137 COI

'What is this?' Professor could sense the terrifying aura emanating from the vague, gem-like orb, drawing her towards it.

Franca smiled and said, 'This is your reward.

'I didn't mention it beforehand, but once the operation is successful, we would help you each advance one Sequence.'

Professor was stunned for a moment, instinctively looking towards Periodic Table and Prototype, and finding them equally surprised.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Professor said sincerely, 'We don't need a reward. Being free from the forced indoctrination of the Hidden Sage is the best reward for us.'

'Yes.' Periodic Table and Prototype both expressed agreement.

After hearing Professor's words, Lumian suddenly recalled his own thoughts, as well as the sentence Mr. Fool had said at the temporary gathering.

Uniqueness, Grade 0 Sealed Artifacts, or Beyonder characteristics—none of that mattered. The important thing was that the Hidden Sage was dead.

Thinking about it this way, the Hidden Sage's death is not in vain. From a god to a common warlock, there were so many 'volunteers' who had the urge to destroy Him. The masked Lumian couldn't help but smile.

Franca could understand the perspective of Professor and the others, after all, they had a role model right beside them.

She smiled and said, 'You may not want it, but we must give it to you anyway. Otherwise, others will say we are stingy, miserly, and ungenerous. Don't worry, all participants will receive a generous share of the spoils. As a secret organization with over two thousand years of history, the Moses Ascetic Order have accumulated abundant resources.'

Professor was perplexed for two seconds. 'You have destroyed the Moses Ascetic Order?'

We warlocks are also members of the Moses Ascetic Order...

This operation was not only targeting the Hidden Sage, but also wiping out the Moses Ascetic Order?

Franca nodded. 'We have destroyed Avalon, as you all know, that was the headquarters of the Moses Ascetic Order.

'The Moses Ascetic Order's Chairman Torriope perished on the spot. Two of the Ten Pillars, Seids and Ohayes, have died.

Retia fled in defeat, and the remaining Ten Pillars, either betrayed or in hiding. In essence, the Moses Ascetic Order have effectively been annihilated.

'You are no longer members of the Moses Ascetic Order, because the Moses Ascetic Order no longer exists. From now on, you don't need to complete the corresponding tasks, nor report to anyone. The only one who can protect you is yourselves.

'And as I mentioned at the gathering, the apocalypse is likely to come within one or two years.

'So, won't you take this opportunity to advance your Sequences?'

Professor, Periodic Table, and Prototype fell silent—they had all been convinced.

Franca smiled and said, 'The reward of helping the participants advance one Sequence is actually not very fair.

Why should Professor become a demigod, while we are only at Sequence 5, right?

'This is where you, Professor, must take on greater responsibility. If you truly become a Mysticologist and a demigod, you'll need to help Periodic Table and Prototype afterward, providing them with the necessary protection.

'Also, before leaving Trier, if you encounter trouble that you can't resolve on your own, you can recite my honorific name.

As long as I'm not caught up in other accidents, I'll definitely come to your aid.

'My honorific name is:

'The One Who Never Ages, Keeper of Diseases and Plagues, the Demoness Accompanied by Strife and Catastrophe, the Cup Bearing Joy and Pain, the Great Franca Roland.'

Lumian realized that Franca wanted to develop Professor and the others, who had lost the protection of the Moses Ascetic Order, into her own anchors.

Anchors didn't necessarily come only from faith, but also from solid, stable interpersonal relationships, though they couldn't be passed down from generation to generation like faith.

Now, Professor and the others were at a stage where their future was uncertain, no longer having an organization to rely on and provide resources. The Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society's gathering, which was more like a trading platform, was very suitable for Franca to extend an olive branch to them.

Even if Professor and the others later left Trier, Franca could give them self-locating mirrors to communicate remotely, and use them to spread the faith of Saint Franca Roland, the patron saint of the Church of The Fool.

However, Franca was still too self-conscious, considering Professor and the others as friends and fellow transmigrators, without thinking of developing them into believers, let alone recruiting them as archbishops or bishops in the Sick Church...

Lumian did not take the opportunity to introduce his own honorific name.

'Honorific name... Are you already a Sequence 3 patron saint?' Professor and the others had quite extensive knowledge of mysticism.

Isn't this advancement too fast?

Two gatherings ago, Hidden Blade was still a Sequence 5 Demoness!

Previously, when Franca said she had already become a demigod, Professor and the others were more envious and slightly surprised, feeling that it was still somewhat normal.

But now, they had a sense of their understanding being overturned.

Franca concurred succinctly, 'Coincidence combined with the uniqueness of being a transmigrator In fact, Muggle is also Sequence 3 now.'

As she spoke, she glanced at Lumian.

She could probably understand why Lumian didn't take this opportunity to reveal his own honorific name and develop anchors based on interpersonal relationships.

He hoped Muggle would still be Aurore.

Wh— Professor, Periodic Table, and Prototype looked at the silent Muggle standing beside them in amazement.

She is also a Sequence 3 patron saint?

What is wrong with this world?

The hooded, half-masked Lumian chuckled. 'Yes, I'll forgo telling you my honorific name. Anyway, Hidden Blade and I have been staying together recently, so asking her for help is the same as asking me.

'The reason we were able to advance so quickly while remaining normal is because transmigrators have special qualities. Professor, if you can become a Mysticologist, you can try drawing power from the fairy tales, myths, and urban legends you heard before you transmigrated. Some of them should be real.'

Lumian's suggestion would lead to a certain degree of exposure of the secret to transmigration, but as long as Professor became a Mysticologist with the core ability of Mystical Re-enactment, she would eventually discover the issue.

Professor and the others looked at each other with puzzlement, able to sense the discomfort of Hidden Blade and Muggle in not wanting to elaborate.

They then asked Franca, 'Where is the cathedral that you are the patron saint of?'

'It's in the Lavigny Docks area of the square district, the Saint Franca Cathedral of the Church of The Fool,' Franca provided a simple introduction.

Professor had a realization. 'So you are from the Church of The Fool?

'This operation targeting the Hidden Sage was led by the Church of The Fool?'

Franca suddenly looked a bit proud. 'Yes, Mr. Fool himself lent a hand, and the God of Steam and Machinery provided necessary assistance...'

At this point, she smiled and looked at Lumian. 'Muggle assisted from the sidelines.'

Huh? Professor and the others were stunned once again.

A Sequence 3 Saint can participate in divine wars?

Franca quickly added, 'Her task was to serve as bait.'

'...' Professor and the others were speechless for a moment.

'Okay, okay, keep these Beyonder characteristics and corresponding ingredients, potion formulas safe—they've all been sealed. You don't need to rush, adjust your condition first before holding the ritual.' Franca distributed the spoils. 'This is a drop of Mythical Creature blood, to be used in the ritual.'

Finally, she took out a drop of blood, shimmering with brilliant starlight, locked within a dim, spherical orb from her Traveler's Bag.

After celebrating the death of the Hidden Sage with Professor and the others with champagne, Franca and Lumian returned to the luxurious villa, with the former volunteering to pray to Mr. Fool.

He was a fellow countryman!

Franca set up the altar and performed the ritual, fluently reciting the corresponding honorific name. A faint gray fog vaguely emerged before her.

'Esteemed Mr. Fool, I would like to exchange the Mid- and Low-Sequence Beyonder characteristics and mystical items placed before me for a Grade 1 Sealed Artifact. As a Beyonder on the Demoness pathway and a close friend of The Chariot, do you think I am suitable to choose the one corresponding to the Pallbearer?' Franca expressed her intent in one go.

Soon, she heard Mr. Fool's gentle voice. 'There is some risk, but it can be borne.'

In that case, it's better to let it go, it's not an urgent need...

Franca immediately said, 'Esteemed Mr. Fool, I'll exchange for the one corresponding to Arcane Scholar.'

As soon as she finished speaking, she saw all the items she had placed on the altar disappear completely, vanishing into thin air.

