94 COI

Can you accept such an outcome?

Inside an empty house in Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative, Angoulême de Fran?ois, wearing a lion headdress, stood by the window, gazing down at the gas streetlamps below, patiently waiting.

After losing contact, he and Hidden Blade had switched emergency communication methods. They aimed to quickly re-establish contact, even without Madame Hela's messenger.

Early the previous morning, as soon as he had wrapped up the Moran Avigny case, he immediately tried to locate Hidden Blade.

Finally, Hidden Blade Franca, dressed in her assassin outfit, emerged from the shadows.

Angoulême cut right to it and asked, "Did you take down Moran Avigny?"

"Otherwise?" Franca replied with a smile.

Although Overseer Perle's vortex warning hung over Franca's head like a sharp blade, preventing her from relaxing just because Moran Avigny was dead and she had the intel, Franca wouldn't let it ruin her mood or make her solemn or anxious.

The Major Arcana card holders would naturally worry about something so serious, and she and the others just needed to follow orders and complete the missions. No point fretting.

Plus, the intel they obtained was crucial and valuable. Either the Eternal Blazing Sun Church or the Demoness Sect would definitely be grateful!

Franca was filled with anticipation over this.

"It really was you guys…" Angoulême couldn't help but sigh.

Hidden Blade and her team really acted fast. They had mentioned dealing with a government minister, and not long after, they actually attacked and succeeded.

Franca covered for Lumian, saying, "We were waiting for Moran Avigny to walk into the mirror himself. Surprisingly, the Aurora Order suddenly assassinated him, forcing him into our trap early."

Combined with the scene details, Angoulême slightly nodded and said, "So it was just a coincidence…"

This aligned with what the Purifiers had confirmed.

Angoulême then asked, "So where's Moran Avigny now?"

"Dead," Franca said with a tongue click. "He was definitely a Mirror Person, and gave us lots of important intel."

"What intel?" Angoulême quickly asked.

Franca chuckled and raised her right hand, gently rubbing her thumb and index finger together. "Where's my informant fee?"

Angoulême said in exasperated amusement, "Don't forget I contributed a lot to the Moran Avigny operation. Even if I don't get spoils, it's no problem to hear the intel, right?"

Franca, who always prided herself on fairly "splitting loot," awkwardly cleared her throat.

"Just kidding. Just kidding. But that intel is super important. Your superior will definitely reward you. Don't forget to help me collect my fee!"

"Get to the point," Angoulême replied in a deep voice.

It wasn't that he was stingy about the fee, but Hidden Blade had twice emphasized how crucial the intel was, making him eager.

Franca omitted Tarot Club and Aurora Order details, but started from capturing Jebus to Overseer Perle's painted self appearing and Lumian's theory about the whole situation.

Initially, Angoulême stayed relatively composed. Mirror People problems barely factored into Purifier expectations. But when Moran Avigny was tricked into revealing Roselle Gustav led the Mirror People, Angoulême's head started buzzing louder and louder.

Why do Hidden Blade and the others always get mixed up in such major situations?

How long has it been since the Hostel incident? Why is there another "vortex"?

After Franca finished, Angoulême couldn't help but raise his right hand and pinch his throbbing, headdress-concealed forehead. His emotions were so scrambled he was speechless.

Franca smugly asked, "How's that? Project Vortex, the Mirror People, and intel about a hidden traitor—pretty important stuff, right?"

Noticing Angoulême's grave gaze and slightly moving, teeth-grinding mouth, Franca instinctively added, "Don't blame me! We're not causing these problems, Trier's just uniquely prone to all kinds of chaos. We're victims too!"

Angoulême slowly exhaled and said, "I'll… submit this intel… tonight. I won't forget to pass along my informant's reward request. What do you want?"

At the mention of "tonight," Angoulême's emotions surged and he paused a moment.

He had just finished his workday an hour ago and left Saint Viève Cathedral. Now he had to return!

I'm Agent 007, not some societal slave working from midnight to midnight every damn day! Angoulême inwardly cursed, but still appeared calm, reliable, and emotionally stable.

Franca deeply pondered and said, "All the Pleasure potion ingredients."

She had considered her Affliction potion could be rewarded by the Demoness Sect, but not Jenna's. She could only rely on the authorities.

"Aren't you already at Pleasure?" Angoulême muttered, giving up asking. He nodded, "I'll help get it."

He didn't ask about Hidden Blade's Pleasure potion preparations, just as he didn't ask how she and her crew survived facing a demigod's painted self.

Franca was overjoyed at 007's promise.

Getting Pleasure from the Church and Affliction from the Demoness Sect, surely Madam Judgment would reward me too. I sold this one intel three times… I can now understand Lumian's glee at triple-dipping mission rewards!

Angoulême rubbed his temples and muttered, "There are Cardinals not from the Sun pathway, and way more diocese bishops. I really don't know what we'll uncover next. I just hope the impact isn't too massive."

He meant the April Fool's insider in the Eternal Church. With a clear lead, it wouldn't be hard for that party to be discovered, even if they worked through a Broker.

Without waiting for Franca's reply, Angoulême pondered a moment and said, "The humanoid Sealed Artifact transaction is approved. Let me know the transaction details anytime."

"It's finally approved…" Franca criticized the bureaucracy and curiously asked, "What's the story with that humanoid Artifact?"

She had encountered the humanoid Sealed Artifact during the sea prayer ritual and knew its abnormal power.

Angoulême shook his head. "I'm not cleared for that intel. All I know is she used to be a Sequence 4 Spectator demigod. Later she suddenly went insane, but I don't know if she went mad before an evil god corrupted her, or because of the corruption."

"It was probably the latter," Franca said thoughtfully. "Aren't Spectator Beyonders usually emotionally stable and hard to lose control?"

Angoulême rejected Franca's statement. "From what I know, Spectators normally don't have issues. But when they do, it gets really messy."

"True," Franca thought of I Know Someone.

After chatting a while, Angoulême bid Hidden Blade farewell and left the empty room.

Before leaving, he quickly reviewed the intel, then inwardly sighed with a heavy heart.

Aren't there way too many mystical incidents in Trier?

…

In the market district, Jenna seized a chance to act as a Witch again.

Wearing a black cloak and dark dress, she walked the shadowed street, pondering new acting directions as she looked for an opportunity.

I can't just equate Witches with bad deeds. Sinister, dark acts aren't necessarily bad…

Among the Witch legends I've gathered so far, many focused on Witches using mystical and sinister dark powers to help others fulfill desires, tempting them to stumble…

These legends likely contain remnants of acts by Demonesses posing as Witches. I could try imitating them. Plus, tempting others into depravity is a deeper way for an Instigator. Pleasure's acting also corrupts the target…

Yes, the mystical powers of sinisterness and darkness, tempting depravity and depravity brings calamity…

Jenna's thoughts gradually became more clear.

With these in mind, she turned onto Rue Anarchie, intending to find a chance to act as a Witch on this chaotic street.

After a few steps, Jenna suddenly heard someone singing hysterically, "Trier, a city dressed in gold,

"A ball that endures 'til dawn unfolds;

"Chicken roasted, dripping with oil's grace,

"A castle cake to fill each eager embrace.

"A bow-tied attendant glides 'mongst the guests,

"Merrily dancing with joy and delight.

"My beloved, hidden 'midst the crowd,

"Among them, my love resides,

"In the Capital of Joy, forever Trier!"

This voice… Jenna peered from the shadows at Auberge du Coq Doré and saw Lumian, in a thick brown jacket, sitting on the third floor windowsill, holding a green liquid-filled bottle.

Hadn't he gone to the Aurora Order and never returned? Jenna frowned and stepped out of the shadow.

Lumian noticed her and smiled. He leaped down from the third floor, landing steadily before her.

"Why are you here?" Jenna asked with concern.

Lumian smiled casually. "I suddenly missed this place. Came back for a drink."

Sensing Lumian's strange excitement, Jenna pondered a moment then asked, "Did something happen?"

"No," Lumian denied quickly. He emphasized, "I'm fine."

With an absinthe bottle in hand, he headed towards Rue Anarchie's exit. Jenna trailed closely behind, not inquiring further.

Under the crimson moonlight and scattered gas lamps, the silent Lumian suddenly smiled and announced, "I'm about to start blaspheming. No, it's already begun."

He didn't turn around and kept walking.

"Haven't you been blaspheming all this while?" Jenna cautiously probed with Lumian's usual self-deprecation.

Lumian's gaze stayed fixed ahead as he smiled. "It's different this time."

He quickened his pace and didn't mention it again.

Jenna glanced at Lumian's muddy leather boots and the dirty but dry surroundings. She pursed her lips and didn't press further.

