silently or even covertly support this person to stir up trouble for their benefit?

Likewise, the beneficiaries wouldn't be united. Some gaining meant others losing; the powerful had jealous rivals. While not wanting the sea prayer ritual to end, they likely desired those in power to suffer and vacate their positions.

Lumian, by setting up a flag to investigate the sea prayer ritual and displaying decisiveness, steadfastness, and strength, didn't need to painstakingly gather clues. From his residence, he could receive various pieces of information, openly and covertly, and compare them to determine authenticity.

For an outsider with limited time, this was the fastest and most effective way to uncover the entire sea prayer ritual process and the truth about last year's accident.

For the key member of April Fool's lurking in the shadows, possibly setting a trap, this was a strategic move to draw attention to adventurer Louis Berry and raise suspicion.

In due time, armed with the acquired information and discovered clues, Lumian had a chance to expose them through their own trap.

Of course, the main drawback of this plan was its relative danger. Putting himself in the spotlight was a risk, but in the pursuit of prey, risks were inevitable. Moreover, Lumian had plenty of allies.

As these thoughts raced through Lumian's mind, he realized that becoming a Conspirer had given him a clearer understanding of the situation and the conflicts between various groups. Using a term favored by Aurore, he developed a deeper insight into conspiracies: "The most brilliant conspiracy is an open conspiracy!"

This became a key principle for his future acting.

Around 2 p.m., Lumian spotted his messenger, Penitent Baynfel, emerging from the void and handing him a letter.

Puzzled, he asked, "Who's it from?"

Haven't those he needed to communicate with already been reached?

"It's from the tall Demoness," Baynfel replied.

What's up with Franca again? Lumian took the letter and began reading.

The man she and Jenna encountered on the fourth level of the catacombs is suspected to be from the world where the Celestial Master resides—the world before her transmigration? Lumian's pupils dilated slightly.

This was different from the members of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society; they had transmigrated through their souls, but these individuals had brought their bodies over!

In the midst of his surprise, Lumian pondered a crucial question.

Why would someone like that venture into the fourth level of the catacombs?

Was it because the Samaritan Women's Spring lay sealed there, along with the River Styx's overflowing water that bridged the two worlds?

Had similar individuals entered our world before? If so, why hadn't they left any trace like Emperor Roselle and the other transmigrators?

Franca and Jenna's expedition to the fourth level of the catacombs appears laden with coincidences. Not only did they uncover a new Mirror World Fragment, but they also encountered such a person.

After penning a letter to Franca, Lumian was about to request Lugano to translate today's newspapers when footsteps echoed from the corridor.

His eyebrows twitched as he pulled up an armchair, facing the door.

Knock, knock, knock. A few seconds later, a knock resounded on their suite's door.

"Who is it?" Lugano inquired.

A mature and gentle voice floated from beyond the door.

"I'm Noelia of the Fertility Order."

Upon hearing this name, Lumian leaned back slightly and offered a smile.

He sensed that his digestion of the Conspirer potion had progressed a bit further.

-x-X-x-

Lumian hesitated, embodying the character of the adventurer—Louis Berry—

grappling with the unfamiliarity of Highlander.

Once Lugano finished translating Noelia's words, he nodded gently, sporting a welcoming smile as he spoke in Intisian, "Come in, please."

Simultaneously, he rose from his seat.

Lugano, who had already reached the door, opened it.

The figure outside indeed proved to be Noelia, the combat nun of the Fertility Order. Contrary to expectation, she wasn't cloaked in black or adorned with religious headwear. Her thick, black, curly hair flowed over her brown leather armor, and her lively light-blue eyes exuded energy.

Lumian noticed the pair of straight swords strapped to Noelia's back and the revolver at her waist. Smiling, he stepped forward.

"Thank you for your assistance."

Previously dependent on Lugano's translation, Noelia replied in Intisian, "How did you know I was here to help?"

Lumian didn't conceal his intentions for today's performance. He raised his hand, pointing at his head, indicating deduction.

Of course, his gratitude stemmed from her aid in digesting the Conspirer potion.

Noelia's thick eyebrows twitched approvingly as she nodded.

Then, she turned her gaze to Lugano and Ludwig, as if seeking Lumian's opinion on whether to have them leave. Lugano's expression made it clear he preferred not to be part of it.