Immediately, an object flew out from the enlarged candle flame, landing on the altar.

It was half a mask, the left side.

It was composed of numerous gears, rivets, bearings, springs, and small steel tubes—mechanical parts. The eye position was left empty, covered by a lens that looked like glass or crystal, the overall complexity giving it a strange beauty.

At the same time, Franca received a rush of information:

'Name: Face of the Arcane '0: Originated from the death of an Arcane Scholar in the Fourth Epoch. '1: The exterior is a left-faced mask made of machinery, possessing a living characteristic. '2: After donning this mask, it can emit a beam of light from the eye guard, capable of destroying the structures of most objects, thoroughly disintegrating the target.

'The wearer of this mask will possess extraordinary manufacturing abilities, able to create mystical items, or complex mechanical devices, or combine the two. Remember, the mask is the master when doing these things, not the wearer. It always leaves one or two hilariously terrible negative effects on its own products.

'Wearing this mask can allow one to truly extract environmental information and work backwards to deduce what has happened.

'The mask's wearer can quickly grasp the relevant information when using other mystical items, effectively avoiding negative effects, except for those brought by the mask itself.

'The wearer of the mask can imbue the items they create with souls, giving them a certain degree of vitality. But remember, these are not created out of thin air—they come from fragments of spirits from the spirit world, extracted from the lives around them.

-x-X-x-

"3: Every three minutes, this mask drains life force from its wearer;

"When the mask's life force drops below a certain threshold, it will drain life force from living beings within a five-kilometer radius to replenish itself;

"The rate at which the mask's life force decreases depends on frequency of use. If left unused, it can last up to seven days. If used frequently and unable to replenish life force from the wearer, it can only last 45 minutes;

"The mask possesses living characteristics. Even when in use, it must be closely monitored, otherwise it will attack the wearer and their companions;

"The mask yearns for a complete body. It will entice the wearer and those around them to gradually replace their bodies with mechanical constructs;

"Those enticed by it will not have their life force drained, nor will they be attacked by it.

"4: The method of sealing is to let it sleep, replenishing its life force at regular intervals, with specific timing depending on usage conditions;

"It can be persuaded."

A Sealed Artifact that can be persuaded and possesses living characteristics? After hearing Franca's relay of information, Lumian extended his right hand toward the Face of the Arcane that she was holding.

During this process, he had already activated the residual aura of the Blood Emperor in his palm, along with the Underworld Daoist's seal and that terrifying black pinhole appearing.

On the mechanical mask that only covered the left half of the face, the springs, mainsprings, rivets, gears, and other components suddenly appeared to lose their elasticity, gradually relaxing.

It was like watching a snarling puppy quickly lying down, legs up in the air, exposing its belly.

Lumian stroked it a couple of times with his finger and said with a smile, "It can indeed be persuaded."

At this moment, Ludwig came over, staring eagerly at the Face of the Arcane, and asked, "Can I eat it?"

He wasn't asking if the mechanical mask was edible, but rather if he himself was allowed to eat it.

On the Face of the Arcane, whether springs, mainsprings, gears, or bearings, everything suddenly tightened with a swoosh, making the sound of machinery starting up.

"No." Lumian answered Ludwig's question.

After becoming a Sea Monster, Ludwig seemed able to directly consume Beyonder characteristics and mystical items, then use their corresponding powers through some method.

He wouldn't lose control from this, but it would accumulate madness and appetite.

Disappointed, Ludwig pulled out a lollipop, comforting himself with the sweet treat.

"Being able to be persuaded means it can be reasoned with. Isn't sleeping once a day a normal living habit?" Lumian said with a smile as he withdrew his finger.

"Before long, Anthony should be able to become a Sequence 4 Manipulator. When that time comes, if the child doesn't want to sleep, we can Hypnotize it to sleep. Children who don't sleep will be eaten by Ludwig."

As for the requirement of regularly replenishing life force, Lumian thought it was easily solved-he now had to take Ludwig out to sea for a feast every day.

After confirming that the Face of the Arcane had lulled itself to sleep, Franca handed this Grade 1 Sealed Artifact to Jenna. "You keep it safe. Whoever needs it between us can use it."

Jenna didn't refuse, and while placing the Face of the Arcane into the Traveler's Bag, she thoughtfully said, "I know which pathway Julien should take."

"Which one?" Franca had a vague guess at the answer.

Jenna let out a sigh and explained, "Savant."

She explained earnestly, seemingly trying to convince herself, "The Savant pathway primarily focuses on mastering scientific knowledge, enhancing memory, intelligence, and logical reasoning abilities. Unlike the Mystery Pryer and many other pathways, it doesn't involve high spirituality, seeing things that shouldn't be seen, or hearing voices that shouldn't be heard. It also doesn't attract disasters, making it relatively safe for daily life.

"Moreover, Julien is already a technical worker who loves machinery. With just one or two months of additional knowledge, he should be able to fully digest the potion. The subsequent Archaeologist Sequence is equally straightforward-we can find relatively safe ruins for him to explore, provide him with carefully selected historical artifacts and corresponding documentation to guide his research.

"Given these conditions, plus the approaching apocalypse as a prerequisite, he could become a Sequence 7 Appraiser in a short time. While an Appraiser isn't particularly strong on their own, they can identify mystical items and maximize risk avoidance when using them. At that point, by giving him Sequence 5 Sealed Artifacts, we can provide him with basic self-protection abilities, essentially making him equivalent to a quickly-molded Sequence 5 Beyonder.

"Additionally, among the Mid-to Low-Sequence Beyonder characteristics and potion formulas I obtained from the Moses Ascetic Order this time, the Savant pathway ingredients are the most numerous after the Warlock pathway."

There was no shortage of ingredients and formulas.

"When you think about it, the Savant pathway is indeed the most suitable. It can effectively leverage external power without reckless archaeology, while avoiding too deep an involvement in the mystical world," Franca agreed with Jenna's reasoning.

Lumian then said to Jenna, "You can modify your previous plan now. The key is how to naturally and reasonably get your brother to encounter and choose the Savant pathway."

"Yes," Jenna nodded seriously.

…

Thursday afternoon, Northern Trier Train Station.

Julien, wearing a gray-blue worker's uniform, a flat cap, and carrying a suitcase, stood in the crowded second-class carriage aisle, slowly moving forward amid the whistling arrival announcement.

Standing nearly 1.75 meters tall, with flaxen hair and regular features, his half-year exchange study had greatly boosted his confidence in his technical abilities. His entire demeanor, from temperament to behavior, exuded ambition.

He believed he would soon be valued highly, receive promotions in rank and salary, and before long become the kind of senior worker who could take on apprentices.

Once my salary increases, we can move away from Rue Pasteur to a better neighborhood, and Celia wouldn't need to work part-time anymore-she could focus on studying dramatic performance... Thinking of the bright future, Julien walked with straight posture, each step in his gait firm and steady.

Following the flow of people, Julien exited the steam train and the relatively clean platform, entered the Northern Train Station, and passed through the turnstiles.

He looked around, searching for his sister who had promised to meet him.

As he searched, he noticed many travelers unconsciously gazing toward one corner, reluctant to look away, with some even walking in that direction.

Though curious, Julien didn't go to see what the commotion was about.

Meeting up with Celia was the most important thing right now!

After walking several more steps, he finally spotted the familiar figure.

She was also the person drawing all those gazes.

Julien saw that his sister Celia Bello's flaxen hair had darkened considerably and was tied in a simple bun, Her face wore no makeup yet appeared fresh and clean, like a flower newly washed by rain.

Celia seems to have grown even prettier, more beautiful than Mom's photos when she was young... Julien quickly squeezed through, blocking a man who was trying to chat up his sister.

"Welcome home!" Jenna gave her brother a hug.

Meanwhile, she grumbled inwardly, it's really inconvenient for a Demoness to go out without concealing her appearance. Even with using Lie to adjust my features to look more like before and having suppressed my charm, I still draw attention, though not as drastically...