Lumian continued walking, occasionally humming a tune, occasionally chatting with Jenna and joking with a smile.

He made his way back to his rented apartment and entered his room.

Jenna stood quietly in the living room, watching Lumian close the bedroom's wooden door.

In the dark room, lit only by crimson moonlight, Lumian sat at his desk, unfolded a piece of paper, and picked up a fountain pen.

He didn't light the gas wall lamp, nor create a blazing fireball. In the pitch-black, he positioned the pen under the faint light.

Amidst paper rustling, Lumian's smile faded, and his wrist slowed.

Finally, he penned the unusually brief letter: "Honorable Madam Magician, I'd like to meet you."

-x-X-x-

After having the messenger dispatched to deliver the letter, Lumian sat at his desk, gazing at the dark curtains that seeped in the crimson moonlight, patiently awaiting Madam Magician's arrival.

After an indeterminate period of time, a resplendent starlight emerged from the dark room, coalescing into the figure of Magician.

She had changed into a brownish-yellow cotton dress with white trimmings.

"Good evening, Madam Magician," Lumian said with a glance around. "I have something important to discuss."

Magician grasped his meaning and immediately condensed the surrounding darkness into an illusory glass barrier, curling up to block out the infiltration of the crimson moonlight and the sounds from outside.

"What's so important?" Madam Magician inquired once secrecy was ensured.

Lumian conjured a blazing white flame to use as a chandelier. After a few moments of silence, he said, "I've confirmed the origins of the lizard-like elf."

"It's not an evil god from outside the barrier?" Madam Magician wore a thoughtful expression.

Lumian's lips curled into a slight smile. "An evil god in a way, but one not from outside the barrier."

Magician frowned and said, "Give me the details."

Lumian recounted in his deep voice his pact with Penitent Baynfel and the corresponding negative effects. He described seeing the True Creator idol and a lizard-like elf in the secret cathedral of the Aurora Order, as well as the illusory scene suspected to be a divine kingdom.

Madam Magician didn't interrupt him, listening attentively. Then, she let out a long sigh and said, "In fact, I had suspected that the lizard-like elf was related to Him, but whether it was the Spectator pathway's Mythical Creature form or the Hanged Man pathway's Mythical Creature form, they were clearly different from that elf. Nothing similar had manifested in the past five to six years. Additionally, the two experts at decrypting and deciphering dreams were more inclined to believe that the elf came from an evil god outside the barrier. This led me to abandon that guess.

"From the looks of it, that entity had been involved in Cordu's catastrophe for a long time.

"That's the only explanation that's complete. How could He, who's been listening and watching, not notice such a major incident that has been unfolding for so long and involves members of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society? How could He not take advantage of the situation?"

"What does He want?" Lumian's expression subtly contorted.

Magician stared at Lumian for a few seconds before sighing again.

"I can only confirm one goal. That is to create a Beyonder capable of rapid digestion and rapid advancement along the Hunter pathway.

"Think about it. It's been just over half a year since you became a Hunter. You're already a Sequence 5 Beyonder, and your Reaper potion has been greatly digested. Perhaps in two to three months, you can consider breaking through to godhood and advancing to Sequence 4, becoming a demigod.

"On this 'journey,' whether it was the fake Angel status brought about by sealing Termiboros, the obtained boons of the Inevitability pathway, or some tempering and digestion opportunities filled with calculated arrangements, they all contributed significantly to your growth.

"He wants a Red Priest and is pushing for a decisive battle between the Red Priest and the Primordial Demoness.

"I was worried that your advancement might be going too smoothly, but now it seems that a price has already been exacted for what fate bestowed, and a deposit has been paid."

Under the blazing white flames, Lumian spoke in a deep, raspy voice, "I'd rather remain an ordinary person."

Madam Magician shook her head with a complex smile.

"As the apocalypse approaches, with Aurore's background and condition, even if no catastrophe had occurred in Cordu, it's inevitable that you'll encounter one eventually. Have you forgotten the helplessness and pain of being an ordinary person in that catastrophe?"

Lumian clenched his fists involuntarily and lowered his head. "I-I just don't want to obtain power this way."

Madam Magician didn't dwell on the topic and said, "He definitely has ulterior motives. For example, a humanoid Sealed Artifact like you can effectively gather evil god influences around you wherever you go, exposing their schemes in advance and giving us more time to deal with them."

Lumian remained silent and didn't respond.

Madam Magician glanced at him and asked with an obvious sigh, "What's your next move?"

Lumian's body trembled slightly, as if he couldn't suppress his emotions.

Gritting his teeth, he said, "I want to punch Him!"

Upon saying this, Lumian's eyes turned bloodshot.

To be honest, he had never harbored a firm desire to seek revenge on a deity. His original plan was to eliminate the key members of April Fool's and the Sanson family of the Sinners organization. Then, he would work hard to become an Angel and extract most of Termiboros's strength. Then, he would release the weak Angel of Inevitability and kill Him.

He knew that the source of Cordu's catastrophe was actually the entity known as Inevitability. However, due to the vast disparity between them and his natural fear of deities, he had only occasionally cursed and spoken harsh words. He hadn't truly put the other party on his revenge list.

And now, he wanted those damned deities to fall from heaven, like meteors streaking through the night sky!

Madam Magician looked at Lumian with a serious expression and asked, "Do you know what you mean by that?"

"I know," Lumian nodded slowly. "I've been waiting all day before requesting to meet you because I've been questioning myself seriously."

He had questioned himself again and again, sometimes in anger, sometimes in sorrow. When he calmed down a little, he questioned himself again.

Madam Magician regarded him with a familiar pity in her eyes.

This time, Lumian knew clearly what she was pitying.

A human yearning to punch a deity.

Lumian gazed back at the Major Arcana card holder, his gaze unwavering.

After a while, Magician nodded slightly and said, "You're telling me the target because you want me to provide effective advice on your idea and make it a little more feasible?

"Yes, my suggestion is that before Mr. Fool awakens to some extent, endure your impulses and work hard to improve yourself. Only by becoming a demigod can you have a chance to sit at that table of cards—of course, that depends on whether you appear there in the form of cards or chips. Don't be disheartened. It's the same for you, me, and the other demigods. Our will and choices can also play an important role at critical moments. We can also exploit the card players."

Lumian asked in a deep voice, "Will Mr. Fool—will he help me?"

Madam Magician nodded solemnly. "Yes."

Unknowingly, her eyes grew brighter. "Mr. Fool will protect us. All of us are willing to make sacrifices for this world, but we can't be sacrificed."

Lumian suddenly let out a sigh of relief, as if he had lost all strength. He couldn't stand steadily, and his body swayed slightly.

He had been suppressing his emotions with all his might until now.

Madam Magician looked at him and pondered for a moment before saying, "I must remind you that that entity should already be aware of your thoughts. This is because you displayed an abnormality in front of His idol.

"I'm not criticizing you; I'm just stating a fact. In that situation, even Clowns and Spectators would find it difficult to control their emotions and expressions, let alone an Ascetic like you."

"I know…" Lumian replied with difficulty.

Before Madam Magician exposed him, he had harbored a glimmer of hope.

Magician chuckled and said, "That's also a positive thing. The fact that you're still alive suggests that you're still useful to Him and can be used. You haven't repaid the full price that fate has exacted of you. As long as you don't give up on yourself or participate in actions that can disrupt His important plans, He will ignore your hatred. He might even continue to allow you to encounter opportunities and obtain things until you step onto the stage He has decided for you.

"It's frustrating, but that's the reality. In the eyes of an existence like Him, you are currently just a speck of dust. He can reduce you to dust at any time without worrying about your thoughts."

After a long silence, Lumian asked in a slightly hoarse voice, "You mean, before Mr. Fool awakens, I'm to make full use of that entity's arrangements?"

Magician nodded slightly and said, "Using an enemy's resources to strengthen yourself is also a way of seeking revenge. Of course, this requires greater caution and restraint. As I mentioned earlier, a price is always exacted for what fate has bestowed. You have to weigh whether you're willing to pay the corresponding price in the future."

Lumian looked down at the floor illuminated by the incandescent white light and said, "Okay."

He then asked, "When will Mr. Fool begin awakening?"

"No one knows," Madam Magician replied with a smile. "But there's no need to be disheartened by this answer. I foresee that we tarot card holders will play an important role in this matter. Let's work hard together."

"How do we?" Lumian pressed.

Madam Magician pondered for a moment and said, "First, focus on yourself. Then, wait patiently for the right opportunity."

The right opportunity? Lumian couldn't fathom how they, the Minor Arcana card holders, were involved in awakening Mr. Fool. All he could do was cautiously ask, "Madam, did you deliberately place Penitent on the messenger list?"

