87 COI

Outside Tizamo, near the entrance to the forest, Lumian and his companions heard gunshots and shouts echoing from the direction of the military camp. The population was denser here compared to the town and plantations, and more heavily armed. Many lives were lost each year in this area.

Camus retracted his gaze and let out a sigh of resignation, like a world-weary middle-aged man. He knew he was powerless to stop the violence. His only hope was to find a way to end the Dream Festival as quickly as possible, so that more people might survive. This was why he had chosen to follow Louis Berry to the black ancient tomb.

If Camus were alone, the rational choice would be to find a secluded corner and hide until dawn, until the Dream Festival concluded—just like Kolobo planned to do. However, after witnessing Louis Berry's formidable strength and realizing the adventurer was willing to take the risk of approaching the black ancient tomb, Camus felt compelled to take action himself.

Lumian gazed ahead, trailing Amandina's light footsteps as she turned onto a narrow path threading into the forest. He harbored no illusions about single-handedly putting an end to the Dream Festival. His objectives for this mission had always been clear: Find the gold Hisoka had obtained, along with the item he had procured from the Nois family's Demon. Uncover what the key April Fool's member was scheming, to prevent Hisoka's legacy from materializing.

This was both the duty of a Tarot Club Minor Arcana card holder, and a reflection of Lumian's wariness towards Hisoka. After discovering the dream projection Hisoka had left behind, Lumian feared his adversary might exploit pre-arranged measures and the dream projection to resurrect himself to some degree during the Dream Festival, returning to the real world as a Wraith or evil spirit.

He was determined not to give Hisoka that chance.

After hearing Padre Cali's confession, Lumian's suspicions only intensified.

Hisoka returned to Tizamo each year to participate in the Dream Festival. He required no other host, and this unique dream usually proceeded without any abnormalities. It didn't appear that anyone needed to constantly monitor it.

It was important to note that prior to the fire that wiped out Hisoka's family, the special dream had existed for innumerable years. The Dream Festival had taken place countless times, yet no one had detected anything amiss. Under such conditions, the more individuals who knew the truth, the greater the danger of the information leaking out. Nevertheless, Hisoka still enticed Padre Cali and guided him to the black ancient tomb to acquire Beyonder powers.

This anomalous conduct led Lumian to surmise that Hisoka Twanaku had enlisted Padre Cali's aid in monitoring the dream to verify the status of his dream projection.

The dream projection would gradually dissipate as Hisoka departed Tizamo, ultimately vanishing altogether. If Hisoka desired its continued existence, he would need to return for a time after it had faded to a certain point. Given that the dreams surrounding the black boulder were typically in a state of disarray, the rate at which the dream projection dissipated might be erratic. This necessitated daily monitoring. As soon as the situation was deemed to have deteriorated, an urgent telegram would be dispatched to summon Hisoka back.

Naturally, as a Devil, Hisoka would never divulge his true intentions to Padre Cali. He would undoubtedly be on guard against Padre Cali exploiting the dream projection to eliminate this lurking threat. When instructing Padre Cali on what needed to be done, there was a high probability Hisoka was really having him monitor the shifting dynamics within the dream.

How could Padre Cali keep tabs on the evolving dream? Through the dream projections and the condition of the gravekeepers beside the black ancient tomb!

Regrettably, Lumian couldn't enter the dream himself. He could only entrust Amandina with questioning Padre Cali. The intelligence gleaned was superficial, not delving into the crux of the matter. It could merely aid in analysis.

If he had interrogated Padre Cali directly, he would have been able to roughly ascertain Hisoka's objective, rather than just harboring suspicions.

At present, the leads concerning the gold and the Demon's gift both pointed to the black ancient tomb. Lumian naturally had to investigate and do what he could. If the challenge truly proved insurmountable, he would decisively retreat to Tizamo and conceal himself on the third or fourth floor of the Brieu Motel, allowing the "danger" to confront Ludwig, whose appetite had grown voracious.

Amandina guided Lumian and the others through the rainforest, drawing near to the boundary of the dream.

Abruptly, Lumian raised his right hand and whispered, "Stop."

He sniffed the air, detecting the unmistakable scent of blood.

With a Reaper's keen sense of smell and meticulous nature, Lumian could discern that the blood didn't originate from jungle animals hunting each other. It was human blood, rich in spirituality.

"What's wrong?" Amandina asked, taken aback, as if recalling her first venture into this forest with Robert.

Camus quickly sensed the problem and pointed in the direction of the blood's scent.

"Something's not right over there."

Insects were gathering in that area.

Although Lumian was eager to reach the black ancient tomb to thwart Hisoka's plan, he knew that the more impatient he felt, the more cautious he needed to be. He had to remain vigilant of any abnormalities along the way to avoid walking into someone's trap or missing crucial information and rashly starting a conflict.

Aurore had once mentioned that Emperor Roselle might have said that haste makes waste.

Lumian walked towards the source of the blood's scent at a measured pace.

As he drew closer, he caught a whiff of the pungent odor of blood mingled with decay.

The latter originated from the tranquil essential oil used to repel mosquitoes.

Lumian circled a few more trees crawling with poisonous insects and saw a corpse lying face-up on the humus soil.

The corpse's eyes were wide open, and its black hair was disheveled. Its face was smeared with white paint. It was Maslow, the captain of the Tizamo patrol team!

At the beginning of the Dream Festival, Maslow, who had "disappeared" behind Lumian, had reappeared in the forest as a corpse!

"Maslow!" Camus and Rhea exclaimed in surprise.

Before they could fully process their grief, Lumian's gaze shifted downward as he examined Maslow's cause of death.

The captain of the local patrol team had deep wounds on his chest and abdomen, as if he had been attacked by spears, triangular blades, and other weapons, but the edges showed signs of tearing.

Large amounts of blood had already flowed into the ground, attracting lingering mosquitoes. There were obvious signs of decay on Maslow's body, and a yellowish-green liquid seeped out, as if he had been dead for two to three days.

After ascertaining the situation on the corpse's surface and examining the surrounding battle traces, Camus said in a somber voice, "Attacked by the power of the Death domain…"

Death domain? The image of a cold, middle-aged man in a thin suit suddenly surfaced in Lumian's mind.

Reaza, the vice-captain of Port Pylos's patrol team!

He was a Mid-Sequence Beyonder of the Death pathway!

At the beginning of the Dream Festival, Reaza had "disappeared" along with Maslow.

Camus glanced at Rhea, who wore a pained expression, and hesitantly said, "They were affected by the Dream Festival and lost control of themselves. They attacked each other. One died, and the other escaped?"

This was the most plausible conjecture for the Dream Festival.

Lumian imagined a similar scene, but he frowned in confusion and said, "Why are they in the jungle?"

Shouldn't they appear where they were in the real world?

In reality, Reaza and Maslow had already returned to Tizamo with me…

Did something lure them into the forest?

As the only member of the Port Pylos patrol team supporting Tizamo, Reaza had known from the beginning that something was amiss here. Was the true target the black ancient tomb?

Lumian looked at Camus and Rhea thoughtfully and casually asked, "Were Maslow and Reaza on good terms?"

"Excellent terms," Camus replied with a sigh. "Captain Reaza recruited Maslow into the patrol team and provided him with extensive guidance."

Lumian fell silent for a moment before saying to Amandina and the others, "Let's continue forward."

Rhea and Camus seized the moment to gather some branches to cover Maslow's corpse. Then, they quickly followed the team.

After walking along the forest path for a while, Amandina suddenly slowed her pace and pressed her hand to the side of her head.

"What's wrong?" Lumian asked keenly.

Amandina frowned and said, "My head feels a bit heavy, and I'm experiencing hallucinations."

"What kind of hallucinations?" Lumian raised his eyebrows.

Amandina replied in puzzlement, "I saw the black boulder I touched previously—no, the black ancient tomb. It felt like I had returned to the past. Do you understand? The past appeared in my mind in the form of an illusion, in front of my eyes, beside my ears."

Lumian pondered for a moment before saying, preempting Camus, "Let's go a little further and see what happens."

The hallucinations didn't incite Amandina's desire to retreat. With an experimental mindset, she followed the familiar jungle path for another few dozen meters.

"How is it?" Lumian, who was beside her, inquired.

Amandina organized her thoughts and said, "The hallucinations are becoming clearer and more pronounced."

"The closer you get to the black ancient tomb, the stronger the hallucinations become?" Lumian suggested a possibility before asking, "Did anything similar happen to Robert when he brought you here last time?"

"No," Amandina replied with certainty. "He was quite normal the entire time."

Camus speculated, "Perhaps he had already grown accustomed to the hallucinations after approaching more than once."

"Who knows…" Amandina muttered and looked at Louis Berry. "What should we do now?"

It's not a big deal if it's just hallucinations… Lumian pondered for a moment and said, "Let's continue forward."

"Alright." Amandina wasn't sure what the hallucinations represented. She endured the discomfort and said, "We'll reach the ancient tomb in a few minutes."

She continued forward.

As they walked, Amandina suddenly extended her right hand and pressed it against the forest trees beside her, bending her back.

Without waiting for Lumian to inquire, she recounted the changes in the hallucination and spoke intermittently, "I see myself… after touching the ancient tomb last time… I didn't… I didn't fall asleep immediately… I… I was still awake!"