"Let's go," Julien glanced at the eager men around them and protectively guided his sister quickly out of the Northern Train Station.

Jenna pointed to a double-decker public horse carriage. "This one's already full, let's wait for the next one."

Julien looked around and pointed to the rental carriage lane. "Let's take one of those back. I've saved some money during this time."

He had expected his frugal sister to object and need convincing, but to his surprise, Jenna immediately nodded in agreement.

Julien felt that his sister must have changed quite a bit over these six months.

After settling into the two-wheeled, two-seater rental carriage, Jenna asked with a smile, "How did your studies go? Your letters weren't very detailed about Julien instinctively straightened his back. "I think I'm about at the same level as the master who taught me before."

He went on to explain many technical details, though Jenna couldn't understand them.

Jenna offered some complimentary remarks before changing the subject, "I recently met an outstanding technical expert. She says she's a technical expert-I don't understand much about it, but when she repairs machines, she's really incredible, the kind of incredible that even I can recognize.

"She said when you return, everyone could get together to exchange ideas."

She? Julien relaxed.

With a smile, he said, "Sure, you can arrange a time with her."

He was very confident in his technical skills now.

"Let's go right after you put away your luggage-we'll have dinner together!" Jenna quickly decided, as if her previous words had been leading up to this.

Julien gave his sister a suspicious look, suspecting she was trying to set him up.

However, after their long separation, he didn't want to refuse.

After dropping off his luggage at their rental place on Rue Pasteur, Jenna led Julien to a newly built factory on the south side of Quartier du Jardin Botanique.

Inside the factory, a young woman with short hair and goggles was using a hammer, pliers, and other tools to work on a giant machine, continuously installing rivets, levers, bearings, and other components.

Her movements were fluid and unassuming, but every detail was perfect, not a fraction off, without the slightest error.

As Julien watched, he became transfixed, his previously high confidence gradually crumbling.

Is this even humanly possible?

Even machines manufacturing machines can't achieve this level of precision!

Could this be the blessing of the God of Technology that the Church of Steam preaches about?

When the woman finished her work, Jenna stepped forward and called out with a smile, "Good afternoon, Miss Bella."

Bella's body instinctively trembled slightly, then she turned around and said with a smile.

"Celia, is this your brother?"

"Yes, my brother Julien." Jenna made the introduction.

Julien nodded bewilderedly, his previous confidence completely gone.

-x-X-x-

Bella took off her goggles, revealing a face with soft features and beautiful eyes, unlike the more masculine female mechanical workers in Julien's stereotypical impression.

"I heard you just returned from an exchange study?" Bella asked curiously.

"Yes." Julien no longer had any enthusiasm to share this experience.

"What did you study?" Bella eagerly pointed at the mechanical parts scattered on the factory floor. "Why don't we exchange ideas? Try assembling a machine with the remaining parts? A qualified artisan must have their own judgment and possess sufficient creativity."

Julien instinctively wanted to refuse, clearly knowing there was an unbridgeable gap between himself and this approachable lady.

But at this moment, his sister Jenna encouraged, "Give it a try. This will be your first creation since completing your studies.

"It's okay if there are flaws, Ms. Bella will guide you and help correct any issues."

Guide... Julien's heart suddenly stirred.

He first spoke at length about how ordinary he was and how his skills were barely passing, then walked among the scattered parts, observing and contemplating.

When he picked up the pliers, Bella walked over and nodded slightly. "Your hand position has a small flaw."

She quickly pointed out the problem, correcting the mistakes in Julien's posture from past bad habits.

During the subsequent assembly, Bella occasionally offered similar guidance, and her teaching either led to sudden insights for Julien or made him strangely discover that many things he originally found difficult suddenly became simple.

While teaching, Bella seemed to radiate an indescribable light, no longer just the girl-next-door from before. Every word she spoke gave Julien the feeling that she had absolute confidence.

People who were confident and had the ability to support that confidence were always charismatic, unconsciously inspiring worship.

Gradually, Julien's gaze toward Bella became like a student looking at their most respected teacher, and his behavior began to show signs of imitation.

This was a truly top-tier artisan!

A top-tier artisan that ordinary people rarely got to meet!

Thus, Julien completed his assembly, creating ab machine for precise metal cutting.

He couldn't believe this was his own work, it was the kind that had to be purchased from the Church of Steam factories.

His gaze toward Bella grew even more admiring.

Jenna sincerely praised the machine for a while, then took Julien home to change clothes, arranging to meet Bella at a restaurant near the botanical garden.

The three of them enjoyed a pleasant atmosphere with engaging conversation.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom." Jenna stood up, putting down her napkin.

After watching his sister's figure disappear into the restroom corridor entrance, Julien turned back to see Bella lift her red wine glass, taking a small sip, smiling kindly yet with a hint of superiority.

"You truly have some talent in mechanics."

"No, compared to you, this can't be called talent," Julien responded, embarrassed and somewhat inferior.

Bella put down her wine glass and shook her head.

"I mean it.

"Would you be interested in becoming my apprentice?"

"Apprentice?" Julien was stunned.

Bella nodded gently.

"Yes, like the ancient apprenticeships-following me to learn, growing with my help, and after completing your training, serving me for a period without pay."

Wh- Such a young top-tier artisan would take apprentices? Why would she value me? Julien was y surprised, delighted, yet puzzled. "Am I... am I qualified?"

"I said you truly have some talent." Bella, who appeared like the girl next door, showed some authority when discussing this matter.

"Can an ordinary person like me reach your level?" Julien asked anxiously.

"I can only say there's a good chance, though it ultimately depends on you," Bella said thoughtfully. "If all goes well, you could approach my level within half a year, though not quite reach it. Afterward, you'd serve me without pay for a year and a half."

Julien's mind buzzed, feeling as if this windfall was too big, making him dizzy.

At this moment, Jenna emerged from the restroom corridor.

Julien immediately lowered his voice, "May I have a few days to consider?"

It wasn't that he didn't want this opportunity, but rather that he was suspicious of Ms. Bella's true intentions.

How could such good fortune fall to someone like me?

Could this be some new type of scam? Did Ms. Bella have connections with those islanders?

"Of course." Bella didn't press him.

After enjoying dinner, back at their rental place on Rue Pasteur, Julien casually asked his sister, "Celia, who exactly is Ms. Bella? How is she such a top-tier artisan at such a young age?"

"So she really is an amazing technical expert?" Jenna asked excitedly.

After Julien confirmed this, she recalled, "Ms. Bella often watches performances at the Théâtre de l'Ancienne Cage à Pigeons, she's a believer in the God of Steam and Machinery, and seems to have deep connections with the monks at the Deep Valley Cloister. Her title as technical expert should be certified by the Church of Steam-I can help you inquire if it's true."

Hearing that Ms. Bella was a true god believer and had close ties with the Church of Steam's monastery monks, Julien's doubts gradually dispersed.

Someone like that shouldn't be a con artist!

But we still need to confirm her identity with the Church of Steam clergy...

Julien slowly regained his confidence.

If I could learn Ms. Bella's techniques, even at eighty percent of her level, I could become a technical director sought after by all factories in Trier, and might even hope to open my own factory in the future!

After chatting with his sister until nearly dawn, Julien lay in bed, tossing and turning, too excited to sleep.

His mind was filled with images of Ms. Bella-focused, serious, knowledgeable, technically profound, someone who unconsciously inspired admiration and worship.

…

In the newly built factory south of Quartier du Jardin Botanique.

Bella watched Jenna, dressed as a witch, walk out from the mirror, and said trembling, "Madame, I have said everything as you instructed."

In her mind, this was Death itself, bringing destruction and despair.

She had watched helplessly as many of her companions died one by one, coughing blood everywhere.

Jenna nodded expressionlessly. "He will accept your proposal.

"For the next two years, you'll be responsible for taking him to major cities like Suhit, guiding him to encounter mystical knowledge, becoming a Savant, and helping him digest potions until he advances to Appraiser.