Without Baynfel's negative influence, he wouldn't have had a chance to see the lizard-like elf in the True Creator's hidden cathedral.

"Yes and no," Madam Magician replied. "I know he has a certain connection to that entity. I believe our collaboration with the Aurora Order is fragile. You were sent as an undercover agent, not a true member. You might encounter certain problems in the future, and there's a chance that he will bring about new possibilities. That's why I placed him on the messenger list to see if fate will allow you to choose him. I never expected this to unveil a very important mystery."

Lumian had long grown accustomed to Madam Magician's cryptic responses. He swiftly filtered through her thoughts.

He spoke in a deep voice, "Madam, I wish to explore Mr. Hanged Man's Blue Avenger soon."

-x-X-x-

Magician concurred tersely. "No problem. I understand the urgency. I'll bring you there once Mr. Hanged Man and I confirm the time."

Lumian fell silent for a moment before saying, "Thank you."

Madam Magician pondered for a moment and reminded him, "But don't be too hasty. Emperor Roselle once said, 'More haste, less speed.'

"It's not just because impatience blinds you and affects your judgment, causing you to make wrong choices in many matters. It's also because consuming the potion to advance has a requirement on your mental state. You should be well aware of this."

"I understand," Lumian said with a sigh.

Madam Magician glanced around and joked, "You were really tense just now. We've been talking this whole time, but you didn't even remember to invite me to sit down.

"Yes, the School of Truth's vortex clearly involves higher-level forces. We'll take over the subsequent investigations. Your primary mission is to locate the relatively important Mirror People according to what Moran Avigny had shared. I suspect that something in the special mirror world is an important part of the vortex.

"This time, you've obtained crucial information. We Major Arcana card holders won't be stingy with the rewards. Of course, it's for your team, not just you. The exact distribution is up to you."

Upon hearing the last sentence, Lumian suddenly fell into a daze. He muttered to himself, "Again…

"Is this also what fate has bestowed?"

"I can't say for sure that's not the case," Madam Magician replied with a self-deprecating smile. "Your psychological and mental state are better than I expected. You haven't reached the point where you need treatment again, but you seem to have suffered from the aftereffects of the trauma known as Fate's Bestowment. Everything you see seems arranged as if by fate's hand."

Without waiting for Lumian's response, she added, "Actually, there's no problem with that. It's good to be vigilant, but don't put too much pressure on yourself. Your mind is like an eraser. If you're too tense, it'll snap. You can be vigilant about details, but you have to relax. Think about it. You can't resist a real arrangement anyway. Why make yourself unable to sleep well, eat well, and become more and more neurotic?"

"Yes." Lumian had to admit that Madam Magician had a point.

Magician expressed satisfaction at Lumian's ability to self-regulate.

"Of course, once you discover any arrangements that are clearly problematic, remember to inform me immediately by reciting the honorific name.

"For the reward this time, I'll include the Sequence 4 potion formula of the Hunter pathway, facilitating your quest for items on the Blue Avenger. As for the rewards for the Two of Cups, Seven of Cups, and Four of Swords, I don't know either. It mainly depends on what Judgment, The Hermit, and the others will offer."

Lumian had no objections to this arrangement. Even if Madam Magician didn't mention it or believed that the information about the vortex and the Mirror People wasn't worth the demigod-level potion formula, he would take the initiative to request that the other party provide it first before making up for the missing contributions.

As Lumian regained his composure, a question crossed his mind.

"Madam, Mr. K of the Aurora Order has already divulged my contributions in front of the True Creator's idol, requesting Him to put me up as a candidate Oracle. When an official Oracle falls into danger, I will become the prime candidate to replace them. When the time comes, will I truly become a certain Mr. of the Aurora Order?

"In addition, Mr. K also promised material rewards in the next few days."

Magician nodded slightly and said, "The Aurora Order's organizational structure is quite peculiar. Although Oracles have a Saint directly above them, most Oracles can directly hear the ravings of that entity and His instructions, giving them strong autonomy. Yes, they still follow the orders of their Saint superiors and report to them on most matters, but there are a few matters that completely bypass their superiors. Recommending a candidate Oracle is one of them.

"An oracle of God can only come from God's revelation."

After a brief sigh, Magician chuckled and said, "As long as there's no major problem with the screening, feel free to accept the material rewards. You've already received enough of fate's bestowments. Any more and there won't be any substantial changes.

"I don't think being an Oracle will happen. The Aurora Order's Oracles have a fixed preaching area. It can't beat letting you run around and trigger various hidden dangers of evil gods. It will help you digest the potion. Uh…"

At this point, Magician's expression gradually turned odd.

Lumian wasn't in a hurry to inquire. He waited for the Major Arcana card holder to take the initiative to explain.

After a few seconds, Magician maintained her expression and hesitantly said, "Perhaps, that person's original arrangement was for you to be a certain Mr. for a while.

"The Hunter pathway's Sequence 4 is known as Iron-blooded Knight. It makes all consumers transform into men. Its ritual requires the formation of a team of at least 30 people. They should be able to comprehend your intentions based on your gaze and actions after long periods of nurturing—as though all of you are nearly one. The higher the team's strength and tacit understanding, the better the effect of the ritual." Think about it. What's the most striking characteristic of the Aurora Order? It's fanaticism.

"After becoming a certain Mr., you will undoubtedly have your own jurisdiction and a large number of subordinates. They are fanatical and will completely follow the orders of a deity's oracle like you. With some training, they can fulfill the requirements of the ritual. What you need to worry about is how to increase their strength and tacit understanding to make the ritual more effective."

Wh— The original plan was for me to become an Oracle after digesting the Reaper potion, allowing me to establish a team to complete the ritual as quickly as possible. How can I carry out this ritual now? Franca and the others are without a problem, but there are too few of them… Lumian couldn't help but frown.

Upon seeing this, Madam Magician chuckled and said, "The Church of Knowledge, well-versed in the Hunter path, offered an alternative."

"Of course, the prerequisite is that you can tame Ludwig. Angels can offset most quantity requirements."

"Angel level?" Lumian finally obtained information about Ludwig's power from Madam Magician.

"Yes." Madam Magician didn't elaborate further.

Taming Ludwig? All I can do now is "bribe" him and give simple commands… Lumian fell deep into thought.

Madam Magician glanced at him and said, "You can wait until you digest the Reaper potion and visit the City of Exiles, Morora, before deciding which method to use to meet the ritual's requirements."

"Right, let's discuss the vortex details through letters."

Lumian nodded and watched as Madam Magician vanished into thin air.

Gazing at the gradually expanding dark border, he closed his eyes and recalled everything he had seen and heard that day.

Unbeknownst to him, he clenched his fists tightly, and blazing white flames surged from his fists, burning fiercely.

Jenna sat in an armchair in the living room, quietly waiting for Lumian to open the door and leave. The sound of gnawing and chewing echoed from the dining room.

Lumian carried the unfinished bottle of absinthe to the balcony, settled into a chair, and took a sip.

Jenna approached him with light footsteps and observed him for a few seconds. "You're in better shape."

"You can tell that too?" Lumian asked nonchalantly without turning his head.

Jenna pulled up a chair and sat down, sneering.

"Your silent and reserved demeanor makes me feel more at ease than your previously excited and talkative demeanor."

Lumian gazed at the night outside the balcony and remained silent for a long time. Jenna didn't ask any questions either.

Suddenly, Lumian spoke in a deep voice, "I saw that lizard-like elf."

Jenna had heard him talk about Cordu and understood what it meant. She said in surprise, "Didn't you go to the Aurora Order to meet Mr. K? Why… Is that lizard-like elf related to the Aurora Order?"

"It stems from the one they believe in," Lumian's voice seemed to emerge from the depths of darkness.

"No wonder…" Jenna suddenly understood Lumian's previous state. "Madam Judgment mentioned that the one the Aurora Order believes in is close to Mr. Fool in power…"

It wasn't something mortals could face directly, let alone exact revenge on!

After a brief silence, Jenna understood and said, "Did you just meet Madam Magician?"

"You've grown quite smart after drinking the Witch potion," Lumian turned to Jenna.

Jenna couldn't help but ask, "Can't Hunters speak nicely?"

She paused for a moment before adding, "What did Madam Magician say?"

"She said to endure it for now and wait for Mr. Fool to wake up before considering what to do next," Lumian replied simply.

Jenna tersely acknowledged, momentarily at a loss for words.

After a moment, she stood up and went to Ludwig's side in the dining room to retrieve a glass from the balcony. She snatched the bottle of absinthe from Lumian's hand and poured a third of it for herself.