Sparing Lugano, Lumian gestured for him to take Ludwig outside, perhaps for street snacks.

After the two departed the suite, Lumian remarked to Noelia, "You actually know Intisian. You didn't say a word of it earlier."

Noelia replied with a smile, "We often take turns guarding the mountain passes in the southern foothills of the Pyraez mountain range."

The Pyraez range, termed by the Feynapotter Kingdom, referred to the Dariège mountain range. Shepherds frequently traversed it, entering the plains and pastures of Gaia and other provinces.

Without awaiting Lumian's further inquiry, Noelia tucked her hair behind her ear and grinned.

"It's impolite to have a lady standing and chatting with you."

Only then did Lumian invite Noelia to sit on the divan while he chose the armchair.

Noelia gazed at him and continued, "Port Santa's sea prayer ritual dates back to the late Fourth Epoch. It's over a thousand years old and can be considered ancient. The Church once purged it, relocating all relevant insiders and purifying all participants. However, less than a hundred years later, someone here began secretly conducting the sea prayer ritual again."

She didn't explain why she shared this history; it seemed like she was merely recounting.

"They didn't continue purging it afterward?" Lumian inquired.

Noelia pursed her red lips and replied with a solemn expression, "In this matter, the brass's orders are often contradictory. Sometimes, they let our Fertility Order handle it; other times, they signal us to observe for a while. All of this has been permitted by a second-in-command Blessed."

Lumian, drawing knowledge from Madam Magician, the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society, and other sources, had come to understand that the Earth Mother Church operated on two major systems: Favored and Blessed. Favored referred to Beyonders of the Earth and Moon pathways among clergymen. Meanwhile, Blessed encompassed Beyonders of other pathways favored by the Earth Mother. Orders from a Favored required at least one second-in-command Blessed to be valid. Without this, they risked being considered products of the influence of evil gods and demons.

Lumian found the Earth Mother Church's intricate system perplexing, seemingly designed to guard against the Favored. Nevertheless, he believed that there must be a reason behind such complexity.

Having undergone numerous experiences, he became increasingly aware that seemingly inconspicuous rules in the mystical world often held lessons etched in blood.

After a moment of contemplation, Lumian inquired, "Are you a Favored or a Blessed?"

"I'm a Blessed," Noelia replied without delving into the specifics of her pathway.

Lumian nodded slightly, indicating for her to continue.

Noelia smiled and sighed.

"After a long period of repetition, we eventually reached an unspoken agreement to allow the sea prayer ritual. At the very least, it brought prosperity to Port Santa without causing social chaos or significant disruptions beyond the participants.

"That decision was made ages ago, and while ancient dossiers provide a rough understanding, the exact reasons convincing matriarchs, presidents, and archbishops remain elusive. Essentially, the sea prayer ritual has evolved into a traditional folklore in Port Santa, fostering prosperity in maritime trade and fisheries."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Noelia intoned with piety, "Life's precious embrace, the harvest's grace."

Lumian, intrigued, narrowed his eyes and inquired, "Why did you change the prayer gesture?"

Is there a problem?

Noelia opened her eyes and grinned.

"This was a gesture frequently used in the past, but as Earth Mother regained some lost authority, we adopted a new posture for formal occasions."

She rose, positioning her legs slightly apart, hands raised high, and passionately explained to Louis Berry as if preaching.

"The feet connect to the benevolent earth, and the palms reach towards the spiritual sky. In the middle resides the light of life. This is the domain of the Mother of All Things."

One can regain some of Their lost authority? Lumian was puzzled, but that wasn't the focal point.

Noelia settled back into her seat and continued, "While we haven't deciphered the core process of the sea prayer ritual, years of surveillance have yielded some insights.

"The Governor of the Sea, who successfully gains the sea's favor, wields the power to control this stretch of the sea, preventing shipwrecks. However, this seemingly comes at the cost of their lives and something more. Simultaneously, the ritual triggers rapid reproduction and thriving life in the area, ensuring fishermen a bountiful harvest. It also intertwines with fate; families with Maidens of the Sea in their lineage tend to experience good fortune, not just due to preferential treatment."

The sea prayer ritual's effects are intricate, wielding the power of the sea domain and influencing fate, reproduction, and abundance… Lumian struggled to grasp the reasons behind these occurrences.