"I will ask the Church of Steam clergy in the corresponding regions to help, making Julien believe you have divine blessing and are trustworthy,

"After two years, if nothing goes wrong with Julien and his development meets expectations, you will regain your freedom-ah, with one prerequisite: you must convert to a true god and complete the corresponding prayers."

Before Bella could respond, Jenna took out a palm- sized doll seemingly stained with dark blood from her Traveler's Bag and said with a slight smile, "If you try to escape or do anything harmful to Julien, I can easily find you with this. Don't worry, I won't kill you-I'll just send you back to the Future."

Hearing the last half of the sentence, Bella's face suddenly turned pale, as if recalling something she never wanted to remember again.

That was worse than nightmares!

She hurriedly responded with extreme humility. "Madame, I will wholeheartedly complete the task you've given me!"

…

A week later, in the apartment that Franca and Jenna had originally rented, which hadn't yet expired.

Julien sat across from the dining table.

He looked at his sister and hesitantly said, "Celia, there's something I want to discuss with you."

"What is it?" Jenna looked puzzled.

Julien chose his words carefully. "Ms. Bella wants me to become her apprentice, like in ancient times."

"Such good fortune? If you can learn some real skills from her, you could become a top technical expert in the future!" Jenna was delighted for her brother, her eyes full of expectation.

"But, but Ms. Bella is going to serve as technical director at a factory run by the Steam cloister in Suhit. If I become her apprentice, I'll have to go with her and stay there for at least two years," Julien said somewhat embarrassedly.

"It's only two years, you're still young. With real skills, you'll have plenty of opportunities to make money-big money-in Trier!" Jenna encouraged her brother.

"But you..." Julien suddenly fell silent.

"I still need to study dramatic performance for another year, then spend a year playing supporting roles at the Théâtre de l'Ancienne Cage à Pigeons-that was agreed upon when I became an acting apprentice, remember?" Jenna comforted and persuaded her brother. "For the next two years, my life will be very regular, nothing requiring help."

Julien made a sound of agreement and suddenly pulled out a stack of bills and coins from his pocket. "Celia, take these. Focus on studying dramatic performance these two years, don't worry about making money."

Jenna looked at her brother for a few seconds, then smiled and accepted the cash. "By the time you return, I might be a famous theater actress."

"And I'll be an outstanding technical expert." Julien suddenly recalled their childhood aspirations, and they shared a smile.

He seemed to have shed a heavy burden.

After Julien left, Franca walked out from the master bedroom, exclaiming joyfully, "How wonderful, no hypnosis needed!"

"Actually, there's not much difference. When I made the decision to hypnotize Julien, this matter was essentially already settled." Jenna smiled self-mockingly.

Franca consoled her, "Whatever the case, this matter has been initially resolved.

"Next, our main tasks are to consolidate the cult's followers, secretly spread the faith, and devise convincing explanations to include you.

"Also, help Anthony prepare for his advancement ceremony, and track down the Order of All Extinction and Zaratul."

Jenna made a sound of agreement and sincerely sighed. "A rare period of peace."

Thus, as Lumian and others remained relatively stable without bringing any catastrophes, time flew by, and several months passed in the blink of an eye.

-x-X-x-

At the Auberge du Coq Doré's basement bar.

Leon, wearing a light blue shirt, walked in, and every patron he passed greeted him warmly from the bottom of their hearts.

Leon sat at the bar and smiled at the owner and bartender, Pavard Neeson. "One La Fée Verte."

Pavard Neeson, who wore a ponytail and had an artistic air about him, asked curiously while pouring the drink, "Why do you always order La Fée Verte?"

"It has sacred meaning for me," Leon said, resting his elbow on the bar counter while surveying the other patrons.

Pavard didn't ask further.

This Monsieur Leon, who looked more like a scholar than a laborer, had become the most respected figure in Rue Anarchie over the past few months.

He arrived in April and gained widespread support in just over three months.

He would help those who were bullied get justice, prepare medicines and treat serious illnesses for free, tell stories to the children of the Rue Anarchie, help willing vagrants, dancers, and streetwalkers find jobs that met their basic needs. He never looked down on the residents here and didn't dress flashily.

And somehow both the market district gangs and police seemed to ignore him.

How could such a person not be beloved?

Leon paid for his drink, took the dreamlike green- colored glass, and took a small sip.

At that moment, he saw a young man in a white shirt and open black vest, holding a beer, jump onto a small round table.

"Everyone, look at me!

"I announce that Madame Fors has published The Great Adventurer 8-two volumes in less than half a year, how incredible!

"And by the way. I'm getting promoted with a raise!

"This will be my last time drinking here for the next two years, can you believe it? I've truly mastered ancient Feysac, the language that only truly civilized people understand!

"What excellent talent! I passed the exam and got assigned overseas-I'm going to take up an important position in Suhit.

"Congratulate me! The Auberge du Coq Doré is about to produce a truly civilized person!"

Leon watched with a smile, enjoying the chaotic yet strangely harmonious atmosphere.

He stayed until 10 pm, when he finally left the bar amid everyone's farewells, went up to the third floor, and entered Room 302.

Someone was already waiting for him there.

It was Lugano, a man with thick eyebrows, large eyes, and a very upright bearing.

"Your Grace, what brings you here?" Leon asked, both surprised and delighted yet somewhat fearful.

Lugano glanced at his subordinate and raised both hands, making an outward pushing gesture. "Disease be gone!"

Leon finally understood and returned the same gesture. "Disease be gone! Praise the great God of Plague, praise the great God of Disease!"

Lugano finally showed a satisfied expression. "How many followers have you developed recently?"

Leon respectfully answered, "Following the revelations and your instructions, I haven't preached directly. Instead, by helping the residents here and utilizing their fear of disease, I've gradually developed a group of willing followers, forming the embryo of a congregation.

"Next, I will share my faith with the followers, speak of the greatness of the two Malady Gods, and of Your Grace's mercy and grace."

Lugano nodded. "Well done.

"I've walked around Rue Anarchie and several nearby streets, hearing about your deeds from many people.

"Remember, you must follow the Church's precepts: first, no public preaching; second, followers are allowed to also believe in the Eternal Blazing Sun or the God of Steam and Machinery or other orthodox gods."

"Yes, Your Grace," Leon bowed his head and sincerely responded.

Lugano took out a small jewelry box Inlaid with silver patterns and what appeared to be an ordinary vanity mirror, saying with a smile, "No need to address me as Your Grace anymore. From today on, you will become the bishop of this area, reporting directly to Her Holiness the Pope and receiving orders from him."

"I…" Leon's eyes lit up, unsure how to react in front of Bishop Lugano.

"You deserve this." Lugano handed the small jewelry box and mirror to Leon, "The mirror is for communicating with Her Holiness The jewelry box contains the Warlock Sequence's potion formula and all ingredients-this is a blessing from the God of Plague and the God of Disease. Once you're ready, you can consume the potion and advance to Warlock."

Thinking of the Beyonder powers and miraculous spells he had witnessed from Bishop Lugano and other bishops, Leon became excited and hastily thrust out his right palm. "Praise the God of Plague, praise the God of Disease!"

Lugano joined in praising the two Malady Gods, then said, "The jewelry box also contains some spell documents that will let you master several spells for treatment and medicine preparation, without needing help from me and other bishops.

"These can be used to treat common illnesses. For truly serious cases, recite the honorific names of the God of Plague or God of Disease."

"Understood." Leon accepted the small jewelry box and mirror.

Thinking about how he would soon become a Sequence 7 Warlock and master true supernatural powers, he trembled with excitement, believing even more devoutly in the two Malady Gods and revering Her Holiness the Pope.

Just over three months ago, he had been a pitiful man who was scammed by islanders, impoverished, desperate about life, and wanting to end his own existence.

After leaving Room 302 of the Auberge du Coq Doré, Lugano returned to his previously rented apartment.