Jenna had just taken a sip of the dreamy green liquid when her face instinctively furrowed.

"Heck, why do you people like to drink absinthe? It tastes awful!" As a former Showy Diva, Jenna had drunk plenty of alcohol, but she still couldn't accept the taste of absinthe.

Lumian scoffed but didn't offer an explanation.

Jenna casually chatted, "I once read a book about a writer whose name I can't remember. He said that those who enjoy absinthe either use it to pretend they are experienced or use it to reminisce about their experiences…"

Lumian listened quietly, picked up the bottle, and took another mouthful.

The slightly burning alcohol slid down his throat, leaving behind a familiar bitterness.

-x-X-x-

In the Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative, Apartment 702 on 9 Rue Orosai.

Franca waited a while for Jenna to return.

She sniffed and asked in confusion, "Have you been drinking?"

Didn't Jenna say she was going to the market district to find an opportunity to act as a Witch?

Could it be that she had been deliberately drinking and engaging in sting operations to carry out law enforcement?

Jenna removed her black cloak and said to Franca with a solemn expression, "I ran into Lumian."

"Huh?" Franca was taken aback. "He's in the market district? Didn't he go to the Aurora Order to meet Mr. K? I thought he hadn't returned because he was being tested and preparing to choose a reward…"

Jenna didn't hold back and recounted Lumian's condition and words in almost complete detail.

"Is that so…" Franca's emotions became complicated.

She understood Lumian's current feelings and sympathized with the plight of Muggle Aurore. She still remembered that the Ancient Sun God, suspected to be from the Third Epoch and whom the Aurora Order believed in, had returned in some form. There was a high chance that the Ancient Sun God was an earlier transmigrator, a transmigrator like them!

Transmigrators harming transmigrators… It's the way of the April Fool's group; likewise for the Ancient Sun God… Franca sighed silently and decided to summon Madame Hela's messenger later. She would inform the vice president of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society about the School of Truth's vortex operation and the True Creator's role in the catastrophe at Cordu, and request a gathering of all members soon.

It wasn't that she wanted to publicly warn all members of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society at the gathering about the True Creator and the Ancient Sun God. Certain matters could become catastrophic if people below a certain level knew about them. After all, that entity possessed the ability to know whenever He was mentioned.

Franca hoped to raise the vigilance of Hela and the other organizers of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society before indirectly alerting the other members through them.

Furthermore, Franca found the Overseer of the School of Truth formidable, but that wasn't the most terrifying aspect about her and her accomplices.

Franca's greatest unease stemmed from the Broker's ability and willingness to unite the evil god sects, which had been in disarray, fighting independently and even attacking each other. The Hostel plan was the embryonic form of such a change, and perhaps the vortex incident represented the outcome in a stepped sequence.

Facing the evil god cults that had begun to collaborate, Franca wanted the factions she associated herself with to take action and collaborate as well. To this end, she was willing to share information about the vortex and the Mirror People with Madame Hela, a demigod likely backed by the Evernight Church, free of charge.

She had already written and sought Madam Judgment's opinion on this matter, and her response was affirmative.

"How is he now?" Franca asked with concern, contemplating whether to drink with Lumian until dawn to express her support and comfort him.

"He's fine for now," Jenna replied after a few seconds of contemplation. "Perhaps it's also because the one the Aurora Order believes in is far superior to him. Although the hatred is real, it's very intangible and can't be acted upon for a long time."

She had authority to speak on such matters.

Franca tersely acknowledged her words and contemplated her next move.

At dawn, Franca visited Clarice immediately and reported her encounter to the Demoness of Black. The latter expressed her approval and inquired about Franca's recent needs. Franca didn't stand on ceremony and mentioned her desire for the ingredients for the Affliction potion.

Back then, the Demoness of Black didn't agree or reject her request. She only instructed Franca to visit in two days and to find the Mirror People that Moran Avigny had mentioned as soon as possible. She could provide any assistance Franca needed.

As for the Mirror People that Moran Avigny had mentioned—Griffith, Palia, and Caratanza Tamara—none of them used their real names in reality. They could only rely on their unclear identities to investigate. Franca hoped to obtain official "assistance" through 007, and she also wanted to see if there were any members of the Moses Ascetic Order in the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society. This was one of the reasons why she had requested a full-scale gathering soon.

The only Mirror Person who could be identified was Trier's Deputy Commissioner of Police, Sport. Franca had investigated the situation before dawn and realized that the Mirror Person had vanished. It appeared that the fleeing Overseer had used some method to alert the Mirror People. For example, news of Moran Avigny's accident had quickly spread.

…

After downing the last of the absinthe and saying goodbye to Jenna, Lumian rubbed his temples and headed back to his bedroom.

Under the crimson moonlight pouring through the curtains, he noticed a folded letter on the table.

Madam Magician? Didn't she just leave not too long ago? Lumian frowned and picked up the letter.

It was indeed from Madam Magician, with a few short paragraphs:

"I forgot to mention we ran into Loki while tracking the School of Truth's Overseer.

"His condition has changed significantly. It seems something went wrong during his resurrection after the sea prayer ritual. This led to the owner of Castle Dylan, the former Secret Order leader, being resurrected inside him somehow.

"Zaratul has come back from the dead and become the Celestial Worthy's attendant. Right, but He hasn't fully taken over Loki's body, and Loki hasn't died completely. This has turned them into an unstable, stitched-together monster in mind and soul.

"For now, don't try finding Castle Dylan and expending Loki's remaining resurrection. It's best to avoid any situations where he could track you down."

Zaratul… Franca had said the former Secret Order leader played a major role in Emperor Roselle's rise, but ultimately betrayed the Emperor… The Sauron family's Vermonda Sauron seemed to have gone insane from His and the Emperor's schemes, prompting Him to enter Fourth Epoch Trier alone… Is Loki considered half-dead now? When Zaratul fully controls his body, he should be completely dead. What a shame… Lumian regretted not finishing off Loki's final life himself, but didn't feel too disappointed or indignant.

He had already caused Loki's demise twice, after all!

After burning the letter, Lumian pondered for a moment, then left the bedroom. He sat across from Ludwig, who wore yellow cotton pajamas and a matching nightcap, watching the boy quickly nibble on a cold bone-in steak.

Ludwig stayed unfazed by Lumian's gaze, continuing his feast.

After nearly a minute, Lumian probed, "Are you willing to call me Godfather?"

Ludwig glanced up at him, then lowered his head, scooped up some banana puree, and spooned it into his mouth.

Lumian changed the question. "Are you willing to follow my orders, accept my commands, and build a tacit understanding here?"

This time, Ludwig didn't even look up, his mouth constantly moving.

Lumian silently watched as he slowly took something out of his Traveler's Bag.

It was a mercury eyeball in a glass jar—a Sequence 7 Lucky One Beyonder characteristic of the Monster pathway. It had re-condensed after the Flog boxing gloves shattered.

Ludwig immediately looked up.

Ignoring Ludwig's gaze, Lumian leisurely pulled out the Serial Killer Beyonder characteristic and a few other items, placing them on the dining table in front of him.

Then, he smiled at Ludwig, who wore the yellow cotton nightcap, and said, "Are you willing to call me Godfather?"

Ludwig fell silent for a few seconds before saying in a low voice, "Godfather."

Lumian probed further, "Are you willing to follow my orders, accept my commands, and build a tacit understanding here?"

Without hesitation, Ludwig replied, "I am."

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As he spoke, his eyes were fixed on the pile of items before Lumian.

Sigh… Lumian sighed silently.

He could rely on "food" to control someone, but couldn't rely solely on "food." Otherwise, it'd be so easy for Ludwig to ignore him when there was no "food" around. This likely didn't meet an Iron-blooded Knight's ritual requirements.

Deep in thought, Lumian pointed at the pile and smiled.

"Since you've admitted to being my godson, you can choose one item.

"But there's a condition. You have to answer two or three of my questions."

Ludwig hesitated a moment, then spoke with a stern look, "Okay."

"Which one do you want?" Lumian asked kindly.

Looking around, Ludwig yearned for every item, but was reluctant to abandon any.

Finally overcoming himself, he pointed at the Serial Killer Beyonder characteristic and said, "That one!"

You really want that Beyonder characteristic… Can it be turned into some magical dish or cocktail? Lumian put away the other items and smiled at Ludwig.

"First question:

"What pathway does your Beyonder power belong to? What are its characteristics? What's your rough Sequence level?"

He hoped to gain inspiration for taming the sealed Angel based on Ludwig's Beyonder pathway information.

Ludwig muttered under his breath, "That's three questions."

Lumian pretended not to hear.