"I… I see… someone ahead!"

-x-X-x-

"What kind of person?" Lumian perked up.

He hadn't expected Amandina's hallucination to yield unexpected insights.

"I can't see clearly, I can't. It's not that he isn't clear… It's just that I can't make out the details." Amandina straightened up again, as if she had recovered slightly.

She pondered for a moment and said, "So I didn't fall asleep immediately after touching the black boulder—no, the black ancient tomb. When I woke up, I realized that I had gained superpowers. There were still some events that transpired in between, but I don't remember them at all. It felt like I had fallen asleep.

"The hallucinations I'm experiencing might have originated from the depths of my subconscious, from forgotten memories. No, not forgotten. They're just in a deep slumber. They're starting to become active and awakening bit by bit…"

Amandina carefully assessed her condition, searching for the source of the abnormality.

Pretty smart with a good attitude. She managed to maintain basic composure... Lumian evaluated inwardly.

Amandina's behavior was unfamiliar to Camus.

In his impression, Amandina was not only beautiful but also cheerful, optimistic, and lively. She was the kind of girl who could infect those around her with joy. However, due to her young age, she still appeared naive, childish, and inexperienced.

Unexpectedly, after their encounter in the Dream Festival, she gradually displayed an openness, maturity, and calmness he hadn't anticipated.

Amandina was puzzled.

"Why didn't Robert mention any dormant memories or the fact that I didn't fall asleep immediately after touching the ancient tomb? Padre Cali also talked about fainting and awakening with superpowers.

"The number of times they have participated in the Dream Festival in their lucid state and visited the black ancient tomb must have been more than mine…"

Lumian understood what Amandina was trying to convey.

Firstly, why did Padre Cali and Robert, who had been to the black ancient tomb many times, still believe that they had fainted on the spot and regained superpowers upon waking up? Why didn't they experience hallucinations similar to Amandina's?

Secondly, Robert had seen Amandina touch the black ancient tomb. Didn't he know if she had fallen to the ground or not?

Lumian pondered for a few seconds and said, "Perhaps the person you see standing in front of you has caused the relevant memories to fall into a deep slumber. And you're from the Evernight pathway, a Nightmare. Therefore, there's something special about dreams and slumber. The closer you get to the black ancient tomb, the more likely it is to awaken the slumbering memories, causing the hallucination."

Amandina tersely acknowledged his hypothesis of her being special and proceeded with confidence.

After two minutes, Lumian suddenly raised his right hand and pressed it down. He lowered his voice and said, "Hide nearby."

He had heard soft footsteps.

Camus immediately rolled to the side and hid behind a palm tree. Rhea crawled to another tree and concealed herself among the leaves.

Lugano glanced at the forest, where countless poisonous insects and snakes lurked. He kept telling himself, "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid. I can heal myself if I'm bitten."

He quickly shrank behind a pile of huge, brightly colored mushrooms.

Amandina had experience hiding in such places. Back then, she had witnessed Twanaku heading to the black ancient tomb.

Using the cover of the night and relying on her spiritual perception, she nimbly weaved through the low green plants and hid behind a huge tree in the distance.

Suddenly, a thick vine hanging from the tree came to life and swung towards Amandina, opening its blood-stained mouth.

It was a dark-green python!

Amandina's eyes snapped shut, and she clenched her fists.

The python fell into a deep slumber, reverberating weakly. It swayed a few times before finally landing on the ground.

Seeing that his teammates had hidden themselves, Lumian's body suddenly vanished, blending into the shadows brought about by the night.

After ten to twenty seconds, a figure traversed the path ahead.

High above, through the gaps in the leaves, Rhea spotted the figure clad in an intricate black robe with obvious layers. A fluffy black hat rested on his hair, and a gently swaying white feather protruded from the edge.

Lumian, in his shadow creature form, also saw the rough appearance of the figure.

His mind suddenly tensed as confusion welled up within him.

Isn't that Iveljsta Eggers?

Why would this temperance faction member of the Church of The Fool appear in a dream and become a participant in the Dream Festival?

Over the past few days, Lumian had explored the interior of Tizamo, the surrounding plantations, and the military camps outside of town. He clearly knew which outsiders had recently arrived, and Iveljsta was not among them!

Did he arrive here after the Dream Festival began?

Yes, he once mentioned that his original mission was to investigate something in the primitive forest around Port Pylos. Then, he received a last-minute order to deal with Hisoka's contact… Could the matter he's investigating be related to the black ancient tomb? The temperance faction belongs to the Prisoner pathway, and the Eggers family is descended from Death. It's normal for the black ancient tomb and the cold corpse inside to attract the temperance faction's Eggers…

Did Iveljsta Eggers encounter the Dream Festival while searching for the primitive tribe in the forest?

As Lumian analyzed Iveljsta's appearance, he scrutinized his expression through the shadows.

He saw an indescribable ferocity on the temperance faction member's pale white face. His dark brown eyes emitted a ferocity reminiscent of a wild beast, tinged with blood under the dim crimson moon's glow.

Although he's not affected by the dream projection formed by extreme emotions and desires, it's still difficult to control oneself and be restrained during the Dream Festival… Lumian wasn't surprised.

Ludwig and Kolobo were examples.

Considering Iveljsta's current state, Lumian didn't emerge from the shadows. He patiently waited for him to leave the area as the footsteps gradually receded.

From the looks of it, he's also headed for the black ancient tomb… Lumian transformed back into a human and stood on a path overgrown with weeds, gazing at the spot where Iveljsta's back had disappeared.

He raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.

"You can come out now."

Camus, Rhea, and Lugano left their hiding spots one after another. Camus even went to wake Amandina.

Amandina looked at Lumian and asked, "Do we continue?"

Lumian replied without hesitation, "Yes."

This time, they proceeded cautiously, paying close attention to their surroundings.

After another three to four minutes, Lumian, having prepared to deal with Iveljsta and Reaza, followed Amandina's guidance and slipped through a gap between a few giant trees.

A black, colossal, and familiar boulder came into view.

At a glance, it looked like a house-sized boulder, but upon closer inspection, one could see patterns on it. There were abnormal protrusions and depressions, and thread-like cracks that ordinary eyes couldn't detect.

It was indeed not just a stone.

Around the black boulder, tree roots emerged from the ground, covering an area the size of a square, resembling the protruding blood vessels of every human. However, they had been dead for a long time and were withered.

At that moment, the place was empty, devoid of anyone.

Iveljsta didn't come here? Isn't Reaza's destination here? Did they get lost midway? Or could it be that only those who have received the boon of an ancient tomb or a corpse can truly reach this area? Lumian surveyed his surroundings in confusion.

Amandina's brows furrowed once more, and she couldn't help but press her hands against the sides of her head.

She said with a hint of pain, "Th-the hallucinations have become clearer. I-I see more.

"The figure approached me, extended his hand, and pressed it against the top of my head!

"He… He's wearing a strange hat…"

Camus, Rhea, and the others didn't interrupt Amandina to see if she could recall more or awaken more dormant memories.

Amandina muttered to herself, "Was this how I was given superpowers?"

As Lumian listened to Amandina's words, he fixed his gaze on the black boulder that was said to be an ancient tomb.

He felt a sense of familiarity.

As a Conspirer, Lumian quickly jogged his memories for the source of the familiarity.

Soon, he had an answer.

The black ancient tomb reminded him of the Samaritan Women's Spring when it wasn't pale white!

It's indeed closely related to the Death domain… Lumian examined the Blood Emperor's remnant aura in his right hand and confirmed that it wasn't affected or showing signs of activation.

At that moment, the surroundings fell into an abnormal silence.

The rustling in the forest, the cries of wild beasts, and the gunshots and screams from Tizamo seemed to have vanished. The deep night fell into complete silence.

Amandina looked up and shouted in horror, "I remember now. I remember now. When I obtained superpowers, this place was also this quiet. It didn't seem like the Dream Festival at all!"

In the next moment, Amandina's pupils dilated.

"He… He… That figure… That figure has appeared!"

Huh? Rhea, Camus, and Lugano looked at the black ancient tomb solemnly and blankly. They didn't see anyone or anything unusual.

Amandina's voice turned shrill.

"Can't you see? He… He's walking towards me… He's walking towards me!"

For a moment, Lumian and company couldn't determine if Amandina's illusion was so vivid that it was almost real, or if something had indeed happened.

"No! Don't come any closer!" Amandina shouted, her expression breaking down as she gazed at the empty area ahead.

With this shout, Lumian felt the entire area tremble slightly, and his surroundings blurred.

In the blurriness, scenes appeared, like different fragments of a dream.

These scenes centered on the black ancient tomb, but different people stood beside it.

In some scenes, Reaza stood in a thin black suit. In others, Iveljsta stood in a feathered hat. A man and a woman approached side by side, while others surrounded black-

robed humans.

One of the black-robed humans turned to Lumian with a smile.

His skin was light brown, and his flaxen eyes were tinged with dark green. He was none other than "Hisoka" Twanaku.

-x-X-x-

Lumian raised his eyebrows and returned Hisoka's gaze with a radiant smile.

The two individuals in different scenes exchanged glances through the blurry void, each casting their eyes in opposite directions.