Noelia peered into Lumian's face, her eyes bright yet gentle, and said, "The committee members of the Fisheries Guild, some villagers from Milo Village, and participants in the core process of the sea prayer ritual have all acquired mystical powers. We once confronted the little devils you encountered. When pursuing certain criminals, we discovered them transformed into lizard-like monsters."

Humanoid lizards? Similar to the Paco family's? Lumian hadn't anticipated obtaining any clues from Noelia.

Noelia smiled.

"Later, we found a commonality among those who can transform into lizard-

like monsters."

"What is it?" Lumian couldn't conceal his curiosity.

Noelia replied with a faint smile, "Their mothers were once Maidens of the Sea."

Maidens of the Sea's children? Child of the Sea? Which of Rubió's siblings did I kill? Not only did he transform into a humanoid lizard, but he also went mad and severely injured his mother? Lumian swiftly connected the dots, sensing he had grasped the essence of the Paco family's commission.

Yet, confusion crept in.

If this information is known to families with Maidens of the Sea, why would the Paco family conceal it from Juan Oro and other committee members in the Fisheries Guild?

Noelia didn't seek his thoughts and teased, "After confirming the link between the lizard-like monsters and the sea prayer ritual, we intentionally alerted the Fisheries Guild committee members. Since then, no such criminals have surfaced. They show discipline and restraint. This is why, at times, I understand why the brass tacitly permit the sea prayer ritual in Port Santa. The participants are more obedient and easily controlled compared to adventurers like you."

Noelia implied: "I just advised you to stay away from the Fisheries Guild. Yet, the next day, you stormed into the Governor of the Sea's residence, pointing a gun at Juan Oro's head. That's much more troublesome than those involved with the sea prayer ritual!"

Lumian smiled, choosing not to comment.

Noelia pondered for a moment, locking eyes with him.

"I'm not sure why you're investigating the sea prayer ritual, and I don't want to know. What I can say is, if your actions endanger all of Port Santa, we will step in and expel you. With that condition, we might offer some assistance."

Lumian picked up the straw hat beside him and pressed it against his chest.

"It would be an honor."

Noelia left the Earth Mother Church's objectives in this matter unspoken, and Lumian chose not to delve into it.

The combat nun of the Fertility Order rose, making her way toward the door.

With her left hand on the handle, she abruptly turned around, her eyes sparkling as she asked with a smile, "Do you want to have a child here?"

Lumian was taken aback.

"Madame, aren't you changing the subject too quickly?"

Noelia's eyes held a maternal glint as she said with pity, "According to our assessment, the sea prayer ritual is at least as dangerous as a Saint or a Grade 1 Sealed Artifact when fully utilized for a short period. I don't know what you're up to, but once you're involved in this matter, you can't escape just because you want to.

"Before that, have you considered leaving a descendant for yourself? I can help you."

Are your Earth Mother Church's combat nuns way of inviting someone to a one-night stand so special? Lumian was momentarily speechless.

Noelia spoke sincerely, "Descendants are the continuation of our lives. Flowers wither and fall to the ground, only to bloom into a more brilliant scenery the next year. Are you really not considering having a descendant?"

"Not for now," Lumian replied with a cold expression.

Noelia expressed regret, "Whenever you think it through, come to me."

With that, she opened the door and walked out.

-x-X-x-

Nevertheless, Noelia's kindness served as a reminder that delving into the sea prayer ritual wasn't a straightforward endeavor. The associated risks demanded the Church of Earth Mother's serious consideration.

Despite this, Lumian believed that many dangers could be sidestepped, and he wasn't inclined to actively confront them.

His primary objective wasn't to unveil the truth behind the sea prayer ritual and eradicate the influence of folklore on Port Santa, preventing its inhabitants from transforming into monsters. His true goal lay in unraveling the details of the April Fool's prank to track down Ultraman and Bard, executing them one by one. With Port Santa plagued by numerous problems and abscesses, Lumian saw no need to expose them; he could withdraw in a timely manner.

Concealing his true motives was a fundamental principle of acting as a Conspirer!

This could lead others to misinterpret his decisions and react incorrectly during critical moments.

After shutting the door, Lumian grabbed the golden straw hat and settled into the recliner. Smirking at the corridor, he muttered to himself with interest, Who will be the next to provide information?

Rubió Paco, who clearly dislikes the Maidens of the Sea and detests such matters, or the families who have lost their positions as committee members of the Fisheries Guild for many years?