Seeing his protests were futile, Ludwig could only pick up some beef and mutton to munch on. He mumbled, "Yes, yes…"

It seemed he couldn't recall the original name, so he had to find another term for it.

"It's the Gourmet pathway."

Lumian wasn't surprised at all. "No wonder you're always acting like you're savoring delicacies and ingredients."

Ludwig added earnestly, "To put it simply, it's a way to get superpowers by being hungry and eating.

"What corresponds to your Sequence 9 is Tramp. You lose everything and are always searching for food, barely surviving."

Could you be the ultimate Tramp embodiment? You'd even lost your mind, only never forgetting to eat… From that description, I can't tell what abilities a Tramp has… But Lumian didn't mock him.

Rather than detail the Tramp Sequence, Ludwig said, "Sequence 8 is Glutton."

-x-X-x-

"Glutton?" Lumian said approvingly, "Quite the image."

Ludwig ignored Lumian's mockery and continued with the brief introduction, "At this Sequence, hunger truly becomes ingrained in our bodies, allowing us to evolve around it."

"What kinds of evolutions are there?" Lumian was concerned that Ludwig would only mention this about Gluttons, just as he had described the Tramp Sequence. Therefore, he took the initiative to inquire.

Ludwig paused for a few seconds to swallow his food.

Then, he stuffed a small piece of lemon cake into his mouth and replied in a muffled manner, "Internal organs that are better suited for digesting food and absorbing energy. Stronger, more powerful teeth, a bite force and appetite that exceed normal limits...

"This will help us obtain different abilities from food more efficiently. We won't have to worry about being affected by the toxins, viruses, and bacteria that food brings."

"In other words, even if it's highly toxic, as long as you consume it with your mouth and treat it as food, you won't die from the poison?" Lumian suddenly felt that Ludwig would make a suitable assistant for Apothecaries.

Ludwig took a sip of milk and shook his head.

"We can't exceed a certain limit. Many Gluttons die from eating random stuff."

And you're not eating random stuff? Lumian scoffed inwardly.

At the same time, he inwardly sighed.

This guy is quite honest. He's indeed like a child most of the time. He actually forgot to protest that I had asked additional questions.

Ludwig set down the milk bottle and picked up a box of cookies.

Amidst the munching sounds, he continued, "The corresponding Sequence 7 is Gourmet.

"At this level, our digestion and eating abilities will improve further. We can discern which ingredients are edible, which are inedible, which ingredients can bring about special effects, and which ingredients need to be combined with others."

Lumian thought seriously before asking, "Is extracting the corresponding information from the consumed food one of a Gourmet's abilities?"

This ability had helped Lumian a great deal.

Ludwig, donning a thick yellow cotton nightcap, nodded obediently. "Yes."

He didn't elaborate on the corresponding abilities.

"Although a Gourmet is useful, I can sense that at this Sequence, you lack sufficient combat strength. Yes, perhaps Tramp will grant you a certain level of street fighting abilities," Lumian commented from his own perspective.

Ludwig didn't argue, nor did he bother to. How could delicacies already in his mouth or subsequent delicacies be less important than what he was talking about?

He peeled a lollipop and placed it in his mouth, a hint of enjoyment on his face.

"Beyond that is what you call Sequence 6—Chef."

"I thought it was Bartender," Lumian teased.

Ludwig pondered seriously and said, "Chefs cover a wider range. It's not like they can only make cocktails."

Lumian nodded pensively.

"Is a Chef's ability to use special ingredients to create mystical dishes, pastries, drinks, and cocktails?"

Ludwig had displayed this ability numerous times.

Ludwig couldn't help but reveal a smug expression.

"That's right. Every Chef has different characteristics and abilities due to the ingredients they've obtained and the food they've prepared.

"Chefs have one thing in common: they have excellent skills in processing ingredients. This includes finding weaknesses and techniques like cutting, chopping, and slicing."

Only at this Sequence would one from the Gourmet pathway truly possess combat strength...

However, a Chef is similar to a Contractee. Their actual combat strength depends on their synergy of abilities. The upper limit is very high, and the lower limit is very low... Lumian, thinking of a Contractee, asked curiously, "Is there a limit to the number of permanent effects a Chef can obtain through various mystical foods?"

As for the negative effects, Lumian, who had eaten Ice Lemon Fish fillet before, had a deep understanding.

Depending on the ingredients and finished products, mystical dishes or cocktails brought different negative effects, but they were significantly weaker than those a Contractee experienced.

"No." Ludwig quickly shook his head. "As long as you fully embrace hunger and greed, there won't be an upper limit."

This upper limit is a little crazy... However, this also means that there's no limit to the number of negative effects. Even if each one is far inferior to the ones brought about by a Contractee, they will undergo a qualitative change after stacking... Lumian pondered for a moment and looked at Ludwig, who had roughly finished his meal.

"That first time we met, when I saw you chowing down on rats, were you just a Glutton or a Gourmet?"

Ludwig didn't try to hide anything.

"Gourmet."

Indeed, he'd been critiquing the dishes I served him.. Lumian pondered for a moment, then said, "Did you recover to Chef status during that Batings Black Insect incident?"

Ludwig curtly confirmed it.

"I was just short to begin with. Eating a Batings Black Insect was all it took to advance."

"What's the next Sequence?" Lumian steered the conversation back on track.

Ludwig dredged up the memories.

"It's Depriver."

"Depriver?" Lumian immediately thought of the Deprivation Bullet he'd gotten from Jebus.

Could this be a transaction from the cult of the Gourmet pathway?

Ludwig thought Lumian wanted him to explain the Depriver's abilities. He recounted, "A Depriver can strip one to three abilities from a target for a period of time. If they then consume part of the target's flesh, they permanently gain one of those abilities, and the target permanently loses it unless they drink a potion again or kill me—no, the corresponding Depriver.

"At Depriver, our recipes get way more range. A ton of formerly inedible things become food.

We can consume things we previously couldn't."

"Give me an example?" Lumian wasn't sure his interpretation matched Ludwig's intentions.

Ludwig looked at him and offered two examples.

"Corruption to a certain degree, as well as fireballs, lightning, and other energy forms."

They can eat way more dangerous stuff and consume things that shouldn't even be considered food... Lumian thought of an enemy he'd faced at the Hostel and something Ludwig just mentioned. He asked for confirmation, "So that ability to process ingredients includes those ingredients too?"

"Yes," Ludwig admitted candidly.

Lumian pulled the matte Deprivation Bullet from his Traveler's Bag and set it on the dining table.

"This is from a Depriver?"

Ludwig's eyes lit up.

"Yes."

He said anxiously, "Can I... can I use it as a prize? I don't want that Beyonder characteristic anymore!"

"I think Beyonder characteristics are way more valuable," Lumian deliberately provoked him.

Ludwig looked sad and said reluctantly, "But I can only choose one.

"I can't actually consume Beyonder characteristics yet. I can only use them as ingredients for now." Is that right... Lumian eyed Ludwig and organized his thoughts.

"How much more do you need to eat to recover to Depriver?"

"The further along I go, the harder it gets. I can't just eat a ton. I need higher quality, higher energy foods." Ludwig pointed at the Deprivation Bullet. "I'd need at least 200 of these bullets to reach Depriver."

Lumian chuckled and whispered devilishly, "What if you ate the Depriver who made this bullet?"

"I could recover immediately!" Ludwig's eyes lit up.

Lumian's smile widened.

"You don't seem to have strong offensive abilities. I can help you get the stuff to capture the corresponding Beyonders, but you gotta listen to me and do what I say before I become a demigod. We need to be totally in sync.

"That's my promise. You gonna hold up your end of the deal?"

Ludwig hesitated a moment before reluctantly nodding.

"Deal."

Phew, stay calm... This is just the start of the "taming," not the end. Long process ahead...

Lumian suppressed his smile and asked curiously, "Who were you following back then?

"No need for the full title. Just call them something like 'the Great Mother."

Ludwig was caught off guard.

His expression shifted a few times before tears streamed down his face. He wailed like a child.

"I-l don't remember!

"I've forgotten. I've forgotten everything!"

Hearing his cries, Lugano emerged from the guest room in a thick coat.

The Doctor immediately noticed Lumian and asked in confusion, "Why is he crying?"

Is this really the terrifying cannibal from the Dream Festival?

Lumian chuckled in response.

"I showed him delicacies but didn't give him any."

"Alright..." Lugano looked between them in confusion before retreating back to his room.

Lugano's brief appearance made Lumian remember an item, and he had a dangerous thought.

He pulled the remains of Omebella's umbilical cord from his Traveler's Bag and "consulted" Ludwig, who'd gradually stopped sobbing.

"What dishes and cocktails could you make with this?"