Reaza, Iveljsta, and the man and woman who had just arrived in Tizamo had clearly seen the people in the other scene. They were astonished and dumbfounded by this incomprehensible, bizarre situation, but they couldn't interact with each other.

The gravekeepers in the same scene as Hisoka appeared to be praying, oblivious to the changes in their surroundings or treating them as if nothing unusual had occurred.

Lumian surveyed the area and vaguely comprehended the situation.

Regardless of how real this place seems, various encounters will mirror reality to different degrees. At its core, it remains a dream. And under the influence of the black ancient tomb or the cold corpse within, this area has fragmented into multiple dream shards. Each time a new group arrives, a fresh fragment is generated…

If not for Amandina's or my arrival triggering some abnormality, it would be impossible for people in different scenes to interact. They wouldn't be able to attack each other, nor could they see, hear, or detect one another's presence.

This must be why the gravekeepers vanish every time the Dream Festival commences.

They don't disappear. They're simply in different dream fragments from the Dream Festival participants.

Based on the results of the previous spirit channeling, is this some kind of concealment?

But the black ancient tomb hasn't been unsealed yet…

As Lumian's thoughts raced, Amandina's voice grew increasingly shrill, filled with terror.

"He's right in front of me! Save me! Save me!"

Lumian stared at Amandina, who was retreating in an attempt to evade the invisible creature, but he couldn't perceive the figure she described.

In the brief span of more than ten seconds since Amandina's panic attack, Lumian had used his Spirit Vision, Weakness Investigation, Luck Observation, and other abilities, but he hadn't detected anything unusual.

He was on the verge of taking out the Mystery Prying Glasses and the Eye of Truth.

Lumian reached into his Traveler's Bag. Without a rough grasp of the situation, he didn't know how to rescue Amandina, who had broken down from fright.

Just as his fingers brushed against the Mystery Prying Glasses, Amandina was suddenly taken aback.

After a moment, she turned to Lumian and said in bewilderment, "He—he turned and left. He seems to have recognized me…"

"Recognized you?" Lumian felt compelled to confirm Amandina's mental state.

Amandina replied in confusion, "Yes, he nodded at me and left."

Is this why, after the Dream Festival begins, anyone who wishes to approach the black ancient tomb must be guided by someone who has received the boon of the ancient tomb or the corpse? Robert and Padre Cali likely played the same role in similar scenes, but they don't belong to the Evernight pathway and lack dream-related abilities, so they didn't notice… Did the people in the other dream fragments also receive the boon of the black ancient tomb or the cold corpse? Lumian's heart stirred as he asked Amandina, "Where did he go? Where did that figure go?"

Amandina's gaze shifted to the periphery of her surroundings.

Her eyes widened with lingering fear and excitement. She raised her palm and pointed at the dream fragment where the man and woman were.

"He went there.

"He's gone through! He's gone through!"

Amandina's explanation made Lumian and the others feel the black ancient tomb solidifying and becoming heavier. The entire area shook even more violently.

Simultaneously, Lumian sensed a familiar burning sensation on his left chest, but he didn't hear any ravings that seemed to come from an infinite distance.

In a daze, he saw a huge aqua-colored vortex, a dim village shrouded in gray fog, and figures within the village.

Shepherd Pierre Berry, who believed in Inevitability, and Lumian's friend, Azéma Lizier, raised their pale-white arms, as if silently shouting.

Lumian also spotted his semi-subterranean two-story house and Aurore, sitting quietly on the orange roof with her arms crossed.

Lumian no longer resisted the illusion.

He roughly understood what was happening.

As the figure entered other dream fragments, the black ancient tomb's abnormality intensified. It contained the power of the Death domain, "awakening" the Cordu villagers within the seal.

These villagers were already deceased, with only soul fragments remaining. Naturally, they would be affected by the power of the Death domain.

This realization made Lumian feel pain, sorrow, and bitterness that he hadn't experienced in a long time.

He "watched" Aurore, clad in a light-blue dress with thick, long blond hair and light-blue eyes. She didn't attempt to resist the invisible power of death.

"He walked to that woman," Amandina continued dutifully.

That woman? Camus, Rhea, and Lugano turned their attention to the corresponding dream fragment.

Having just arrived in Tizamo that night, the lady in the light-colored dress didn't hear Amandina's words. She only knew that the patrol team was looking at her.

Her spirituality gave her a sense of foreboding. She hurriedly turned to her companion and asked, "Devajo, do you sense any malice?"

The man named Devajo, dressed in a dark gray suit, slowly shook his head and said, "Nothing."

In the dream fragment where Lumian and the others were, Amandina explained in high spirits, "He… The figure… extended his hand! He pressed his hand… on that woman's head!"

Just as Amandina finished speaking, Devajo saw his companion, the lady in the light-colored dress, suddenly collapse to her knees. Her expression was stiff, and her face was abnormally pale-white.

Ooo!

In all the dream fragments, an ice-cold wind howled.

Lumian "saw" Aurore standing up on the orange roof, her expression dazed as she gazed into the sky, as if sensing something.

She opened her mouth and spoke almost instinctively.

Lumian didn't know the corresponding language, but he had heard something similar before.

It was the language used by Armored Shadow Chen Tu, a language that Franca occasionally uttered a word or two of!

Although he couldn't understand, Lumian vaguely grasped what his sister was talking about, perhaps due to the connection between them at the soul level.

She muttered to herself, "An immortal blessed my crown, bestowing upon me the gift of eternal life.

In the dream fragment where Devajo was, the light-colored lady's hat, which had unconsciously fallen to her knees, suddenly flew off.

On her neck, the backs of her hands, and the surface of her face, pores opened one by one, producing white feathers tainted with faint yellow stains.

Devajo observed this scene with a solemn expression. He didn't attempt to interrupt his companion's abnormality and instead took a few cautious steps back.

He couldn't comprehend what was happening. Although he hadn't sensed any malice directed at him, he prudently distanced himself from the anomaly.

The lady in the light-colored dress's azure eyes had lost focus, appearing abnormally vacant and lifeless.

In the blink of an eye, the white feathers, tainted with light-

yellow oil stains, seemed to possess a consciousness and life of their own. They frantically emerged from the gaps in the fabric of the dress.

Within moments, the lady in the light-colored dress was enveloped by white feathers tainted with light-yellow oil stains.

Her body grew light and gradually floated, becoming increasingly illusory.

Her azure eyes fixed on Devajo as she shouted in a hollow and agitated voice, "I've become a god! I've achieved immortality!"

The white-feathered monster hovered above the black ancient tomb, incessantly shouting, "I've become a god! I've achieved immortality!"

In another dream fragment, Lumian heard Aurore change her words.

With a fearful expression, she whispered, "Immortal Ascension…"

In the next instant, the ethereal monster, covered in white feathers, flew towards the black ancient tomb in the dream fragment.

She passed through the stone wall on the tomb's surface and vanished.

Suddenly, the frigid wind ceased, freezing.

The black ancient tomb shook visibly, and the tomb door, outlined by hair-like cracks, emitted the sound of dull rubbing, as if someone was trying to push it open from within.

Aurore, "in front" of Lumian and the "surrounding" Cordu began to fade, as if erased by an eraser.

Lumian glanced at the slowly opening tomb door and turned to "Hisoka" Twanaku, who was in another dream fragment.

The dream projection wasn't surprised by the abnormality, nor did he show any fear. Instead, the silent gravekeepers around him rose to their feet.

Amidst the illusory sound of water, the tomb door of the black ancient tomb opened completely.

Accompanied by this change, all the dream fragments that appeared in the blur seemed to be pulled by an invisible force, fusing together.

Devajo, Reaza, Iveljsta, Hisoka Twanaku, and the gravekeepers materialized in front of the black ancient tomb, near Lumian and the others.

"Hisoka" Twanaku smiled, as if he had anticipated that one of the outsiders would transform into a "god" and that the ancient tomb's door would open at this very moment.

He retrieved a golden mask from his black robe.

The mask appeared to be crafted from pure gold, its eyes and face smeared with white and black paint, giving it an unsettling appearance.

Twanaku donned the golden mask and, unlike the other gravekeepers, didn't retreat. Instead, he sprinted towards the black ancient tomb and the open tomb door.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Lumian heard a distinct heartbeat.

It emanated from within the black ancient tomb.

-x-X-x-

As Lumian heard his heartbeat, a palm reached out from the open door of the black ancient tomb.

The palm showed no signs of decay or yellow bandages. Its surface was covered in gold, shimmering with a mystical hue under the dim crimson moonlight.

Upon seeing the golden palm, Lumian felt an invisible force compress his soul, instantly severing its connection to his body.

Immediately after, he realized his body had transformed into a cold, solid wall, preventing his spirit from spreading or being controlled by his consciousness.

At that moment, Lumian's soul felt trapped in a cage, unable to escape. He could only see limited scenes through his eyes and hear relatively loud voices with his ears.

Everyone present turned into statues, frozen in place.

Faced with this situation, Lumian suddenly recalled a saying: The body is a cage for the heart, and the world is a cage for the body.

In the stillness, the only person still moving was "Hisoka" Twanaku.

The golden mask on his face emitted a hazy glow as he swiftly approached the black ancient tomb and the golden palm extending from it.