Beneath the bright sunlight outside the window, Lumian swiftly flipped through the textbooks he had purchased, hoping to memorize and grasp more relevant knowledge. He couldn't wait until the charms' effects wore off, leaving nothing in his mind.

About an hour later, unfamiliar footsteps echoed through the corridor.

Knock, knock, knock. Another knock resonated on his door.

"Who is it?" Lumian inquired in simple Highlander.

"The book you bought has arrived," the motel owner, Otta Guillaume, replied in Intisian.

The book I bought? When have I ever bought a book? Lumian pondered, standing up thoughtfully. He opened the door and received a cheaply packaged but colorful book from the old man.

The title of the book was "Travel around Feynapotter."

Lumian pretended not to get the title written in Highlander and chuckled at himself.

"I'll have to wait for my interpreter to swing back and decode it for me. Might not even wrap my head around it before I bid Feynapotter farewell by flipping through a dictionary."

Otta Sr. expressed his understanding.

"When I first landed in Port Santa, seven or eight mates shared an Intisian-

Highlander dictionary. None of us dared to venture out solo. But after hanging around a bit and pushing ourselves to chat with the locals, we gradually got the hang of it. Truth be told, Highlander's quite similar to Intisian."

He turned the book over, gripping its spine and giving it a shake.

Lumian caught it and flicked it open with a swift motion.

Written on it was Intisian:

"The Maidens of the Sea are also not allowed to leave Port Santa or tie the knot with outsiders. But exceptions have cropped up over the years.

"Feynapotter's women dig romance before tying the knot and chase after love. The ladies of Port Santa are no different. Throughout the past millennium, plenty of Maidens of the Sea have bolted to preserve their love or freedom. Around 30 to 40 have made it out. The most recent case dates back over 20 years. A Maiden of the Sea married an Intisian and had a kid. We're unsure if she's still alive because the Fisheries Guild has been hunting her down.

"Her child's name is Nolfi. You might know her. She's already back in Port Santa."

Nolfi? Batna Comté's lover? She's actually a child of a Maiden of the Sea. She even dragged her "partner" to Port Santa to witness the sea prayer ceremony… Lumian sometimes felt something was off with Nolfi while on the Flying Bird, but he never guessed she was so tied up with the sea prayer ritual.

This made him wonder about Nolfi's real reasons for returning to Port Santa. Batna Comté might find himself in a mind-boggling mess over this romantic fling.

Lumian's eyes shifted down as he read the last line.

"Once you're out of these waters and Port Santa, the mystical powers from the sea prayer ritual weakens significantly. Against folks from other regions, the Fisheries Guild mostly wrangles them using adventurers, bounty hunters, and professional assassins."

Is this a go ahead to meddle with the sea prayer ritual and dig into it? As long as I could slip out of Port Santa and these waters, the Fisheries Guild's committee members would be powerless against me? Lumian had no clue about the identity of the person who delivered the paper and the intel. After all, he hadn't seen many folks' handwriting in Port Santa, but he could unmistakably sense their eagerness and anticipation.

Crimson flames roared to life, consuming the white paper laden with information. Lumian reclined, sipping on Feynapotter Kingdom's famed Manzan, the top-tier white wine produced in specific regions without dilution. He absentmindedly flipped through the book "Travel around Feynapotter" penned in Highlander.

The author raved about Feynapotter Kingdom's diverse culinary delights, praising beef, mutton, and pork while expressing disdain for the local tobacco, likening it to smoking chili.

After a stretch, Lugano returned to the suite with Ludwig, bearing a stack of street snacks—roasted baby octopuses, lamb loin, fried fish, potatoes, corn omelet, and pork rolls.

Lumian had long set aside "Travel around Feynapotter." He rose and addressed Lugano,

"Don't forget to change your appearance tomorrow to fetch our new IDs. Also, figure out where Batna Comté will be in the next two days. I want to share a drink with him."

"Alright, alright." Lugano couldn't fathom why his employer suddenly wanted to locate the finely dressed adventurer, but he sensed it wasn't as simple as a casual drink.

After assigning the task, Lumian grabbed the sun straw hat and casually mentioned as he sauntered toward the door, "I'm stepping out for a bit. I'll be back before dinner."

"D-do you need any translations?" Lugano asked instinctively.