That umbilical cord left behind by the Great Mother's Child of God was thought to be just an ingredient for charms, mystical items, and Beyonder weapons. But now Lumian figured a Gourmet might see it differently.

Looking at Omebella's umbilical cord remains, Ludwig licked his lips.

"It could make three types of food with different mystical effects.

"One food would completely cure infertility."

"Don't need that," Lumian said in amusement. "What about the other two foods?"

Ludwig said professionally, "One grants potent self-healing abilities, though inferior to a Vampire's.

"And another..."

-x-X-x-

"What else does it do?"

Lumian, seeing Ludwig pause as if he had concerns, pressed for an answer.

Ludwig stared at the piece of umbilical cord in front of Lumian and hesitated before replying, "It could somewhat alter your aura and lineage, making certain creatures without the necessary wisdom perceive you as a divine child of the 'Great Mother."

Lumian's expression grew more solemn.

"So, you're saying it could actually integrate the Child of God's lineage into mine, even if it's almost negligible?"

And this would fool creatures of low intelligence or those acting purely on instinct?

"Yes." Ludwig nodded earnestly. "That bit of lineage won't change anything for you, and only creatures directly created by the 'Great Mother' or those who have received Her boons could sense it."

This doesn't sound very useful, but in special circumstances, it could be incredibly crucial.

Compared to curing infertility or enhancing self-healing, it has more room for imagination...

Lumian weighed his words and asked, "What are the side effects?"

Could it change my gender? After all, the Great Mother's' Child of God, Omebella, seems to have been female.

Ludwig's greedy gaze shifted from the umbilical cord back to Lumian, and he said regretfully, "For someone else, it might cause the 'Great Mother's' Child of God to start developing inside them, but not for you. You just have to worry about the 'Great Mother' setting Her sights on you, really watching you."

Lumian was silent for a good twenty seconds before slowly stowing Omebella's umbilical cord remains back into his Traveler's Bag.

He wasn't in a hurry to have Ludwig use the remains to create food with special effects, planning instead to consult Madam Magician's opinion before deciding.

He was willing to take risks, but he wasn't reckless.

"Can I have it now?" Ludwig looked eagerly at the matte Deprivation Bullet.

"One last question." Lumian smiled again, pulling out another item from his Traveler's Bag.

It was a small glass vial containing ancient bloodstain powder.

This came from Demon Warlock Burman, who was guided by a visitor from Resurrection Island named Harrison. He summoned a spirit named Arden from the depths of death and easily killed it, collecting its blood for a future ritual. Lumian got some of this bloodstain powder from his room.

Previously, Lumian had Franca conduct an investigation using Magic Mirror Divination, confirming that it truly came from the depths of the spirit world but yielded no further insights. Now, he wanted the Gourmet to taste it, to see if he could glean more important information.

He remembered clearly; the people of Resurrection Island claimed they could die and revive repeatedly, never aging, and the secret was in their control over the markings from the depths of death.

This might truly be a way to revive the dead.

"Is it edible?" Lumian maintained his smile as he pushed the glass vial with the ancient bloodstain powder towards Ludwig.

Ludwig carefully examined the powder for a while and then opened the bottle cap, touching it a few times with his fingers.

"Yes," he replied, not too eagerly.

"Then eat half of it." Lumian watched expectantly as Ludwig sprinkled a small amount of the ancient bloodstain powder into his mouth, leaving just a bit behind.

Ludwig chewed and tasted it for a while before starting his "gourmet review': "It has a rich aroma of death and eternal rest, originating from the depths of the spirit world.

"It comes from a man in his thirties, with traits of both the Mystery Pryer and Death pathways, in poor mental state, highly prone to emotional instability..."

Hearing this, Lumian raised an eyebrow.

This sounds like it's describing Demon Warlock Burman himself!

But this bloodstain powder is from the evil spirit Arden killed by Burman, right?

"From Intis's Winter Province?" Lumian confirmed his guess.

"Yes." Ludwig smacked his lips.

He shared other insights drawn from the bloodstain powder, each aligning with the Demon Warlock's situation.

This couldn't possibly mean that Burman summoned himself, killed himself, and then collected his own blood, could it? Lumian felt an eerie thrill.

The ancient bloodstain powder surely wasn't left by Burman due to some other issues, as both Franca and Ludwig had confirmed the blood was closely linked to death and the spirit world. Lumian had fought the Demon Warlock twice, believing him to still be alive at those times.

Using the method taught by Resurrection Island's Harrison, Burman summoned an evil spirit from the depths of death that was himself, er, his own marking?

He killed his own marking in the depths of death and found it very weak?

This is hard to believe...

What exactly does Harrison from Resurrection Island want, and what hidden truths lie behind the islanders' resurrections?

Lumian's thoughts raced, feeling that the mysteries of Resurrection Island were no less profound than the high-level events he had experienced before.

"Can you give it to me now?" Ludwig looked again at the Deprivation Bullet, very eagerly.

He handed back the small glass vial with the remaining bit of ancient bloodstain powder to Lumian.

"Yes." Lumian tossed the Deprivation Bullet to Ludwig.

Ludwig caught it, and stuffed the matte bullet into his mouth.

"Eating it directly?" Lumian asked with a chuckle, "Aren't you going to cook it first? Maybe mix a cocktail?"

Ludwig replied with a muffled voice, "No need for that, I can absorb it directly."

As he spoke, he sucked on the Deprivation Bullet like it was an ice pop, pulling it from his mouth again.

Compared to before, the bullet's matte metal casing had noticeably thinned, the intricate symbols etched into its surface now pitted and marked with teeth impressions.

Ludwig sucked on it three times, then finally, when the inside gunpowder was vaguely visible, he put the bullet in his mouth, chewed it with a crackling sound, and swallowed.

Lumian watched with a grimace, gaining a deeper understanding of the various changes hunger could bring.

After eating the Deprivation Bullet, Ludwig closed his eyes, savoring the taste and longing for more.

Lumian felt a pang of regret for the extraordinary bullet he had obtained from Jebus.

The Weakening Bullet, Deprivation Bullet, and Implosion Bullet had not served their intended purposes, while the Poison Bullet, Putrid Bullet, and Impregnating Bullet had been given to Franca.

"How do you feel?" Lumian inquired.

"Delicious, a familiar taste," Ludwig responded, half-closing his eyes.

After reflecting for a moment, he snapped his eyes open, their gaze sharp and alert.

"G-Godfather, can you quickly find out who made that bullet?"

You little rascal, that's the cult following your deity... But I can't blame you, you're brainless now.. And for an evil god, sacrificing any number of bestowed is worthwhile if it frees an angel from its bonds, returning to an Angel's belly is like returning to the deity's heaven...

Lumian muttered silently to himself, nodded slightly in agreement, and slowly stood up, heading back to his bedroom.

Lying in bed, he stared at the dark ceiling adorned with a chandelier, feeling no trace of sleepiness despite the lingering scent of absinthe.

After staring silently for who knows how long, Lumian chuckled self-deprecatingly, trying to use Cogitation to help himself fall asleep.

He slowly visualized a crossed-out sphere that grew an eye in his mind.

His state settled, and drowsiness began to creep up.

Just then, Lumian was taken aback.

Cogitation was taught by his sister, and the Cogitation pattern was also casually drawn by her...

Lumian laughed softly to himself, his laughter shaking.

Minutes later, he indulged in reminiscing about his life in Cordu, including those interactions in the dream.

Even those, now looking back, carried a certain indescribable warmth.

As his thoughts wandered, Lumian remembered his sister's contracted creature, White Paper.

I wonder what state White Paper is in...

Strictly speaking, Aurore isn't completely dead, so her contract with White Paper should still exist...

Pity, contract creatures aren't messengers, only the contractee can summon them, otherwise, I'd summon White Paper to see its condition...

Using Aurore's words, seeing something left behind makes you think of that person? Or, liking someone so much you even like their pets?

Eh, it's not that I can't summon, since the Termiboros sealed inside me and I are one, Aurore's soul shard must be too, my summoning is as if Aurore is doing it... Thinking this, Lumian abruptly sat up.

In the darkness, he set up an altar and chanted the spell in the appropriate language: "I!

"I summon in my name: "The spirit that wanders about the unfounded, a friendly creature that can be subordinated, the weak ball that can telepathically connect with me..."

As the incantation echoed, the candlelight flickered gently, but nothing happened.

With Spirit Vision active, Lumian didn't see White Paper that had appeared in his dreams.

Sigh... He lay back down, disappointed.

As time ticked by, the sleepless Lumian suddenly became alert, feeling not the slightest fatigue.

It was six in the morning.

Lumian got up silently and began to clean up the altar.