Although Lumian couldn't move or use his abilities, his soul was merely "imprisoned"—it didn't affect his thoughts.

Seeing that "Hisoka" Twanaku was almost unaffected by the golden palm, Lumian quickly deduced several things.

There's a high likelihood the gold Hisoka seized from Devise—the gold mine city—was used on the cold corpse in the black ancient tomb.

The item he obtained from the Nois family's Demon is likely the golden mask he now wears.

The former was an attempt to revive the cold corpse. Its equivalent to Franca's mention of creating a complete body. The latter ensures Hisoka can approach the target unaffected after the cold corpse's "resurrection" and achieve a certain goal.

Did Hisoka once plan to use this to control the cold corpse and attain demigod-level strength?

When 1 killed him in the real world, did the him in the dream attempt to "resurrect' through this?

Yes, Hisoka's Wraith power comes from the same source as the cold corpse. Perhaps there's a way to make the corpse believe he's its original spirit and accept his lead…

Based on the information I've gathered and what just transpired, humans who have received the boon of the black ancient tomb and the cold corpse can open the tomb without waking the corpse. To awaken it, an intruder must be bestowed with immortality by an invisible figure, ascend to godhood, and enter the ancient tomb.

And intruders will only be attacked by invisible figures without the Dream Festival's bestowed guides…

It's best for an intruder to remain lucid?

How did Hisoka know outsiders would participate in the Dream Festival this year and arrive at the black ancient tomb?

He didn't have such a plan to begin with? That's because he didn't know he was going to die. If he can't complete his plan during this year's Dream Festival, the dream projection will completely dissipate in the next few months, causing him to lose his last hope of revival…

The involvement of outsiders was a pleasant surprise for him?

No, its too much of a coincidence. Reaza's rushing over can be explained by his discovery of me investigating the Dream Festival and his worry that he wouldn't have a chance to obtain what he wants after this year. But why did Iveljsta coincidentally come to this primitive forest to investigate something? Why did two Beyonders who can remain lucid in the special dream arrive just before the Dream Festival began?

Moreover, why did the Rose School of Thought send someone to Matani in the last few mon ths of the year to gather detailed day- to – day information ?

"Hisoka" Twanaku originally planned to complete his plan during this year's Dream Festival. He deliberately leaked some information and clues to attract different factions of interest.

The information these factions received wasn't detailed enough. They had no choice but to dispatch personnel in advance to conduct the corresponding investigations or bribe members ofMatani's patrol teams…

This may very well be the truth, a truth that doesn't rely on coincidence. The only thing Hisoka didn't anticipate was his demise before the Dream Festival began.

Now, the Dream Festival is his last and only hope for resurrection.

If he fails to achieve his plan, he will die completely after today!

No wonder he's so secretive about Tizamo despite being honest about everything else in the dream…

Hisoka is truly a cunning Devil skilled at manipulating people's hearts. If he hadn't been bent on killing me and his identity had given him a good opportunity to choose to stay in Port Pylos, he wouldn't have been easy to lull. Yes, if 1 had played by the book and lacked the goodwill of a high -ranking entity, 1 might have died at his hands.

The Demon of the Nois family also has designs on the cold corpse in the black tomb and wants to use the Dream Festival. Therefore, when Hisoka mentioned the Dream Festival in his dream, he was immediately attacked by the shadow… Among those present, who is the Demon's minion?

Or could it be that the Demon from the Nois family hasn't arrived yet and wants to wait until the end, when the situation is clear, before taking action and completing the harvest?

If it's just a dream projection, without the main body's cooperation, there should be a huge loophole in Hisoka's plan. Where is the loophole?

Trapped in his body, Lumian couldn't stop Hisoka. He watched helplessly as Hisoka ran to the open door of the black ancient tomb.

Wait…

Since the black ancient tomb reminds me of the Samaritan Women's Spring, 1 can try that method…

Lumian acted without hesitation, focusing his attention on his Spirit Body's right hand.

Alista Tudor's remnant aura didn't just permeate his body!

And the Blood Emperor was closely linked to the Samaritan Women's Spring!

Wearing a golden mask, Hisoka's body began to etherealize uncontrollably.

Just as he was about to grasp the hand of the corpse protruding from the black ancient tomb, he suddenly sensed an extremely terrifying, frenzied, and violent aura appearing behind him. It soared into the sky explosively, sweeping through the surroundings.

The crimson moon's glow dimmed, and "Hisoka" Twanaku's body instinctively stiffened, trembling violently.

Splash!

An illusory sound of water echoed from the black ancient tomb, and the golden palm seemed to be dragged back into the tomb by some unknown force.

The feeling of their souls being imprisoned within their bodies dissipated. Lumian hurriedly halted the dissipation of the Blood Emperor's aura.

Although Amandina, Camus, Devajo, and the others instinctively felt fear, the confinement of their spirits and fixed line of sight prevented them from discovering the source of the aura that conquered everything.

Ignoring the search for the origin of the terrifying aura, the fierce-eyed Iveljsta followed his instinctive desire and retrieved an item from his hidden pocket.

It was a palm-sized rag doll, dressed in a black Gothic dress entwined with eerie vines. It had long golden hair and blood-red eyes.

The doll was sinister. Just the sight of it made Lumian's flesh crawl beneath his skin.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The heartbeat in the black ancient tomb intensified, becoming resounding.

Beside the tomb door, "Hisoka" Twanaku felt a chill run down his spine, as if targeted by an evil being.

Instinctively, he recalled something.

Years ago, gravekeepers had found a half-withered evil heart near the black ancient tomb.

The gravekeepers believed that the ancient corpse in the tomb had been lost due to some mutation. After all, the characteristics of its power were the same, and the levels seemed similar. Therefore, they placed the heart back into the tomb.

Just a moment ago, the long-dead heart had begun to beat, but now it beat stronger and faster!

Not far from Iveljsta, Reaza also made a move.

He produced a mask.

The mask, also made of gold, bore a striking resemblance to the one worn by Hisoka. Varying shades of white and black paint adorned the eyes and face!

The difference between the two golden masks was that the one in Reaza's hand was darker, as if touched by death.

Then, Reaza produced a human skull carved from crystal.

He placed the dark golden mask on the crystal skull's face.

A frigid wind gusted, engulfing the crystal skull in a massive vortex. The crystal skull, adorned with the golden mask, levitated, as if it had grown an invisible body made of wind.

An intense coldness spread in all directions, condensing a layer of frost on the ground.

The man named Devajo reached behind his head and grasped something in his hair.

With a sudden tug, he ripped off his skin, along with his dark gray suit.

Devajo took on a different appearance. He had black hair, brown eyes, a cold expression, and high cheekbones. He was in his thirties or forties, dressed in a white shirt and black pants.

He flipped the human skin in his hand, revealing dense, dizzying blood embroidery beneath.

Devajo opened his mouth and spat out mouthfuls of blood, emitting a strong sulfuric smell.

The blood protruded from the human skin, forming a green-eyed man in a dark gray suit.

With a playful smile, the "man" approached the black ancient tomb.

Lumian quickly scanned the area, his eyelids twitching three times.

He couldn't help but criticize, Do you all possess godhood-level powers that you can utilize?Although they all seem to be one-time use… Are you bullying me for not having any?

Despite Lumian's criticism, he quickly recited an honorific name in ancient Hermes.

It was Madam Magician's honorific name.

However, it failed to penetrate this special and hidden dream.

Lumian wasn't dejected. His goal wasn't the black ancient tomb, nor was it the cold corpse or its beating heart.

Now that he knew the whereabouts of Hisoka's gold, there was only one thing he wanted to do.

Eliminate Hisoka's dream projection, take away the golden mask, and let him perish completely!

-x-X-x-

The three items hadn't reached the point where Lumian couldn't be under their gaze simultaneously, and they appeared to last only a few minutes. However, they displayed certain humanoid characteristics, as if they possessed the ability to think and make decisions on their own. If targeted by them, it would be no different from facing weakened Sequence 4 demigods.

Under such circumstances, Lumian naturally wouldn't take the initiative to enter the eye of the storm and help "Hisoka" Twanaku share the burden. He even felt that if his rival was killed by an outsider whom he had personally attracted, it would be cause for celebration. It was inevitable—after all, since he had already killed Hisoka once, he wasn't obsessed with obliterating the other party's resurrection. Having someone else "do it" for him could reduce his spirituality expenditure.

As Lumian gazed at the open tomb door, he retreated a few steps to the edge of the area. He quickly said to Amandina, Camus, Rhea, and Lugano, "Retreat to the edge!"

Upon hearing this order, Lugano's face lit up with happiness. He was the first to turn around and sprint away.

Rhea raised her hunting bow, aiming left and right, taking slow steps back to guard against any attacks. Camus's performance was similar to hers, but he held his custom revolver.

Amandina glanced at the sinister rag doll, the crystal skull adorned with a golden mask, and the green-eyed man with bulging human skin. She felt lightheaded, as if she was too exhausted to control her body.

She instantly realized that these were things she shouldn't come into contact with. What transpired beside the black tomb was beyond her ability to interfere.

She swiftly turned her back to the ancient black tomb and prepared to follow Lugano to the edge of the area.