Then, he took out a mirror and placed it solemnly and ceremoniously on the table. "The Lady more ancient than the times, Servant of Calamity, Child of Plague and Disease, Destroyer who walks in Shadows, Guide of all lost lambs in Trier, the great God of Plague, I beseech you, beseech your gaze..." After saying his prayers, Lugano placed the already organized church affairs documents before the mirror on the table. watching them pass through the veil and disappear into the mirror's surface like ripples in water.

Soon, text appeared on the mirror's surface: "Before long, you will become an archbishop, overseeing multiple dioceses."

This message came from the Pope of the Sick Church.

After receiving the reply, Lugano became elated once again.

Although he regretted no longer being a Blessed who could report directly to the great God of Plague Lumian Lee, and could only follow Her Holiness the Pope's instructions, over these past few months, he had not only acquired the acting method but also obtained the Sequence 6 Biologist potion formula and corresponding ingredients from the Planter pathway, and was now already a Sequence 6 Beyonder.

From Her Holiness the Pope's words just now, after accumulating achievements for another year or so, he would have the chance to advance another Sequence, becoming a Druid and an archbishop.

With anticipation, Lugano looked at the mirror and respectfully bowed his head. "Yes, Your Holiness."

…

In the luxurious villa where Lumian and others resided.

Her Holiness the Pope of the Sick Church, Jenna, sat on a long sofa leaning against the great God of Disease Franca Roland, reviewing Lugano's work report.

After discussion, Lumian and Franca decided to let Jenna first be recognized by the Sick Church followers as Pope, which could also obtain anchors and well explain changes in doctrine.

In the future, if Jenna could advance to Sequence 3, they could use the method of both the God of Plague and God of Disease jointly issuing divine edicts to promote the meritorious Pope to a subsidiary god. Her related deeds would naturally become part of the church catechism, and no one would question it.

After that, they would gradually elevate her status.

After hearing Jenna's narration, Franca looked toward Lumian, who was curled up reading on another sofa.

"I think our anchors are sufficient to support our advancement to Sequence 2; besides, we can't preach on a large scale in Trier anyway."

Not preaching publicly but being able to develop some followers was the tacit understanding between Lumian's group and the God of Steam and Machinery Church.

In this aspect, the God of Steam and Machinery was quite accommodating to them.

Previously, during the Holy Day in May, the Church of Steam held a large mass attended by tens of thousands in front of Trier's patriarchal cathedral. The participants' emotions were exceptionally high, becoming very devout and fervent as they were influenced by the mass itself and the surrounding atmosphere during the ritual.

Anthony, as a believer of the God of Steam and Machinery, also attended this mass and secretly consumed the potion amid the emotional resonance of tens of thousands, becoming a Sequence 4 Manipulator.

This was using the Church of Steam's grand mass to simplify the ritual's execution.

Other Spectators didn't do this because it would be considered blasphemy and would be noticed by the corresponding true god due to the influence of the mass ritual and fervent emotions, bringing down terrible divine punishment.

But the God of Steam and Machinery allowed Anthony to do this.

Lumian and Anthony had prayed at the Church of Steam's patriarchal cathedral in Trier beforehand and received a permissive revelation,

Lumian put down his book and said with a smile, "The current problem is that we cannot obtain the Beyonder characteristics of either Weather Warlock or Demoness of Catastrophe."

According to information Franca gathered from within the Demoness Sect, they could confirm that the Demoness Sect possessed at least five Demoness of Catastrophe Beyonder characteristics-four Angels (Gray, Yellow, Blue, Purple) and one Grade 0 Sealed Artifact.

Lumian's group had further learned that if a pathway had three Sequence 1 Angels, the corresponding Sequence 2 Angels could only number six to eight, with the specific amount varying by pathway.

In other words, with the existence of the true god-the Primordial Demoness-there were only one to three Demoness of Catastrophe Beyonder characteristics outside the Demoness Sect, all currently unaccounted for, at least not among the Church of The Fool's allied forces.

Similarly, the distribution of Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristics was: the Einhorn family had two Sequence 2 Angels, the Sauron family had one Sequence 2 Angel, the Intis military had one Sequence 2 Angel (this seemed to come from the outflow of Beyonder characteristics after the Sauron family's decline), the Iron and Blood Cross Order had at least one Sequence 2 Angel, and there was one corresponding Beyonder characteristic in the Blue Avenger vault.

In other words, at most two Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristics remained unaccounted for, perhaps none at all, and Lumian currently had no leads.

Before Franca and Jenna could respond, Lumian thoughtfully said, "I plan to make a trip to Bansy Harbor soon."

-x-X-x-

At Bansy Harbor, by the Sonia Sea.

After Lumian, Franca, and Jenna arrived, they saw endless ruins.

Every building here had collapsed, with many blackened marks. Wild animals now inhabited the area, occasionally letting out 'caw caw' calls of crows.

Lumian had heard from Madam Magician about Bansy Harbor's destruction, but this was his first time actually coming here.

'From the information gathered, this used to be the territory of the Medici family, who believed in the God of Weather. There's a chance that the Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic could be found here, but they were likely taken by that Red Angel,' Franca said as she looked around.

Staring at the ruins of Bansy before him, Lumian felt like he was back in the disaster-stricken Cordu.

He stood there dazed for a few seconds before speaking, 'This is one purpose—to search around won't cost us much.

'The other purpose is to find that special location Madam Magician mentioned, use the corpse wax candle, and complete the ritual contract.'

Chuckling, Lumian continued, 'Since the Celestial Master was able to use Professor and company as a medium to locate the Hidden Sage and help Mr. Fool lock onto the target, the Blood Emperor ritual contract should also be able to find where the remaining Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic is. As someone who is barely counted as His Blessed, is it too much to ask Him for this small favor?'

'In theory, it's possible, but it's too dangerous. It would be better to accumulate contributions and seek revelations from Mr. Fool. He is the greatest existence at the top of the Seer pathway, and should be able to divine clues about the remaining Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic.' Franca was not too fond of Lumian taking unnecessary risks.

Though this is his style—one just can't avoid being defiled from constantly touching pitch. He should try to control the number of risky ventures.

Jenna nodded in agreement with Franca's words. 'You think I haven't sought revelations from Mr. Fool? Guess what his revelation was?' Lumian smiled. 'Bansy!'

'Alright then,' Franca grumbled.

'You two help me guard against any accidents,' Lumian said, placing his hand on his chest and bowing his head to pray to Mr. Fool.

After the prayer, he activated the remnant aura of the Blood Emperor, the Underworld Daoist seal, and the dark pinhole in his right palm. Guided solely by his spiritual intuition, he began to delve deeper into the ruins.

Franca and Jenna followed several tens of meters behind him, one on each side.

They had walked for nearly a quarter of an hour when Lumian stopped in front of a collapsed building.

The walls of the building were shattered, and only a few charred wooden pieces remained of the entrance. On the ground, which was scorched as if by lightning, were two vivid blood-red human silhouettes.

In the corner next to these two shadows was a simple drawing depicting a tentacled monster.

'According to the intel provided by Mr. Hanged Man, this was the Bansy Harbor telegraph office…

'So it's here after all…'

Muttering, Lumian walked up to the two blood-colored human imprints and took out a pale yellow-red semi-solidified candle in a glass jar.

He then placed the corpse wax candle on the piled-up collapsed walls and ignited it using friction of his spirituality.

Seeing this, Jenna and Franca stopped in their tracks, not advancing further.

They were worried that they too would be affected by the candle's scent and be passively drawn into the ritual contract, unable to monitor the situation.

Lumian sat down cross-legged and began Cogitation.

The sweet-scented incense diffused in the stillness, gradually penetrating his nostrils, causing his bones to itch and his blood vessels to swell. Suddenly, a veil of dark mist appeared before his eyes.

Unlike previous contract rituals, Lumian's drifting soul was immediately seized by an invisible force and yanked into the depths of the mist the next moment.

Spinning, turning.