Just then, a "doll" messenger in a light-gold dress emerged from the void, dropping a dark coin pouch and a folded square letter onto the table.

Is this the reward from Miss Magician? One of them is a Traveler's Bag? Lumian perked up, grabbing the dark coin pouch.

The "doll" messenger glanced at him, pinched her nose and said, "Drunkard! Your clothes stink!"

Uh... Lumian, who hadn't bathed or changed clothes last night, cleared his throat awkwardly in embarrassment and thanked her.

After the "doll" messenger left, he continued to check the rewards.

-x-X-x-

That dark coin pouch was indeed a Traveler's Bag, containing three items: One was a sheepskin parchment of a brownish hue, another was a nearly invisible triangular spike, and the last was a mechanically intricate black revolver.

Lumian didn't rush to take out the rewards but instead unfolded the folded square letter.

"Prize Descriptions: "Ironblood Knight potion formula: See for yourself.

"Traveler's Bag: No need for further introduction, right?

'Wintry Blade: A mystical item crafted from the dust of ancient vengeful spirits and residual spirituality.

"Any creature pierced by it, even without a visible wound, will fall into an icy rigidity and uncontrollable thoughts, as if possessed by a Wraith.

"Moreover, as the battle persists, the targets of the Wintry Blade, even without direct contact, will gradually find their thoughts slowing and movements becoming stiff and awkward.

"The downside is that the bearer gradually loses body heat, turning toward a necrotic state.

If this exceeds the necessary time limit, the process becomes irreversible.

"Placing it in the Traveler's Bag effectively avoids the negative effects of carrying it. You only need to ensure the battle doesn't exceed three hours. Of course, as a Sequence 5 of the Hunter pathway, a burning Reaper, you could endure the negative effects for at least four hours without other countermeasures."

Reading this, Lumian immediately thought of the Eggers family's golden mask.

That mask could also turn the wearer into a dead being, providing protection for the spirit and consciousness to remain alive until the mask was removed, allowing the wearer to easily revert to their original state.

While wearing Death's golden mask, could I use the Wintry Blade completely unaffected?

I'm already an undead, so the gradual necrosis doesn't apply... No, wearing that golden mask for too long means real death once removed, resulting in instant death... Lumian found no exploitable loophole and sighed in disappointment.

He continued reading the last part of the letter: "Winter is Coming: This revolver was found at the site of a secret but failed ritual while investigating the Order of All Extinction cult. It was meant to be a collectible firearm, but it became a formidable weapon with a limited number of uses due to corruption during the ritual.

"The bullets it fires carry that corruption, producing two effects: "One ensures the bullet hits its target; even Saints, unless they use special abilities to dodge, will be hit. For beings below demigods, unless they switch with a substitute or the shooter is under an illusion and unable to aim, the shot will hit its intended target, and any substitutes will fail.

"Two, ensures death; even Saints, lacking certain traits and abilities, once hit, will suffer great trauma and gradually die. For beings below demigods, a hit means certain death.

"These two effects cannot coexist; a choice is made for each shot.

"The number of times it can still carry these effects is four. Once used up, Winter is Coming will revert to a normal revolver and begin rusting and deteriorating. However, until then, its normal shots will also spread ailments with each wound, with the type of disease being unpredictable.

"After each use of Winter is Coming, you must seek treatment from an Apothecary or Doctor within the following week, even if no symptoms appear.

"If not treated in time, you will inevitably contract a terminal illness that lower-sequence Apothecaries and Doctors cannot cure due to mystical factors."

This is a weapon that can harm demigods...? After the Overseer Perle's painted self incident, are Miss Magician and her peers consciously providing us with items that can affect demigods, with bearable side effects? Doctor... Lumian half-turned his body, casting his gaze toward the door.

Lugano had already woken up and was preparing Ludwig's first breakfast.

After confirming the rewards, Lumian reached into the Traveler's Bag and pulled out the brownish sheepskin parchment, written on in dark red ink:

"Potion name: Iron-blooded Knight; "Sequence: 4;

"Main ingredient: Magma Giant's core, Stone of Catastrophe; "Supplementary ingredients: 80 milliliters of boiling magma, 20 grams of flora powder corrupted by a Stone of Catastrophe, 20 grams of soil soaked in soldier's blood from a large battlefield, one acorn; "Ritual: Form a team of at least 30 people, cultivate deep comradeship with them, allowing them to grow stronger together with perfect synergy, understanding the leader's intent through eye contact and gestures, nearly as one entity, then have them perform the ritual (the stronger and more cohesive the team, the better the ritual's effect)."

While reading, Lumian felt a strong burning sensation from the dark red inked words and thought he could smell rust and blood.

Phew... Lumian had just finished reading the Iron-blooded Knight potion formula and quickly set it down on the table, feeling as if he was sinking into a hell of flames and blood.

Such a strong mental impact...

Is it because the Sequence 4 potion formula inherently possesses such traits, or because it was written by an Angel, or perhaps a combination of both?

Boiling magma... Does this mean drinking magma directly, and if you don't advance, you die?

Lumian memorized the Iron-blooded Knight potion formula in his mind, occasionally opening the parchment to ensure there were no mistakes.

…

In the morning, at 702 Apartment, 9 Rue Orosai.

Lumian placed the new Traveler's Bag and the two weapons on the coffee table and went into detail about the latter two.

"Only three items?" Franca asked, puzzled.

Lumian chuckled.

"There's also the Iron-blooded Knight Sequence 4 potion formula for the Hunter pathway, but that's meaningless for you."

"Who says so? At Sequence 4, a Demoness can switch to the Hunter pathway!" Franca retorted, her eyes sparkling.

She almost said that before joining the Demoness Sect, her dream was to obtain the Iron-blooded Knight potion formula to turn herself back into a male.

Before Lumian could respond, Franca eagerly pleaded, "May I see it? It's not like you'll lose anything" This way, if I become a Demoness of Affliction and something forces me out of the Demoness Sect, I could consider advancing to Iron-blooded Knight!

"Sure." Lumian replied nonchalantly.

He knew what Franca truly desired.

He then took the brownish parchment out of his Traveler's Bag.

Seeing this, Jenna asked, curious yet hopeful, "May I have a look too?"

This was a potion formula that could unlock the gates of godhood!

"Uh..." Franca turned to Jenna, wanting to stop her but finding no suitable excuse.

Is it really appropriate for a female Demoness to look at the Iron-blooded Knight potion formula?

Lumian didn't help Franca dissuade Jenna, and freely unfolded the brown parchment, placing it on the coffee table surface, and casually cautioned, "For every paragraph, take a look then close your eyes and rest for a few seconds—it has a strong mental impact."

After a while, Franca, Jenna, and Anthony felt as though they had been roasted by a fire all night long, their sweat long since dried.

"It requires at least thirty people... That's a bit difficult," Franca said, empathizing with Lumian's challenge.

Lumian chuckled.

The stronger the team members, the better the effect. And if you have members with godhood in the team, the number required can be significantly reduced."

Franca and Jenna thought of a name simultaneously and said in unison, "Ludwig?"

"I'm trying to teach him." Lumian gave a godfatherly smile.

Franca said no more and turned her attention to the three items: the Wintry Blade, Winter is Coming, and the Traveler's Bag.

She generously smiled and said, "Jenna, Anthony, you pick first. Just don't leave the Traveler's Bag for me—I already have one."

She was worried about lacking a powerful or special effect item. Both the Wintry Blade and Winter is Coming perfectly met her needs—any would do. As an Assassin, her hidden blade was a normal weapon that could rely on Witch powers to attach black flames, while the Cannon Gun was akin to a portable mini-cannon, nothing special.

Anthony immediately looked at Jenna, signaling her to choose first.

This was not out of courtesy—he wanted the Traveler's Bag, and he wanted the other two items as well.

Jenna looked at the Hypnotist, lacking direct attack capability, then at Franca, whose gaze moved back and forth between the Wintry Blade and Winter is Coming. She picked up the ark coin pouch and said with a smile, "I've always wanted a Traveler's Bag."

This wasn't a lie—many Witch spells required casting materials, and some items, even just by carrying them, could have negative effects, which could be barely avoided by placing them in the Traveler's Bag, such as the Beyonder characteristic of the Dream Stealer.

Once Jenna took the Traveler's Bag, Anthony quickly made his decision.

"I'll take Winter is Coming."

Without a Traveler's Bag, carrying the Wintry Blade would be a significant burden.

Franca looked at the nearly transparent triangular spike and smiled broadly.

"I'll see if I can have it made into a hidden blade."

These are all suitable rewards for us. Madam Judgment and company are so thoughtful...