At that moment, Lumian, wearing a grayish-white lightning-shaped brooch, glanced at the gravekeepers who were also hurriedly retreating and thoughtfully asked Amandina, "Where's that figure?"

Amandina ran nimbly, synchronizing her movements with her breathing as she replied, "I don't know! He's gone!"

As soon as she finished speaking, the illusory water reverberating in the black tomb ceased.

The palm-sized evil rag doll in the Gothic dress suddenly floated up, escaping Iveljsta's grasp.

It hovered in midair, with "Hisoka" Twanaku's figure reflected in its blood-red eyes.

Twanaku, who was about to reach into the ancient black tomb, suddenly felt the golden mask on his face come to life. It first pressed inward, as if it wanted to crush his skull, then pulled outward, as if trying to escape.

Hisoka instinctively raised his right hand to press the golden mask back, only to realize that his sleeve had tightly wrapped around his arm, immobilizing it, almost like it was tied up.

Remembering the fate of a godhoodless individual losing the golden mask at the tomb's entrance, Twanaku didn't hesitate. His body became completely ethereal as he transformed into a Wraith.

Then, he vanished from in front of the black tomb and reappeared in the pupil of one of the gravekeepers who had removed their golden mask.

Due to the untimely demise of Hisoka's physical body and his inability to get "assistance," Hisoka had no choice but to modify his plan and wait for the three factions vying for the cold corpse in the ancient black tomb to begin fighting.

When the chaos reached its peak and the corresponding items were nearly depleted, he would re-enter the fray and compete for the corpse.

As Hisoka temporarily retreated, the area in front of the ancient black tomb became vacant.

Just as the palm-sized evil rag doll was about to float over, the crystal skull, adorned with a golden mask, flew diagonally, enveloped by a vortex-shaped body formed by the cold wind.

Pale-white flames ignited in its eyes, with a hint of darkness at the center.

In response, illusory black water seeped out of the black tomb's walls, forming a silent river that blocked the entrance.

The river was clearly similar to a stream, but it gave Iveljsta, Devajo, Reaza, and the others a vast and expansive feeling.

Their bodies gradually turned cold, and their lives drained faster, irreversibly.

The evil rag doll, clad in a black Gothic dress, hovered in midair, not attempting to cross the silent river.

The crystal skull, adorned with a golden mask, descended into the river.

The wind vortex that constituted its colossal body howled and expanded, as if transforming into an invisible ferry that floated steadily on the surface of the silent river.

The crystal skull, adorned with a golden mask, steered the ferry against the current, slowly approaching the open door of the ancient black tomb.

The green-eyed man, dressed in a dark gray formal suit made of human skin and blood, stood at the back, observing the scene.

With a smile, he opened and closed his mouth, as if silently muttering to himself.

Almost simultaneously, the crystal skull on the invisible ferry emitted a cracking sound.

The pale-white flames in its eye sockets flickered violently, and tiny patterns appeared on its crystalline surface, causing invisible dust to fall.

The ferry itself alternated between expansion and contraction, becoming extremely unstable as it slowed down on the River of Death.

Lumian paid no attention to the battle unfolding in front of the ancient black tomb. With a single glance, his body ignited with intense white flames.

Swoosh!

He transformed into a flaming spear and crossed a distance of 20 to 30 meters, aiming at the gravekeeper whose body had been possessed by "Hisoka" Twanaku.

Hisoka raised his head, revealing a face with light-brown skin and wild beauty.

Rhea!

The gravekeeper whose body had been possessed by Hisoka was Rhea's dream projection!

Facing the rapidly expanding reflection, transforming from a speck of white light into a blazing white flaming spear with a burning tip, Hisoka didn't dodge. He assumed a stance allowing Lumian to attack.

The blazing-white flame spear was incredibly fast. He didn't have time to raise his hunting bow, aim, or shoot. He only slightly bent his arm.

He felt a searing pain, as if his body and soul were about to be pierced.

Hisoka showed no fear. Instead, he chuckled.

The blazing-white flaming spear passed over his shoulder and landed behind him, failing to strike him.

The flames dissipated, revealing Lumian.

The Hisoka in Rhea's dream projection's eyes vanished.

Rhea's dream projection spun around, her expression cold and filled with hatred. She raised her hunting bow, aimed at Lumian, and drew the bowstring.

She was a dream projection formed by excessive desires and emotions, unable to control herself.

"Hmph!"

Two beams of white light shot out from Lumian's nose. Before Rhea's dream projection could release an arrow wrapped in lightning, her eyes closed, and she fainted, collapsing to the ground.

Rhea, who had just arrived at the periphery, trembled.

Her eyes reflected the black-robed "Hisoka" Twanaku.

The strength of their souls differed significantly, and Hisoka easily possessed and seized control of Rhea's body.

Taking advantage of the fact that Camus, Amandina, and Lugano hadn't noticed Rhea's abnormality, he changed the direction of his bow and aimed it at Camus.

Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle. The arrowhead became engulfed in bright lightning.

As soon as Rhea aimed her bow and arrow at Camus, he sensed her incongruent state and noticed her abnormal behavior.

As a member of the patrol team with considerable combat experience, Camus looked at Rhea without hesitation, his eyes flashing with blinding lightning.

Simultaneously, Hisoka, who had anticipated this, detached from Rhea's body and leaped into Amandina's beautiful azure eyes.

Two blinding lightning bolts shot out of Camus's eyes and drilled into Rhea's head.

Rhea's eyes bulged, and her mouth gaped open. She leaned back, as if she had suffered a heavy blow, but she couldn't make a sound of pain.

Psychic Piercing!

Camus's Psychic Piercing struck her before her arrow could leave the bowstring, causing her to feel pain from the depths of her soul. Her mind went blank as she stood rooted to the ground.

Poof. The arrow, engulfed in bright lightning, shot out unsteadily, missing Camus and flying a short distance away.

Amandina, with "Hisoka" Twanaku's figure reflected in her azure eyes, felt a chill run down her spine. A dense coldness enveloped her, freezing her soul and rendering her unable to control her limbs.

Behind her, Lumian's figure swiftly materialized.

"Ha!"

Lumian opened his mouth and decisively spat out a faint yellow blob of light.

However, Hisoka had no intention of stopping. He shifted his position with another Mirror Jump.

Thud!

Amandina collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Compared to Padre Cali, Hisoka clearly excelled in combat, possessing a wealth of experience and outstanding talent.

This time, Hisoka appeared on a water droplet on the surface of a leaf more than ten meters away. He leaped out and looked at Lumian and the others with a smile.

He wanted to use Wraith Shriek to attack Lumian Lee and his companions in a wide range, rendering some of them unable to fight and temporarily immobilizing the rest.

Upon realizing this, Lumian chose not to teleport outside Wraith Shriek's range. Instead, he withdrew his palms.

A blazing white fireball condensed, the size of the black tomb.

"Ah!"

Amidst a piercing howl of pain, the colossal white-hot fireball flew out.

With a smile, Hisoka vanished from the tree and leaped into Camus's pupils, where blood flowed from his eyes, nostrils, and ears.

At that moment, the colossal blazing white fireball split into dozens of smaller ones.

Accompanying this transformation, the grayish-white Fury of the Sea brooch on Lumian's chest erupted with bright, silver-

white, and innumerable bolts of lightning after he was struck by Wraith Shriek.

The lightning coiled around the incandescent white fireballs and split into dozens, enveloping the area.

Rumble!

Amidst the consecutive explosions, Rhea, Lugano, Amandina, and Camus were sent flying by the wind and waves. They suffered burns and were struck by a net of lightning.

Camus's entire body went numb, and his gaze lost focus. Hisoka, who was attached to him, also suffered an electric shock. Due to his Wraith state, he was severely injured and couldn't undergo a new round of Mirror Jumps.

Lumian recovered from the Wraith Shriek's assault. He looked at Hisoka, who had emerged from Camus's body, and his lips curled up.

He was using Precision.

The goal was to attack every target indiscriminately and ensure the damage was acceptable.

And when he launched an attack, he didn't need to consciously control it. The Fury of the Sea would automatically add an electric shock to all his offensive fireballs!

-x-X-x-

Lumian endured the pain in his soul and eardrums as he activated the black mark on his right shoulder.

His figure abruptly vanished, swiftly materializing beside Camus and Hisoka.

As the residual silver-white electric currents surged into the ground, Hisoka, in Wraith form, was about to escape the paralysis's effects. Lumian activated the black mark on his right chest.

This corresponded to the Spell of Harrumph.

Just as he was about to harrumph, a sudden premonition of danger struck him. He abruptly turned around and stepped back.

A spear condensed from the light of dawn hurtled from afar, spanning a distance of 30 to 40 meters. It flew past Lumian and plunged into the soil behind him, leaving a deep hole as thick as an arm.

Lumian saw his attacker--one of the gravekeepers on the verge of escaping to the periphery.

He was tall, and even in his black robe, his robust strength was evident. A broadsword of light had already condensed in his hand.

A Dawn Paladin? A gravekeeper who received a boon from the Warrior pathway from the black ancient tomb? Lumian wasn't surprised at all. Instead, it only confirmed his suspicions.

What made his scalp tingle was that the other gravekeepers had also turned to face him.

The dozen or so bestowed locked their gazes onto Lumian.