Lumian quickly regained his wits and found himself standing in a spacious, bright house, with rows of seats on both sides, occupied by several people who seemed to be waiting.

Some of these people were dressed normally, while others had very strange attire. Lumian had not yet had a chance to examine them closely when a shout rang out beside him, 'Ill-hap, make way!'

Lumian did not understand, and turned around with a bewildered look, facing a man who had just entered through the door.

The man was wearing a white shirt, a black vest, and a top hat—a look that matched the 'Eastern' style Franca had described. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand.

Lumian stepped aside to let the man pass, watching him run towards the front of the hall without looking back.

Tap, tap, tap—the sound of telegraphing echoed from that direction.

Lumian then realized this was a telegraph office, and the people were waiting for responses.

Many of the waiting individuals had already turned their gaze towards him.

Lumian pulled up his hood to obscure his face.

Compared to a Demoness's allure, wearing strange clothes was not a big problem.

Outside the telegraph office, the scene suddenly became lively.

There were multi-story buildings of various styles, wide streets, and occasionally black automobiles and the yellow rickshaws Franca had mentioned passing by. Among the bustling people, some wore shirts, suits, and hats, others wore long robes and skullcaps, some in white shirts and black gowns with baggy pants and high-top cloth shoes, their waists bulging as if they were hiding pistols, and some with their heads wrapped in red cloth and holding short batons, while others wore lace-trimmed and ruffled long dresses, or close-fitting skirts with slits on the sides…

Lumian suddenly felt this was as prosperous as Trier.

Ding-ding.

The clear sound echoed as a two-car tram, supported by overhead tracks, raced by.

This scene was very familiar to Lumian—he already knew this was called a trolley.

However, unlike what he had seen before, the passengers on the trolley were all quite normal, their attire indistinguishable from the pedestrians on the streets, and none of them had just a head, dragging a bloody, bony spine.

The location I've entered is different from the previous street?

Or maybe that street was originally hidden and requires special methods to see or enter?

My various special attributes, combined with the issues in Bansy, have brought me more directly to this metropolis? Lumian muttered as he looked around.

Even among the people being pulled in rickshaws, there were no ladies with pus-filled, bruised faces concealing them with fans.

Aside from not understanding the language around him and the scarcity of people who resembled his own appearance, Lumian didn't see any problems with the bustling city before him.

In terms of the effects of the ritual contract, this could be considered a failure, as he had gained nothing and not touched upon any mysteries.

After contemplating for a while, with a feeling of being thrown into a foreign land without a good translator, Lumian followed the guidance of his own spirituality and gradually moved away from the prosperous downtown, entering narrower alleys.

The architectural styles on both sides became more peculiar—stone doorframes, thick black wooden doors, and tall walls with deep courtyards.

Lumian tried extending his right hand to touch a wooden utility pole, only to see his palm pass through it.

Am I in a Soul Body state now? No, it should be a pure spiritual and mental state, but I can still be seen by the people around me… Lumian analyzed as he continued walking, navigating through the tangled wires, laundry lines, and haphazardly piled debris, until he reached an area with many residences.

The first thing that caught his eye was a strangely shaped wooden tower.

It was very similar to the fog core he had seen in previous ritual contracts, but in the sunlight, the wooden tower had lost its indescribable sense of terror and gloom.

In front of the brown tower were large houses and green trees, all enclosed by a yellow wall, preventing anyone from scaling it.

The open wooden double doors at the main entrance saw a constant flow of people going in and out, all appearing to be ordinary citizens.

Is this what Franca called a temple? Lumian pondered for a moment, then followed the crowd into the area enclosed by the yellow wall.

He pretended to be sightseeing as he gradually approached the wooden tower.

Along the way, he noticed that the 'monks' of this temple were divided into several categories, with vastly different attire, and they did not seem to interact much with each other.

The two most numerous groups were: one wearing blue robes and tall hats, resembling the Celestial Master style, and the other with shaved heads, wearing either dull gray robes or yellow inner robes with red outer garments.

When Lumian reached a point near the wooden tower, two types of 'monks' blocked his path in succession.

Although he did not understand what the 'monks' were saying, he got the message: 'Stop!'

Lumian did not argue, and turned back towards the building he had just passed.

During this process, he discreetly observed the environment, noticing that many 'monks' were dispersed along the path leading to the wooden tower, some openly, some secretly, showing signs of using Beyonder powers.

They are guarding the wooden tower, not allowing outsiders to enter? As Lumian made this judgment, he abandoned the idea of trying to teleport there or use the mirror world.

If the wooden tower was indeed the core location indicated by the ritual contract, the guards would be prepared against such methods!

Thinking about how he had previously entered the tower through a mental contract, Lumian found a hidden spot and tried to replicate that state.

As soon as he completed the Cogitation, he suddenly levitated, floating towards the wooden tower through the suddenly spreading dark mist, without any obstruction.

Soon, Lumian reached his destination, but was blocked by an invisible force, only able to descend downwards, preparing to enter through the door.

The floating sensation quickly faded, and the enveloping dark mist dissipated.

This time, Lumian clearly saw the situation at the wooden tower's entrance.

There stood a weathered stone stele.

Lumian could not decipher the text on the stele, but he understood its meaning as if through spiritual communication.

The inscription read: 'Gathered the world's might, halved the ranks of the brave, binding the malevolent dragon here, quelling the calamity it gave.

'Erected by the Fifth Celestial Master.'

-x-X-x-

Binding the malevolent dragon here... Erected by the Fifth Celestial Master... Lumian recalled what he had seen in the previous ritual contract, vaguely understanding something.

He did not stop there, passing by the weathered stone stele and entering the wooden tower.

The tower had no gas lamps or lit candles, relying only on the dim sunlight filtering through the thin paper windows to provide some illumination.

This did not hinder Lumian's examination of the surroundings. He found the first floor of the tower to be unusually spacious, with towering and intersecting beams and columns, and a stone staircase leading down to the lower area.

Familiar with the situation, Lumian confidently approached the staircase, seemingly shrouded in shadow.

After a few steps, he suddenly looked up towards the side, and in the exceptionally dark environment, he saw a young man in dark clothing crouching quietly on a round wooden crossbeam.

The man had a thin face, a slightly broader forehead, and reasonably good features overall. His black eyes were bright and lively, his figure seemingly merged with the darkness.

As Lumian was looking up, their gazes met, and his hood lost its concealing effect.

The man immediately muttered something Lumian did not understand, with a disdainful expression, and scurried up the higher floors, disappearing from sight.

Another outsider? He was able to bypass the "monks" and infiltrate this strange wooden tower? Although he did not use any Beyonder powers just now, his capabilities are still impressive... Lumian, with his Night Vision, was not hindered by the darkness above and tried to track-down the man, but could not find any trace of him.

Vaguely feeling that the other person was still observing him, Lumian smiled brightly up at the ceiling.

Charm!

A charm directed at all present beings!

With a thud, the young man suddenly fell from somewhere, crashing onto a horizontal beam.

He cursed in a language Lumian did not understand and scurried up the tower like a lizard, completely escaping the lower floors, as if avoiding a snake or scorpion.

Lumian did not understand his cursing, but felt it sounded similar to the phrase he had heard shouted at him in the telegraph office: "Damn it!"

Confirming that the young man was no longer watching him, Lumian descended the gray stone steps, disappearing into the shadowed stairwell.

After an unknown period, he finally reached the very bottom of the wooden tower, seeing the ancient well hidden in the darkness, the moss-covered stone blocks, and the iron chains extending from the blocks into the depths of the well.

Numerous bas-reliefs were carved onto these chains, depicting countless grotesque and distorted faces, like evil spirits.

It's similar to Chen Tu's armor... Was the Underworld Daoist also involved in this 'binding the malevolent dragon' matter? Or his teacher, his teacher's teacher? Lumian already knew that the Celestial Master corresponded to the Mystery Pryer and Savant pathways, and these dark iron chains did not seem to be His handiwork.