Lumian chuckled in response.

"I'm just taking a stroll, getting a feel for the terrain. No need to chat with anyone. Don't worry, I won't lose my way."

Lugano tersely acknowledged and refrained from probing further.

He trusted that his employer's adept body language skills would make simple communication a breeze.

Once out of Solow Motel, Lumian ambled down the street.

…

Solow Motel, fifth-floor suite.

As Ludwig polished off the fermented grape juice, he leaped from the chair and headed briskly to the washroom.

Lugano slouched on the sofa, reluctant to budge.

After tending to the child for nearly two hours, fatigue had settled in. Lugano yearned for a break. His plan was to gather intel on Batna Comté and rendezvous with the spirited Feynapotter ladies at the bar later in the night.

Ludwig entered the washroom, lifted the toilet lid, and half-closed his eyes.

As he relieved himself with determination, a slim silhouette emerged from the shadows in the corner.

The black shadow took the form of an insect, about the thickness of a finger, with long bristles on its surface resembling spoiled food.

Its bristles fluttered, extending like tentacles, reaching out to touch everything in its path.

As it twisted, the black shadow silently crept up behind Ludwig. It abruptly stood up and plunged its head into Ludwig's cervical spine.

At that moment, it caught sight of the boy's brown eyes.

Abruptly, it froze, holding its shape like a snake rearing its upper body.

Ludwig, at some point, had ceased urinating and half-turned around.

He extended his right palm and seized the black shadow.

The shadow didn't put up a fight.

In the next instant, the chubby boy, Ludwig, shoved the black shadow into his mouth.

Amidst distinct chewing sounds, the lower half of the shadow's body twisted upward, melding with the blurry flesh in front of it.

In the blink of an eye, Ludwig consumed the black shadow as if it were a bowl of Feynapotter noodles.

He licked his lips, appearing as though he wanted another serving.

…

Outside Aquina Street, in the café adorned with flowers on every table.

Along the way, Lumian stumbled upon two street brawls. He snagged a skewer of Port Santa's roasted octopuses for a quick bite, yet no one approached him discreetly, attempted to stuff him with something, or whispered secret messages. There were no covert attacks.

Under the radiant sky and brilliant sun, he chose a quiet corner in a café, ordering a glass of Torres coffee with milk, relishing its rich bitterness with patience.

As time drifted by, a woman donned in a blue veil and an exquisite dress suddenly took a seat across from Lumian.

She scanned the surroundings and swiftly raised the blue fishnet hanging from the brim of her hat.

It wasn't a woman—it was a man.

A man dressed in women's attire, with distinctive features and grayish-blue eyes that couldn't conceal the anxiety on his face.

Lumian's pupils widened.

He recognized the man in the feminine garb.

It was the current Governor of the Sea!

The same Governor of the Sea whom Martha had bowed to in the cathedral-

like building, served by numerous maids!

He sought me out? The one coming to me is actually him? Lumian was both astonished and oddly convinced that this made sense.

Noticing that the adventurer Louis Berry had identified him, the Governor of the Sea lowered the blue veil, shrouding his face once more.

Then, he hushed his voice and spoke in Highlander, filled with desire and concern, "Save me! Save me!"

-x-X-x-

Lumian didn't find the current Governor of the Sea's plea for help surprising.

He raised his left hand and touched his ear. In Intisian, he asked, "What are you saying? I only understand the word 'help.'"

The current Governor of the Sea, disguised as a woman, appeared dumbfounded, as if the language barrier was unexpected.

Having racked his brains and risked his life to reach Louis Berry, the Governor of the Sea found himself unable to convey his request due to the language barrier!

Maintaining his pretense of not understanding Highlander, Lumian calmly took out a dark-red fountain pen and a stack of post-it notes, handing them over.

"Write down everything you want to say. I'll get someone to translate it."

This time, he used Intisian again but gestured with the fountain pen to guide the other party on what to do.

If the Governor of the Sea is illiterate and unable to write Highlander, it would be troublesome… I would have to resort to communicating with individual words and body language. I don't want to reveal my knowledge of Highlander yet… Lumian thought with concern.

In Intis and Feynapotter, there were numerous illiterate individuals.

The Governor of the Sea, after a brief moment of confusion, grasped Louis Berry's intentions. He took the fountain pen and note and began scribbling.