Hisoka had already broken free from the paralysis caused by the electric shock. Worried about the Spell of Harrumph's control, he endured the pain and leaped into the eyes of one of the gravekeepers. Then, he broke free and transformed back into a human.

He looked at Lumian, who was dozens of meters away, and his smile widened.

I'm also a gravekeeper now. Harming me means harming the gravekeepers!

Although they won't actively assist me and will try to escape once the tomb is opened using the current method, they will undoubtedly react if you threaten me.

This is one of the reasons I dared to "invite" outsiders to the Dream Festival and guide them here.

Unfortunately, my main body is dead, and I can't obtain the promised godhood item from the Celestial Worthy and Loki to resist the outsiders' high-level powers. For now, I can only wait patiently.

According to the original plan, if something went wrong, I could choose to abandon the corpse in the tomb and help the Nois family's Demon obtain it to aid the Rose School of Thought in exchange for other rewards. Now, I must obtain the corpse and become its "spirit."

Only then can I survive after the Dream Festival and maintain my consciousness and rationality as a demigod-level undead creature.

However, these matters don't concern you, Lumian. You have to face a Guardian and multiple Spirit Warlocks, Gatekeepers, Soul Assurers, Spirit Guides, and Dawn Paladins...

No one below Sequence 4 can withstand the assault of such a Beyonder "army!"

Lumian watched as the gravekeepers' gazes fell upon him. Some of them even condensed broadswords of light. As they charged forward, Lumian tensed up. He reached out, grabbed Camus's shoulder, and teleported away from his current position.

Not long after they vanished, the ground silently collapsed, and pale-white palms extended outward.

Lumian appeared beside the severely injured Rhea with Camus and grabbed her shoulder with his other hand.

Then, the trio swiftly vanished, reappearing beside Amandina, who had awakened from the electric shock.

The distance between them and the gravekeepers widened to nearly a hundred meters.

Lumian clamped his feet around Amandina's arm, releasing the accumulated spirituality and strength in his body.

His condition returned to normal, and he activated the black mark on his right shoulder once more.

This time, the four of them teleported to Lugano, who was self-healing.

As Lumian continued to flash, some of the gravekeepers' Beyonder powers failed to hit them. The remaining ones were forced to change directions repeatedly, preventing them from closing the distance.

Just as Lugano was about to tell his employer, "Let's escape quickly. Teleport us back to Tizamo," he saw Lumian toss Camus and Rhea towards him.

Thud!

The three of them collapsed together, followed by Amandina.

"Ha!"

Lumian spat out a pale-yellow light, enveloping the four of them.

Lugano, Amandina, and the others lost consciousness. With their souls' strength, it would take them at least a minute to regain consciousness without external stimulation.

With this done, Lumian teleported away once more, preventing himself from being targeted by the gravekeepers whose abilities were effective at this distance.

His body vanished, and the gravekeepers, including Hisoka, lost sight of him.

Lumian silently materialized behind the gravekeepers, appearing in front of a palm tree.

Leaning against the rough trees, he retrieved an item from his Traveler's Bag.

It was a blackened bone flute with blood-colored holes.

Symphony of Hatred!

Lumian's lips curled up as he brought the sinister bone flute to his lips with a smile.

Almost simultaneously, "Hisoka" Twanaku felt a strong premonition of danger. He abruptly turned around, spotted Lumian, and locked onto him. He activated his Devil form, transforming into a pitch-black monster nearly three meters tall with curved goat horns and bat-like wings.

Hisoka instinctively abandoned his Wraith form, forsaking the plan of possessing Lumian Lee and restraining him. He found it impossible to remain calm under the aura capable of conquering everything and reflexively fled from the other party.

Accompanied by Hisoka's movements, the gravekeepers also turned.

Lumian's lips touched the black bone flute, emitting a bloody scent, and he played the first note.

The smile on his face widened.

In the real world, facing such a large group of Sequence 7, 6, and 5 Beyonders, he could only teleport Lugano and the others back to Tizamo. However, this was the Dream Festival. Apart from the few who had recently arrived and could remain lucid, the others were either fused with their dream projections or allowed the corresponding dream projections to move independently.

Dream projections were formed from excessive desires and emotions, and they would lose control during the Dream Festival.

Realizing that Hisoka's dream projection could also become a gravekeeper and maintain a certain level of lucidity and rationality, Lumian believed that it wasn't that the gravekeepers didn't have dream projections, but that they had fused with them. Using their uniqueness and their self-control in their lucid state, they barely suppressed them.

Such targets were the Symphony of Hatred's favorite prey.

It could inflict an attack on the weakness of an enemy's mind or body who heard the corresponding melody. Those with unstable minds might experience symptoms akin to madness. Those with psychological issues might have latent problems triggered. There's even a chance that excessive desires could cause them to explode on the spot. Individuals with illnesses or old injuries would inevitably face severe consequences. Those less fortunate might find themselves trapped in extreme misfortune.

Faced with the dream projections—against the gravekeepers who might have fused with them, Lumian felt that the Symphony of Hatred could be miraculously effective, igniting 100% of the targets' excessive desires and emotions!

Therefore, he chose to make such an attempt. If it failed, he would teleport back to the unconscious Amandina and company, hold onto them, and return to Tizamo.

A melodious and sorrowful melody sounded, but "Hisoka" Twanaku, who was too late to stop Lumian, instinctively burned the two curved and mysterious goat horns on his head.

Mental Shock!

Lumian's emotions swelled, and the melody he played was filled with unmistakable pain and hatred.

He also saw many spirits, as well as the gravekeepers wielding broadswords of light, rushing towards him in various ways.

He continued playing the Symphony of Hatred.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Apart from the unconscious Rhea's dream projection, all the gravekeepers, including Hisoka, halted with contorted expressions.

They heard illusory explosions in their bodies and minds, and their eyes instantly turned bloodshot. They lost control of their bodies, and their ears were filled with buzzing sounds.

They couldn't see, hear, or think. Their bodies and souls had been severely injured.

The same went for "Hisoka" Twanaku. In essence, he remained a dream projection formed by extreme emotions and desires.

However, as he suffered the Symphony of Hatred's weakness attack, he also ignited Lumian's emotions and desires from the impact.

Lumian's mind buzzed, and blood vessels bulged in his green eyes. A viscous liquid reeking of blood flowed from his nose, and his internal organs seemed to suffer varying degrees of damage.

The Symphony of Hatred fell to the ground with a thud.

More than a hundred meters away from Lumian, near the forest, the unconscious Amandina, Lugano, and company's faces contorted, as if they were trapped in different nightmares.

Devajo, weakened by spitting out blood to the human skin, silently approached the edge of the forest, ready to escape at any moment. However, he heard the Symphony of Hatred's melody.

He froze, vomiting copious amounts of bright red blood that reeked of sulfur. His entire being weakened, and he nearly lost control.

Iveljsta watched as the evil rag doll emitted a silent shriek, transforming the crystal skull with its golden mask and its invisible "ferry" into a pale-white goat. Just as he was about to approach the silent river in front of the black ancient tomb in delight, his pale-white face instantly flushed red, and dark-red blood flowed from the corners of his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.

He had also suffered the explosion of emotions and desires, but he wasn't a dream projection, nor had he fused with one. Therefore, he was only severely injured, unlike the gravekeepers and Devajo, who were pushed to the brink of death.

Reaza, who had maintained his lucidity and rationality without a dream projection, panted heavily, as if caught in a struggle of his own. His cold eyes became rather lost.

In the area where the black tomb resided, only the evil rag doll, the human skin man, and the pale-white goat with the golden mask remained unaffected by the Symphony of Hatred.

Relying on his Ascetic endurance, Lumian quickly recovered from the severe damage caused by the explosion of desire and emotions.

Gazing at Hisoka and the others, who had yet to recover, he smiled and extended his right palm.

A colossal white-hot fireball swiftly condensed, engulfed in silver-white lightning, and launched.

Upon reaching the gravekeepers' area, it split into nearly 20 smaller lightning fireballs that blasted at "Hisoka" Twanaku and the gravekeepers.

Precision!

Rumble!

Blazing white flames and silver-white lightning surged simultaneously. Lumian watched as the gravekeepers, already on the brink of death, collapsed like straw, their lives extinguished one after another.

This is what Culling means… Lumian closed his eyes and took it in.

Rumble!

Apart from the unconscious Rhea's dream projection and the Guardian struggling to hold on, the gravekeepers were all dead. Only "Hisoka" Twanaku, his body still emitting silver- white lightning, remained.

His eyes were bloodshot, on the verge of losing control.

At that moment, he saw a flaming spear wrapped in silver-

white lightning fly over and collide with the side of his nose.

Amidst a sizzling sound, the blazing white flaming spear pierced through his skull, igniting his brain and flying behind him, leaving behind raging silver-white electric snakes.

As the flames dissipated, Lumian's figure appeared, his back facing "Hisoka" Twanaku.

The Devil-form Hisoka's eyes glazed over. He swayed a few times before collapsing to the ground.

Weakness Investigation!

Cull!

-x-X-x-

As the blazing white flames rapidly dissipated, Lumian turned his back on "Hisoka" Twanaku and fixed his gaze on the Guardian, who was swaying unsteadily more than ten meters away. With a chuckle, he declared, "Before, I needed my team's help to defeat you. But now, I can take you down alone."