Peeking out, Lumian's gaze descended to the bottom of the well, seeing a surface of what appeared to be the combined blood of thousands upon thousands of people.

The liquid was thick, bizarre, and emanated a strong stench of blood and rust.

Instinctively, Lumian raised his right hand to his nose, but found that he was not bleeding as he had during the previous ritual, and his condition was even quite good.

Is it because I have already accepted the boon of Calamity, and obtained the power of the War Bishop, so I'm essentially one of them? Lumian thought, looking at the dense bloody water that did not reflect his head or face, and spoke in ancient Hermes, "Oh, mighty and great existence at the pinnacle of calamity, your humble Blessed wishes to ask where I can obtain a Beyonder characteristic that can help me advance further."

Lumian had always been thick-skinned, so these words came easily to him.

However, he was not sure if the so-called "malevolent dragon" locked at the bottom of the well would be able to understand his speech.

To facilitate the other's understanding, he did not even use terms like Weather Warlock, Sequence 2, or Mythical Creature.

The people of the Western Continent probably hadn't seen the Blasphemy Slate!

After a brief, indescribable silence, the surface of the blood-colored water revealed a scene.

It was a rotting, pus-oozing arm in broken armor, propping itself up on the ground, higher than the crumbled stone pillars. Pus continuously dripped from the cracks, mixed with invisible flames that ignited the ground, the air, and everything around, burning endlessly.

Lumian hastily retreated a few steps, not daring to look directly.

The residual aura of the Blood Emperor in his palm told him that the scene corresponded to the fallen divine corpse of Alista Tudor in the depths of Fourth Epoch Trier.

Is there a Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic there? Lumian nodded slightly, returning to the edge of the well and looking at the dense blood water.

The surface of the blood had changed-it was now filled with darkness, and a tall, silent figure seemed to be observing Lumian from within.

Relying on his spiritual intuition, Lumian deduced that this was the mirrored Blood Emperor on the Blue Avenger's vault.

Can I not obtain the Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic without avoiding Alista Tudor? Wouldn't getting it from the Iron and Blood Cross Order's president be fine? Lumian had just furrowed his brow when a tremendous suction force suddenly emanated from the bottom of the well.

Lumian was unable to resist, as this was both the instinctive pull of a high-level Beyonder characteristic and the boon he had received, given his current pure spiritual or mental state.

He was dragged and fell into the well, sinking deeper.

In the blink of an eye, as he tried to activate the black mark on his right shoulder to teleport away, his body touched the surface of the dense bloody liquid.

He passed through it without creating the slightest ripple, just as a High-Sequence Demoness would enter the mirror world.

Lumian suddenly realized.

Water surfaces are also mirrors...

I'm not entering the place where the malevolent dragon is bound, but the corresponding mirror world.

His vision darkened, then turned red, and his entire being was completely submerged in the bloody water.

The stench of blood and rust permeated his nostrils, trying to fill his lungs and body,

Lumian did not feel any pain, but rather a sense of comfort, as if he had returned to his source, to the homeland he had longed for.

This sea of blood seemed to have no surface, and no matter how he tried to float up, he could not escape it or breathe fresh air.

He saw countless corpses drifting past him, some headless, some with only a head dragging a bony. spine-like tail.

Lumian followed these bodies, wanting to see where they would drift.

Floating along with the corpses, he moved with the flow of the dark blood current.

The headless bodies and those heads with their dangling spines became increasingly dense, gradually forming a blockage.

It was as if there was an exit nearby, but the influx of corpses had clogged it.

Lumian chose to bypass the congested area and approach the "destination" from the side.

While he could not squeeze through, he just wanted to see what the situation was up ahead.

After swimming for a while, Lumian finally saw the target location a dark, gaping hole blocked by thousands of corpses, with an endless "school of fish" surging behind.

The bodies jammed in the hole were already bloated, with patches of blackish-blue decay on their surfaces.

Lumian immediately associated this with the lady riding the rickshaw, using a fan to cover her pus-filled, bruised face.

Did she escape from here? Or is she the controller of these corpses? Lumian shook his head, doubting he had any chance of squeezing through the blocked hole.

There were simply too many bodies jammed there, and he did not know what changes burning them down might bring-it would most likely make the situation worse.

At that moment, the blocked hole shook violently, as if someone on the other side was trying to break through the tunnel.

Splash!

A large number of the corpses blocking the hole were suddenly "swallowed" in, allowing those behind them to finally approach.

This also caused some of the dark, lightless water to ripple outwards.

Affected by the disturbance, Lumian was pushed away, and the blood-red scene before him quickly faded into an illusion.

In the illusion, he saw a huge, coiled black shadow.

The shadow was lying at the bottom of the sea of blood, occupying an area comparable to the size of Trier.

Lumian was drawn towards it, but could not truly approach or clearly see the black shadow.

One was in the mirror, the other in reality.

In front of the black shadow was a square several tens of kilometers wide and long, paved with grayish-white stones, with towering pillars of black, blood-red, and gray-white supporting an invisible barrier, preventing the blood-red sea from invading.

Lumian found himself standing on this square, and before him was a full-length mirror made of pure silver mixed with other metals, its ornate frame in a classic style.

Seeing this mirror, Lumian's mind suddenly tensed.

Isn't this the same mirror from the Blue Avenger's treasure vault, the one concealing the mirrored Alista Tudor?

Why is there also one here?

Or rather, does the one in the Blue Avenger's treasure vault lead to this one?

Are they the results of Alista Tudor's various crazy experiments as the Blood Emperor?

Lumian instinctively wanted to move away from the silver full-length mirror, to avoid having his own image reflected in it, but a figure trapped within the mirror had already become visible on its surface.

The figure was clad in blood-stained black armor, with flowing hair faintly glowing with a reddish light. His facial features were sharp, as if carved by a knife, His lips tightly pursed, exuding a resolute and unyielding aura. His blue eyes were filled with cruelty and madness.

The next moment, this mirror-bound figure extended His armored right hand through the cold, hard mirror surface.

He stepped out of the full-length mirror, as if completely unconcerned about Lumian seizing the opportunity to attack.

-x-X-x-

The mirrored Blood Emperor? Lumian was not unfamiliar with the figure before him.

He did not seize the opportunity to attack, not because he did not want to, but because he was stunned for a moment by the assault of the mad psyche, before breaking free.

The burning heat and stinging pain in his right palm became more pronounced, as if wanting to collaborate, to fuse the current vessel with the version of himself in the mirror.

The mirrored Alista Tudor stood nearly 3 meters tall, gripping a just-formed gigantic flaming sword.

The giant sword burned with a bluish-purple hue.

The blood-stained black-armored mirror Alista, with eyes filled with madness and cruelty, looked at the bloodsoaked Lumian and said in an icy voice, "Where is your sword?"

As soon as the words left His mouth, He took a stride forward to stand before Lumian, raising the bluish- purple flaming sword high and bringing it down towards his target.

Lumian finally recovered from his previous shock, and instantly drew the iron-black Sword of Courage, blocking the strike from above!

Clang!

Amidst the clash of metal, streams of bluish-purple flames scattered, and Lumian was knocked flying, his body set alight.

Crack. He proactively used Mirror Substitution, escaping the flames of the mirrored Alista.

The mirrored Alista, dragging the flaming sword, evaluated dispassionately, "Too weak!"

As He spoke, the city-sized square was already engulfed in flames, with transparent, almost invisible spider web-like strands being revealed, all burning violently, no longer able to restrict or affect the mirrored Alista.

The mystical pathogens Lumian had secretly spread earlier were also quickly dissipating in the intense heat and burning, with only the heat-resistant ones still barely hanging on.

Facing this fiery hell, Lumian actually created a wall of crystalline, transparent frost around himself.

Sizzling, these frost walls were immediately vaporized under the assault of the bluish-purple flames and terrifying heat, turning into white mist.

The white mist obscured Lumian's figure, making him disappear from the mirrored Alista's sight.