Lumian observed with a composed expression. Despite being on the opposite side, with a Hunter's vision and spatial imagination, he easily discerned the content of the written message:

"Please help me. Rescue me out of Port Santa! I'm not the true Governor of the Sea!"

Not the true Governor of the Sea… Lumian suppressed the urge to raise his eyebrows and refrained from directly asking, maintaining an appearance of complete ignorance of the words.

He desired to see what additional information the current Governor of the Sea would reveal before considering his next set of questions.

The man dressed in feminine attire paused for two seconds before continuing,

"The true Governor of the Sea died during last year's sea prayer ritual."

Dead? The genuine Governor of the Sea perished during the sea prayer ritual? Lumian felt a sudden surge of joy at this revelation.

I can finally see the tail of the key members of April Fool's!

One consequence of their prank last year was the predetermined Governor of the Sea's failure to successfully perform the sea prayer ritual. He suffered a backlash from Beyonder powers and lost his life!

This aligned with the revelations from Otta Guillaume, the Solow Motel owner, and his son, a government department clerk, regarding an increase in shipwrecks, a decline in fish harvests, and disrupted trade.

The imposter Governor of the Sea wrote swiftly, as if fearing someone might catch up to him at any moment.

"I was chosen by Juan Oro and the Fisheries Guild to impersonate the Governor of the Sea for a year because I resemble the true Governor of the Sea. This was to prevent fishermen and sea merchants from knowing about their grave mistake and the slip-up that caused the sea prayer ritual to fail. Such a failure has not occurred in recent centuries.

"Now that I know this secret, they won't let me leave alive. After the Governor of the Sea handover ritual is completed and the vigil begins, I'll undoubtedly be killed.

"I never wanted to play the role of Governor of the Sea. It was a blasphemy against the sea, but they pointed a gun at me, claiming they had already killed someone who refused to cooperate.

"The Church and the government won't intervene in the Fisheries Guild's affairs. You're the only one daring enough to infiltrate the Governor of the Sea's residence and confront Juan Oro with a gun. I can only seek your help. Over the past year, I've saved up quite a bit of money. I can give it all to you—

100,000 gold risot!

"I've heard about your recent exploits. I believe you have the strength. I implore you to help me!"

Quite educated… Lumian, after studying the three completed post-it notes, sensed that the imposter Governor of the Sea differed from ordinary fishermen, vendors, or workers based on his grammar and vocabulary.

Phew… After jotting down his reasons and request, the fake Governor of the Sea set aside the fountain pen and slid three post-it notes filled with Highlander words to Lumian.

With a quick glance, Lumian contemplated using Highlander words and body language.

"Help? Your. Family?"

The fake Governor of the Sea hastily wrote down a response: "My parents passed away a few years ago. I don't have any other relatives. I was originally an employee of the Fisheries Company."

It's no surprise Juan Oro and his associates dared to "kidnap" this person to be the Governor of the Sea. The Earth Mother Church refrains from meddling in the Fisheries Guild's internal affairs. If it affects other citizens, they will still handle it… Lumian pretended to ask first and planned to find someone later to translate the response.

"Servant girls. Pregnant?"

He inquired about the maids in the Governor of the Sea's residence and the reason for their pregnancies.

The fake Governor of the Sea, concealed behind a blue veil, displayed no change in expression. His right hand trembled slightly as he wrote: "The Governor of the Sea will receive the same treatment as the ruler of Port Santa. He can appoint anyone from Milo Village, the Fisheries Guild, and those sea merchant families as his maids and guards. He can do whatever he wants and directly visit them, enjoying the treatment an owner can receive.

"I couldn't help it."

Observing this, Lumian nearly laughed aloud.

Even in captivity, he's focused on such matters? Does he believe he can't escape and is resigned to his imminent demise? Is he seeking enjoyment while he still can?

The fake Governor of the Sea added: "I can also tax those people and forcefully allocate their market share, but they will listen to me. However, I dare not go too far. Otherwise, Juan Oro will privately whip me with his cane and threaten to kill me."

So, this is the source of your savings? Well, he can't control the weather or the tides. After all, he's merely a false Governor… Lumian took the fake Governor of the Sea's new post-it note and pondered for a moment before asking in a clumsy manner, "Original. Governor. Where?"

He inquired about the whereabouts of the former Governors of the Sea.