His words were aimed squarely at Hisoka.

Collapsing to the ground, Hisoka's consciousness gradually faded as he caught Lumian's remark. He instinctively tried to clench his fists, but lacked the strength to do so.

A desperate gasp escaped his throat, his pupils dilating and losing focus.

Hisoka cursed himself for choosing Devil Transformation over Wraith Transformation when confronting Lumian Lee. If only he had opted for the latter, he could have disrupted Lumian's attempt to play the blackened bone flute with Wraith Shriek. Alas, he had no way of knowing the specifics, only able to sense the presence and source of a malicious intent. Given Lumian Lee's ability to infuse bullets, fireballs, and other attacks with electric shocks and target weaknesses with precision, Devil Transformation had seemed the more versatile choice, offering protection against various contingencies.

As for why he hadn't summoned a barrage of Sulfur Fireballs, even at the cost of mutual destruction—Hisoka sensed the considerable distance separating them. By the time he could conjure and launch ten to twenty fireballs, Lumian Lee would have already finished playing the flute. With teleportation at his disposal, Lumian could effortlessly evade the clustered assault. Moreover, spells like Language of Foulness had a limited range.

Left with no other recourse, "Hisoka" Twanaku could only resort to Emotional Shock and Desire Detonation, targeting Lumian Lee's weakness. He hoped that after both of them sustained grievous injuries, their recovery rates would be comparable, granting him an opportunity to mount a different response.

However, despite the pain, blood loss, and abnormal look in his eyes, Lumian Lee managed to maintain his balance. Fighting through the debilitating effects, he executed a precise area-of-effect bombardment enhanced with electric shocks. The effort inflicted fresh wounds upon himself and temporarily paralyzed him.

"Gasp…"

Hisoka Twanaku mustered his remaining strength to drag Lumian Lee down with him in a final, desperate gambit of losing control. But his life force had reached its limit. Darkness engulfed his vision as his consciousness slipped into oblivion, a maelstrom of indignation, resentment, and agony consuming him.

The colossal Devil's body spasmed a few times before falling still.

Hisoka's last glimmer of hope for revival was extinguished.

He was well and truly dead.

As Lumian spoke, he drew his revolver and trained it on the nearby Guardian.

Disoriented and reeling, the Guardian instinctively condensed a broadsword of light. Dropping to one knee, he plunged it into the ground before him.

The sword merged with the earth, erecting an impenetrable invisible wall.

As a gravekeeper merged with a dream projection, this Guardian had no effective defense against the Symphony of Hatred. His companions, the Spirit Warlocks and Soul Assurers, caught off guard by the attack, couldn't pull him into a dream in time to avoid the melody's direct impact. He could only rely on his own physical and spiritual fortitude to withstand the detonation of desire and emotion.

For Beyonders with dream projections, this assault posed a mortal threat.

Before the gravekeeper could regain his bearings, another incandescent white fireball wreathed in lightning struck him, triggering a violent explosion.

Fortunately, his boon as a Guardian spared him the fate of his companions, who were culled like stalks of wheat. Without it, he would have been unable to mount even a token defense on pure instinct.

Lumian's green eyes took on an iron-black cast as he stood tall and squeezed the trigger.

Bang! Bang!

Twin yellow bullets, trailing blazing white flames and silver lightning, slammed into a single point on the invisible wall.

Rumble!

The already destabilized wall shattered. The Guardian could only watch helplessly as a searing white spear enveloped in lightning hurtled towards him, piercing his chest and sending him flying.

Another Cull, another bout of digestion.

Clinging to the last shreds of consciousness, the Guardian scattered the broadsword of light into countless minuscule fragments.

These luminous shards coalesced into a hurricane that raged in all directions.

Hounded by the storm of light, the blazing white flaming spear soared twenty to thirty meters before finally coming to rest.

As the flames ebbed away, Lumian straightened his posture, clad in a white shirt, black vest, dark trousers, and a golden straw hat.

Behind him, the bright and terrifying Hurricane of Light gradually petered out, thinning the ground. The corpses of the fallen gravekeepers and "Hisoka" Twanaku lay broken and strewn about.

Reeling from the Symphony of Hatred's influence, his injuries abnormally severe, Devajo's gaze flicked from the bodies littering the ground to Lumian, who stood facing him from afar. His already pallid complexion turned even more ashen.

What in the world is happening?

Is he even human?

Devajo, in whom thoughts of vengeance had fleetingly stirred following the blow, swiftly abandoned any such notions. Igniting the sulfurous blood he had spat out with azure flames, he hastily retreated into the forest.

He wanted to escape!

In any case, he could offer no aid to the human skin the archduke had crafted through ritual. Lingering in the vicinity of the black ancient tomb would only expose him to greater peril.

Lumian paid no heed to Devajo's flight. Though weakened, his spirituality remained abundant. Transforming once more into a blazing white flaming spear, he traversed dozens, nearly a hundred meters in a blink, coming to rest beside Lugano, Amandina, and his companions.

The four Beyonders lay unconscious, spared the Symphony of Hatred's melody—the effects were minimal, a mere nightmare, but still wracked them with pain. Their contorted expressions gradually eased as they roused from their comatose state.

Seeing them open their eyes and regain their faculties, Lumian instructed, "Leave this place at once and return to Tizamo. Find somewhere to lay low."

The conflict unfolding before the black ancient tomb was not something Lugano and the others could influence. Lumian himself dared not approach, so he intended to send his four temporary allies to safety.

He had previously consented to Camus and Rhea accompanying him, believing the former's Psychic Piercing and the latter's Lightning Arrows could synergize effectively with his own abilities to counter Hisoka's dream projection, Reaza, and the others. Amandina's power to compel others into dreams was also quite useful. Moreover, following her was the only way to approach the black ancient tomb without falling prey to the invisible figure's attacks. To his surprise, Hisoka had displayed combat prowess far exceeding Padre Cali's. With the area unsealed and devoid of preset traps, not only had Camus, Amandina, and the rest failed to render aid, they had ended up hindering each other and becoming a liability.

Reflecting on his two prior battles—the attempt to capture Hisoka alive and the confrontation with Padre Cali—Lumian grasped a fundamental principle.

At times, there was strength in numbers. But in other situations, solitude was preferable. Facing different foes under varied circumstances demanded adaptability, lest one court disaster by adhering to a fixed approach.

Lumian recalled a maxim Emperor Roselle had once shared, as explained by his sister Aurore:

In warfare, as in the flow of water, there are no constant conditions.

"We can return to Tizamo? Even me?" Lugano couldn't contain his pleasant surprise. Instinctively, he extended his remaining hand, pressing the flickering light against Lumian's wounds.

As a Doctor, Lugano was unable to treat a patient's internal organs directly. He needed to open the cavity and make contact with the injured site. It was akin to performing surgery.

Lumian nodded and replied,"Indeed, but you'll need to remain under Camus and Rhea's supervision."

He planned to linger a while longer, to see if he could aid Iveljsta Eggers, a member of the Church of The Fool's temperance faction.

It was the duty of a Tarot Club's Minor Arcana card holder.

Of course, Lumian had no intention of venturing into the area immediately fronting the black ancient tomb. He might well perish before even realizing what had struck him. His aim was to ascertain whether he could sway Reaza and the others to interact with the corresponding godhood items, or utilize the golden mask upon Hisoka's corpse to some end.

At that moment, Devajo, who had only just arrived in Tizamo that very night, had already vanished back into the forest, retracing his steps.

Mustering his dwindling strength, he started sprinting.

As he ran, Devajo abruptly halted, casting a perplexed gaze towards the path's bend, obscured by the trees.

Beneath the dim, crimson moonlight, a short figure approached.

It was a boy of seven or eight years, garbed in blue pajamas speckled with yellow stars and a matching nightcap. His plump face and the short blond hair peeking out from under the cap were smeared with cream, blood, biscuit crumbs, cake fragments, and sundry other substances. His brown eyes blazed with intense hunger and desire.

In his mouth, a vibrant, cold, and slick viper's tail writhed and shook as he gulped it down, segment by segment.

The boy's cheeks bulged as he chomped vigorously.

In the next instant, he caught sight of Devajo.

A wave of intense, terrifying malice flooded Devajo's mind.

…

Lugano, having secured permission, was on the verge of informing Camus, Rhea, and Amandina of their impending return to Tizamo when a petrified scream rang out from the forest.

They froze in their tracks.

Mere seconds later, a pitch-black monstrosity, towering nearly three meters tall with curved goat horns, came barreling out of the forest. It charged from the direction of Tizamo, making a beeline for the black ancient tomb, panic etched in its every movement.

That man just now? He's a Devil too… A minion of the Nois family's Demon, perhaps? Could the green-eyed figure fashioned from human skin be a manifestation of the Nois family's Demon, projected into the Dream Festival? Lumian's gaze shifted to the shadowed forest at the Devil's back, an ominous feeling washing over him.

He made a snap decision and addressed Lugano, Amandina, and the others.

"Grab hold of me!"

Lugano swiftly returned to Lumian's side, seizing his arm.

Camus, Rhea, and Amandina followed suit, startled but mimicking Lugano's action.