Lumian watched his companions distribute the rewards, nodding thoughtfully.

That evening, back in the rented apartment, he met Madam Magician again.

This Major Arcana card holder spoke bluntly, "Head to the Blue Avenger now."

-x-X-x-

On the dark expanse of the sea, the antiquated Blue Avenger bobbed gently with the undulations of the waves, enveloped by an unending mist.

Lumian once again came face to face with Alger, the Stormbringer.

The bearer of The Hanged Man card stood on deck, his deep blue hair a wild mess, seemingly under constant assault from the sea winds. His attire had changed from his previous sailor's garb to a captain's coat adorned with golden embroidery on a blue background.

"Explore it yourself," Alger said to Lumian, who was standing beside Magician, nodding firmly.

"I don't have any wisdom to impart that would help; if I did, I'd have already uncovered all the secrets of this ghost ship."

These matters had been confirmed by Madam Magician, leaving Lumian without doubts. He

thanked Alger and began walking forward, his steps echoing on the wooden deck.

He triggered the residual aura of the Blood Emperor in his right palm without hesitation, but felt no ominous sensation spill forth.

Instead, his palm felt ice-cold, while deep within was a pain like fire scorching his flesh.

Lumian lifted his right hand and noticed that the faint red scar had brightened slightly, but the skin covering it had turned paler, more deathlike.

I wonder whether the Underworld Daoist's seal would prevent activating the key special characteristics of this ghost ship... Lumian circled the Blue Avenger's cabin with a mix of anxiety and trepidation.

During his exploration, he encountered no attacks from ropes or any other disturbances.

It seems the residual aura of the Blood Emperor still serves some purpose, or else it wouldn't be this tranquil... Lumian muttered to himself as he stepped into the cabin, exploring each room in turn.

The Hanged Man, Alger, did not follow but stayed at the front of the deck, watching from afar.

As Lumian's figure disappeared deeper into the ship, Magician raised her right hand and drew a circle in mid-air with her index finger.

A sprinkle of brilliant starlight emerged, initially forming a transparent crystal orb, then expanding into a circular, dreamlike veil.

On the veil, Lumian's figure appeared, wandering around the captain's cabin, occasionally extending his right palm to touch various objects.

"There should be some findings," Magician stated with a charlatan-like tone.

The Hanged Man nodded slightly, not asking what might be found or what changes it could bring, since even Magician could not divine a certain future, and Ma'am Hermit could only see vague images.

After Mr. Fool's slumber, the Major Arcana card holders had explored the Blue Avenger multiple times but had not unraveled the ghost ship's core secrets or located the treasures left by the Tudor dynasty.

With the Apprentice pathway's speciality, Magician only managed to help The Hanged Man uncover other secrets, unable to reach the deepest level.

Mr. Star's explanation was:

"The Blue Avenger is not only influenced by the Lawyer pathway's Distortion authority but also possesses notable traits of errors, spatial transposition, and grafting.

And this aligned with the actual circumstances of the Tudor dynasty: Under Blood Emperor Alista Tudor, among the five great nobles, Amon was the Marauder, the King of Angels of the Error pathway, later becoming a true god; the ancestor of the Abraham family, Mr. Door, was the King of Angels of the Apprentice pathway; and the ancestor of the Antigonus family was the King of Angels of the Seer pathway. The Jacob and Tamara families had one Angel from the Error pathway and one who had been an Angel of the Apprentice pathway.

They clearly possessed strong abilities to utilize errors, alter positions, and graft spaces.

If not ensuring the preservation of the Blue Avenger and its treasures unharmed and intact, Magician felt she could unravel the ghost ship's deepest secrets, but doing so would reduce the Blue Avenger to irreparable fragments.

Under the watchful eyes of two Major Arcana card holders, Lumian searched every room on the upper deck without triggering any anomalies.

He intermittently came across seven or eight sailors, all instructed by the captain not to interfere with his exploration.

Approaching the stairs leading to the lower decks, Lumian glanced down into the pitch-black abyss below, maintaining the stimulated aura of the Blood Emperor as he descended the creaking stairs.

As he walked, he suddenly detected an unusual scent.

He had been descending for thirty to forty seconds, which under normal circumstances should have brought him to the lower deck's floor.

The distance between the Blue Avenger's upper and lower decks couldn't possibly be so vast that a Reaper couldn't traverse it in dozens of seconds!

To this, Lumian responded not with alarm, but with elation.

An anomaly was exactly what he needed!

Had there been no anomaly, it would have meant the sealed residual aura of the Blood Emperor could no longer function properly!

Lumian exhaled, calming his nerves while maintaining a steady but unhurried pace, continuing the creaky descent into the darkness.

After an indeterminate amount of time, he saw no more wooden steps ahead; his feet now touched cold, black stone slabs radiating a metallic chill.

Have I arrived? Just as this thought flickered through Lumian's mind, his vision was flooded with blazing white light.

He saw a barrage of white-hot flame spears flying densely toward him, obscuring everything above.

It was like facing an army, each soldier hurling a flame spear from their hands.

There was nowhere to hide, no way to dodge.

Instinctively, Lumian was about to swap places with his shadow, hoping to use this rapid ability to survive the initial volley and then seek a chance to teleport away.

But just then, he had an idea—an extremely daring idea.

Lumian's expression took on a tinge of madness as he faced the overwhelming barrage of flame spears, not using any abilities and not even attempting to dodge.

He straightened his back and thrust forward his right palm.

The right palm, sealed by the Underworld Daoist and carrying the residual aura of the Blood Emperor—both were fully activated.

The dense, rain-like barrage of white-hot flame spears instantly froze in mid-air.

They stopped, neither advancing nor falling.

Seeing this, Lumian let out an uncontrollable sigh of relief.

He had made the right bet!

Gradually, the white-hot flame spears began to extinguish, slowly fading until they completely disappeared.

Before Lumian could take a closer look, clusters of bright flames lit up on both sides.

They resembled wall-mounted lamps, piercing the dense darkness and revealing the surroundings.

He found himself in a deep, wide hall that was smaller than he had imagined.

When the white-hot flame spears were hurled at him like a flock of endless crows, it felt as though he stood on an ancient battlefield, vast enough to be measured in kilometers. However, the hall before him was merely the size of the grand prayer hall of the Saint Vive Cathedral.

At a glance, Lumian's gaze froze, and his heart seemed to stop beating.

At the far end of the hall, there stood a colossal throne made of black iron.

The surface of the throne bore patches of red, either from the corrosion of ages or from old bloodstains.

There was a figure on the throne!

This figure was giant-like, draped in a deep red ceremonial robe and wearing an iron-black crown, with its right elbow resting on the armrest, supporting its bowed head.

The flickering blood-red long hair draped down, hiding the figure's face.

Lumian was familiar with this figure; he had seen it at the Samaritan Women's Spring, though the attire was somewhat different now.

It was the figure of Blood Emperor Alista Tudor!

However, this figure lacked the terror, violence, and madness seen at the Samaritan Women's Spring, devoid of the aura of war and destruction, and the tangible oppressiveness and sense of conquest; if it weren't visible, Lumian would have believed there was nothing on the iron throne.

A phantom? Lumian closed his eyes, relying solely on his other senses and intuition to feel.

In this perception, there was nothing above the iron throne marked with red stains.

Lumian's heartbeat gradually normalized, and he reopened his eyes to look at the iron throne.

The figure remained motionless.

Lumian resisted the urge to observe any weaknesses in the figure or to activate the Eye of Calamity. Instead, he shifted his gaze and surveyed the rest of the hall.

Below the nine steps leading up to the iron throne were five mottled stone chairs—two on the left and three on the right.

Why couldn't there be one more, for symmetry? Lumian couldn't help but criticize to himself.

He knew these five stone chairs likely represented the five great nobles of the Tudor dynasty.

These ancient, mottled chairs appeared smashed by someone; some were completely split by cracks, some shattered into countless pieces yet barely holding their original shape, some had broken backrests, some were missing their seats, and others seemed melted by intense flames as if burnt for a long time.

Had there been a battle here? Lumian tried to find corresponding marks on the black stone floor, the giant supporting columns, and the surrounding walls, but found nothing.

No objects either... Weren't there supposed to be treasures from the Tudor dynasty hidden here? Had they been stolen? Hmm, Termiboros had said earlier that if I'm not of high enough level, forcibly exploring the Blue Avenger could lead to the resurrection of Alista Tudor within me... This suggests there should be something here, or some arrangement... Lumian started walking forward again.

All the while, he kept his eyes on the figure on the iron throne, observing every detail.

Suddenly, he saw a pair of eyes, iron-black and cold.

The figure on the iron throne slowly raised its head.