Noelia, the combat nun of the Fertility Order, hadn't raised this issue before. It was unclear if she deemed it unimportant, chose not to disclose it for some reason, or lacked the corresponding information.

The fake Governor of the Sea wrote: "I don't know. I heard a maid from Milo Village mention it before. She's Juan Oro's granddaughter. She said that all the Governors of the Sea will eventually return to the sea."

Return to the sea… That doesn't sound promising… Heh heh, designating Juan Oro's granddaughter as your maid. Are you seeking revenge for the oppression from her grandfather? And Juan Oro agreed to it, indirectly retaliating by lashing you? Juan Oro and his sons are married to Maidens of the Sea, and there's a chance his granddaughter is a lizard-like monster… How would you feel if you knew you were sleeping with a humanoid lizard? Lumian criticized the fake Governor of the Sea internally.

He seemed to ponder for a moment, as if unable to comprehend the other party's writing, and changed the question.

"Juan Oro. Powerful?"

The fake Governor of the Sea suddenly shuddered.

Swiftly, he wrote: "He's very powerful. He's a monster! He can suffocate people and cause them to die in pain!"

After writing this, the fake Governor of the Sea glanced at the sun outside the window. He set down the fountain pen, stood up, and bowed to Lumian.

Then, swaying in his elegant dress, he made his way toward the café's back door and departed.

He appeared anxious about his "disappearance" during the shopping trip potentially raising suspicions from the bodyguards.

Lumian observed his departure, crumpling the post-it notes into a ball in his palm.

Crimson flames trickled from between his fingers before swiftly dissipating.

After sprinkling the ashes into the bottle with flowers, Lumian picked up the partially finished Torres coffee and took a sip.

Lumian's mind raced as he analyzed the information that concerned him the most.

Is what the imposter said true? Could an ordinary person find an opportunity to escape their bodyguards and approach me? Is it possible that Juan Oro and the others secretly prompted him to set a trap for me, waiting for me to fall into it?

During the April Fool's prank, the specially crafted golden ring, lacking Beyonder powers, was concealed within the lamb's body. The lamb was taken as a sacrifice on the Governor of the Sea's ship…

Is April Fool's meant to substitute something with this ring? Is there another sacrificial ring similar to it?

Did the Governor of the Sea's appointment fail last year because the crucial sacrificial ring turned out to be a fake and couldn't be utilized?

This implies that key members of April Fool's or their subordinates are on the special ship. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been able to deceive the committee members of the Fisheries Guild and surreptitiously replace important items…

Based on the information I've gathered, there aren't many sailors on that ship. The only passengers are the Governor of the Sea, four Maidens of the Sea, and a few individuals guiding them through the ritual. Who among them is connected to April Fool's?

The Fisheries Guild must have conducted an investigation afterward. I wonder if they've drawn any conclusions…

I can't dismiss the possibility that the deceased Governor of the Sea is linked to April Fool's. Maybe he was completely deceived, thinking that by changing the ring and causing the ritual to fail, he could avoid returning to the sea like the previous Governors of the Sea. However, Bard, Mad Lady, and Ultraman may not have cared about his life at all…

What's the purpose of April Fool's? Is it merely a prank for their own amusement, or does it harbor a deeper motive?

Ordinary April Fool's members might engage purely for entertainment. As for the key members, truth and lies are invariably intertwined…

Sitting in the café until the sun neared the horizon, Lumian donned the straw hat and leisurely made his way back to the Solow Motel.

Late at night, Lugano returned from the bar, emanating the scent of alcohol. He approached Lumian and said,

"I've inquired with adventurers and bounty hunters about Batna and his lover. They all claim not to have seen them in the past few days. As soon as they arrived at Port Santa, it was as if they vanished."

Vanished? Nolfi, being the child of a Maiden of the Sea, wouldn't be so clandestine if she were merely returning to Port Santa and the Fisheries Guild… Could she be involved in something related to the sea prayer ritual and convinced Batna to join her? Yet, they were targeted upon their return? Perhaps she possesses significant knowledge… I can't personally search for them right now. I need to be more visible as an adventurer… Lugano isn't the most reliable source… What about Noelia, the nun? A flurry of speculations raced through Lumian's mind.

As his thoughts raced, he suddenly realized the kind of assistance he should seek from the Knight of Swords.

-x-X-x-