The five of them winked out of existence, reappearing in close proximity to Hisoka's corpse.

The instant Amandina's form finished coalescing, her eyes flew wide.

Voice quavering, she turned to Lumian and said in a deep voice, "T-that figure… it's appeared once more…"

-x-X-x-

Appeared once more? Lumian motioned for Lugano and the others to loosen their hold and inquired of Amandina, "Where is he?"

Amandina's sky-blue eyes locked onto the entrance of the black ancient tomb situated at the terminus of the motionless river.

"He's sitting cross-legged over there."

As the words left her lips, Amandina shut her eyes and turned away. Minuscule protrusions emerged from her previously flawless and supple skin, each on the cusp of rupturing and giving rise to something unknown.

This reaction stemmed from her glimpse of the phantasmal, stagnant river and the ashen-white goat adorned with a golden mask, grappling to traverse the shallow waters.

The pallid goat's limbs, devoid of all fur, were extensively decomposed, exuding a nauseating yellow pus that swiftly encroached upon the remainder of its body.

Under the sway of the Symphony of Hatred, Reaza's wan and frigid countenance surrendered its final vestige of color.

The decay gradually consumed the back of his hand, neck, and cheeks, lending him the appearance of a long-deceased cadaver.

This decelerated the deterioration afflicting the pale goat's body.

Concurrently, the still river conjured by the black ancient tomb grew ever more illusory, its breadth and depth visibly diminishing.

The rag doll, shrouded in a sinister Gothic gown, drifted onward once more, shadowing the retreating river of quietude.

Abruptly, it pivoted to regard the green-eyed man composed of human flesh and blood, who, coincidentally, reciprocated its gaze.

Loathing, enmity, and lunacy erupted from the sinister cloth doll's crimson eyes. Its black Gothic attire, ensnared by baleful vines, ruptured into myriad holes, scattering fabric shreds and leaving it in tatters.

The green-eyed man in the dark gray suit seemed unscathed, yet as he advanced, he imprinted two footsteps saturated with vivid red blood, the aroma of sulfur swiftly dissipating.

One stride, two strides, three strides. Each step emblazoned bright red footprints, while dark fluid seeped from his human skin.

Iveljsta Eggers at last recovered from the onslaught of emotions and cravings unleashed by the Symphony of Hatred. He cast a glance at the tattered evil cloth doll and retrieved an object from his concealed pocket--a palm-sized puppet.

The puppet appeared to have been stitched together by a young child's hand. Its limbs were askew, its legs reaching its posterior, and its visage daubed with red, yellow, and white pigments, evoking the image of a circus clown.

Iveljsta infused the misshapen puppet with his spirituality.

It shimmered into intangibility and vanished from his grasp, materializing within the dark brown eyes of the Eggers family scion before vaulting into the green orbs of the man clad in human skin.

This caused the figure in the dark gray suit to stiffen and decelerate.

Lumian dared not prolong his gaze and hastily averted his eyes.

As Amandina closed her eyes and turned away, the minute protuberances adorning her skin receded.

Intrigued, she stole a glance at the monstrosity, suspected to be a Devil, hurtling towards the green-eyed man, seemingly on the precipice of succumbing to terror. She swiftly surveyed her environment.

Her eyes then fell upon the colossal Devil's incomplete carcass sprawled on the ground and a charred bone flute that had tumbled beneath a palm tree.

"There, there's something over there," she whispered, tugging at Lumian's sleeve.

Could it be a potent artifact discarded by a gravekeeper?

Lumian peered over and murmured to Amandina and the others, "Feign ignorance. Refrain from touching or even nearing it."

He had purposely abandoned the Symphony of Hatred there, deferring its retrieval.

In such circumstances, wielding it anew was far more prone to endangering his allies than exploiting an adversary's vulnerability. As a Reaper, he had no need to employ the Symphony of Hatred to pierce the target.

Thus, he feigned a lack of opportunity to reclaim it, hoping an enemy would attempt to turn it against him.

If a similar scenario unfolded, Lumian and the three godhood items would be the sole survivors capable of weathering the ensuing cataclysm unleashed by the Symphony of Hatred. At that juncture, he would whisk Amandina and her companions away via teleportation. Upon later return, he anticipated discovering the enemies' lifeless husks and acquiring fresh spoils of war.

It was a trap he had laid in passing.

As Devajo, transformed into a colossal Devil, retreated to the proximity of the human-skinned man and drew near the ebbing river of silence, a short silhouette walked out from the forest trail--a boy of seven or eight years old, clad in endearing sleepwear and a nightcap. His yellow hair and countenance were begrimed, besmirched with grease, dregs, and blood.

Catching sight of the boy, Lugano experienced a piercing agony in his absent right hand.

"Man... Man... Man...." He gnashed his teeth in dread.

Observing his abnormal reaction, Camus and the others inquired in astonishment, "What's wrong?"

Tracing Lugano's line of sight, Amandina, Camus, and Rhea spotted the boy.

The former swiveled to Lumian in bewilderment, "Isn't, isn't that your godson? Why is he here? It's very dangerous!"

"No, he's not in danger." Camus recollecting Kolobo's exaggerated reaction upon encountering Louis Berry and his godson. He recalled some of the words of his companion from the Fate pathway and said with a solemn expression, "We should be the ones in danger."

Without waiting for Amandina and Rhea's misgivings, Camus regarded Lumian and knitted his brow.

"What do we do?"

As a godfather, you should have a way to control your godson, right?

Lumian's gaze flitted to Ludwig pursuing the Devil, then to the corpses and Hisoka's Devil form strewn on the ground. He replied with a grin, "It's not a big problem."

There was ample food here to form an effective seal!

As to why Ludwig had trekked to the black ancient tomb, Lumian roughly had an idea.

The man and woman who had freshly arrived in Tizamo tonight and taken lodging at the Brieu Motel were likely minions of the Nois family's Demon. By some means, they maintained lucidity in this special dream. Once the Dream Festival commenced, they left the motel and hastened towards the black ancient tomb.

During this process, they passed the second floor, inducing Ludwig to catch wind of delicacies. He forsook the insipid fare and shadowed them closely, matching the pace of a seven- or eight-year-old child.

At that moment, Ludwig's brown eyes were fixed solely on Devajo, the Devil.

"Why isn't it a big problem?" Amandina wore a look of skepticism.

Lumian smiled and indicated the massive Devil who had fled in proximity to the green-eyed man.

"He's here to hunt down that monster."

"Hunt? Him?" Amandina glanced left and right in confusion.

A seven- or eight-year-old boy in azure star-spangled sleepwear, pursuing a pitch-black Devil almost three meters in height, with curved goat horns and bat wings sprouting from his back? This is indeed a dream, right?

As he neared the green-eyed man formed of human flesh and blood and the black ancient tomb, Devajo sensed a tinge of respite. Yet, his mind remained haunted by visions of his tongue roasting, his brain scooped out by a soup spoon, and his arms and legs gnawed by the boy.

What kind of monster is this? Devajo watched in abnormal fear as the boy strode towards him.

At that juncture, Amandina, who had stolen a glance their way, exclaimed, "That figure is looking at the man in the black robe."

Iveljsta? Lumian peered over but discerned nothing amiss with Iveljsta Eggers.

Amandina averted her gaze, taking a moment to regain her composure before looking again.

She quickly explained, "He's not looking at the man in the black robe. He's looking at the Devil!"

Amandina abruptly halted, withdrawing her gaze and furrowing her brow.

"That figure seems to utter something… I don't know the language, but I understand the meaning."

"What did he say?" Lumian pressed.

Amandina dared not look towards the black tomb. She organized her thoughts and said,

"Basically, it means:

"Everyone in the world knows that crawling insects can spin cocoons. After the cocoon fractures, butterflies take wing.

"A common insect can transform into a fluttering butterfly and alter its form of life. Why?"

Unknowingly, Amandina's voice shifted, as if swayed by some influence.

She paused for a moment before answering the question in a low, cold voice, "Death before rebirth. Ascension into godhood…"

Before Amandina could finish her sentence, Devajo, in his Devil state, stiffened.

He beheld his flesh swiftly decaying, fragments sloughing off to bare ghastly white bones.

Within seconds, the Devil lost consciousness and crumbled into a mound of putrefying flesh and bones.

The remains fused as if alive, intertwining to form a human-

sized cocoon.

It rapidly shattered, and a human-headed avian monster draped in white plumage emerged.

After absorbing all the flesh and blood, the monster expanded significantly, its form undergoing a transformation.

The lower portion of its head rapidly elongated and expanded, as if possessing a body of its own. The flesh at its "waist" melded with the avian body, mantled in pale-yellow feathers.

"Hahaha!" Devajo, with innumerable white feathers sprouting from his eyes, nostrils, visage, and fingertips, erupted into laughter.

He slapped the white-feathered bird body below and soared skyward, as if riding it.

Devajo ascended higher and higher, gradually turning ethereal. Then he spiraled downward and entered the black ancient tomb.

Witnessing this, Lumian glanced once more at the entrance of the black ancient tomb but still could not perceive the unseen figure Amandina had mentioned.

His heart stirred as he took two steps forward and retrieved the peculiar golden mask from Hisoka's corpse.