Behind the mirrored Blood Emperor, Lumian's figure rapidly took shape, his clear blue eyes deepening slightly, reflecting the blood-stained black-armored figure.

He wanted to curse the opponent!

This was one of the few effective ways he currently had to harm the other.

Just then, thick fog rose up, immediately shrouding the mirrored Alista Tudor, preventing Lumian's spiritual perception from extending beyond ten meters, making it difficult to lock onto the target.

True Fog of War!

Within the fog enveloping the entire fiery hell, Lumian threw out a mirror, which transformed into his double and gained projection power.

Lumian's main body then concealed its form.

Suddenly, Alista's scornful voice sounded in Lumian's ear. "Flashy, but useless!"

Accompanied by this remark, thunderous explosions took over the square.

Indiscriminate, large-scale explosions.

The Fog of War thinned as a result, Lumian's mirrored projection shattered, and even his main body had to use Mirror Substitution repeatedly to endure the aftermath of the explosions.

The entire square's ground was left in ruins, only the ornate silver full-length mirror remaining intact.

As Lumian stabilized himself, he saw the mirrored Blood Emperor rushing towards him with the force of o mountain, slashing down with the bluish-purple flaming sword.

A sudden gray-white surge burst forth from Lumian, wherever it passed, the flames were frozen and turned to stone.

As the overwhelming gray-white wave approached the mirrored Alista's figure, this Blood Emperor with only remnants of power was set ablaze, decomposing into streams of bluish-purple flames.

These flames flew out to the sides and upwards, avoiding Lumian's Petrification power.

They quickly converged behind Lumian, reforming the nearly 3-meter tall Alista Tudor, with blood-red hair.

Crack. With a sweeping motion of the flaming sword, Lumian's body shattered and dissolved into mirrors once more.

This time, he used Teleportation in conjunction.

His destination was behind the silver full-length mirror.

He swung his Sword of Courage ablaze with scorching blue-tinged flames towards the mirror.

He felt this full-length mirror and the mirrored Alista Tudor were closely connected, and destroying it might prevent the powerful enemy from maintaining His form.

The earlier large-scale explosion, where the mirrored Alista deliberately controlled the direction and provided necessary protection, not allowing this silver full-length mirror to be damaged, was evidence of this.

Even if I can't beat you, can't I at least beat this mirror?

In Lumian's eyes, the mirrored Blood Emperor transformed into a bluish-purple flaming spear, rapidly thrusting towards him.

He did not retreat, still letting the Sword of Courage descend.

Bang!

The silver full-length mirror suffered a tremendous explosion, without even a cracking sound, it completely disintegrated, its shards scattered outwards.

At the same time, the bluish-purple flaming spear pierced through Lumian's body, instantly igniting him, trying to burn him to ashes.

The flaming spear fell behind Lumian, reforming into the mirrored Alista Tudor.

His sharp-featured face bore unconcealed mockery, His figure not showing any instability or illusion from the destruction of the silver full-length mirror.

It was an intentionally displayed weakness-a trap!

…

On the Fog Sea, in the starlight-condensed treasure vault on the Blue Avenger, the silver full-length mirror at the end of the corridor suddenly split open without a sound, cracks forming across its surface.

Splash!

Shattered glass slid downwards.

On the deck of the Blue Avenger, Mr. Hanged Man and the few sailors felt the ship suddenly rocking violently, as if caught in a raging storm.

High in the sky, the fog rapidly spread, clouds piling up, a downpour imminent.

…

Within a square shielded from thick blood water.

From a black "coin bag", a mirror flew up, and Lumian leapt out, retrieving the Sword of Courage and the Traveler's Bag specially made by Mr. Fool.

He showed no retreat or fear, power surging from the dark pinhole in his palm.

His strikingly handsome face suddenly took on a more heroic, masculine air, his chest slightly narrower, his body a bit taller.

He was utilizing the power of the War Bishop obtained through the boon.

Of course, a Demoness of Unaging combined with War Bishop still should not be a match for the mirrored Alista Tudor-even if the latter did not use much of His Weather Warlock abilities, He still displayed overwhelming superiority.

Lumian's true purpose was not the War Bishop itself, he wanted to leverage the unique origin of this power.

It originated from the boon of the corpse wax candle ritual's target, from the depths of the well, most likely related to the massive black shadow coiled near the square, in reality.

In this case, Lumian was effectively the bestowed of the other party, and the current battlefield was within the mirror world at the bottom of the well.

In other words, Lumian might be able to invoke Angelic-level powers by appealing to this special environment.

Furthermore, with the War Bishop boon, he was now truly half-male, half-female, yin nurturing yang, yang containing yin, extremely close to higher powers.

Seeing this, the mirrored Alista Tudor did not frown, the madness in His blue eyes intensifying, seemingly wanting to use actual battle to tell Lumian this was meaningless.

Failure will be your destined end!

At this moment, a dark shadow from the coiled black mass expanded outwards.

It penetrated the invisible barrier, surging behind the mirror Blood Emperor.

This dark, illusory, and transparent shadow seemed to lead to an unknown world.

Lumian's thoughts suddenly became hazy, as if hearing layer upon layer of faint, ethereal voices.

He then saw the mirrored Alista put away the bluish-purple flaming sword, scornfully glancing at him.

This blood-soaked black-armored Mirror Person harrumphed, no longer attacking, turning and walking into the dark shadow, disappearing from Lumian's sight.

That's it? Lumian paused.

Of course, he did not think the mirrored Alista Tudor gave up because he feared the aid Lumian had invoked -it was more likely someone had dissuaded Him.

Who could dissuade the half-crazed mirrored Blood Emperor? As Lumian pondered, he felt his mind beginning to grow weary, his consciousness significantly weakened.

The ritual contract was nearing its end.

Lumian looked around, choosing to enter Cogitation, proactively disconnecting from the contract state.

In Bansy Harbor, within the ruins of the telegraph office.

Lumian opened his eyes, checking his condition.

The power of the War Bishop was receding.

"What happened?" Franca in the distance asked curiously.

Lumian had actually used the War Bishop power from the boon during the ritual!

Lumian was about to respond, but suddenly had a premonition, turning his gaze towards the western sky.

…

On the Fog Sea, aboard the Blue Avenger.

Inside the violently shaking, nearly shattering ship, a deep purple, hurricane-like light suddenly surged.

It rapidly headed eastward.

This is... Seeing this, Mr. Hanged Man furrowed his brow.

…

On a sunny coastline.

Unarmored, simply wearing a shirt and pants, now more human-like, Red Angel Medici comfortably lay in a beach chair, legs crossed, casually watching the deep purple light fly overhead.

Then, He smiled at Albus beside Him, saying, "Why didn't I attack Lumian Lee in the dream city?

"Of course, it's because I'm waiting for him to trigger all the problems left behind by that crazy Tudor.

"The path to be taken, someone must help us take it: the traps to be stepped on, someone must help us step on them."

-x-X-x-

In St. Millom of the Feysac Empire, on the coast of Midseashire, Snarner Einhorn, with His flamboyant golden earrings and deep red hair, was originally toying with some jewelry when He suddenly raised His head and looked towards the southern sky.

He was first surprised, then a look of confusion crossed His face, and He remained in the room, doing nothing.

Far in the distance, in the coastal regions of the Feynapotter Kingdom, the deep purple light was flying faster and faster, already having escaped the encompassing hurricane, leaving behind horrifying rumbles.

…

In a certain location in the Intis Republic, the grizzled, blue-uniformed leader of the Iron and Blood Cross Order, Diest, with His neatly combed deep red hair, black iron eyes, and prominent wrinkles, withdrew His gaze from a brass chess set and looked up towards the sky.

He almost instinctively transformed into a deep purple Iridescent rainbow and shot up, but ultimately controlled Himself.

He murmured softly, "The disturbance is so great, the deities must all be watching...

"Will the Angels of the orthodox Churches try to seize it?"

Under the observation of numerous gazes, the deep purple light crossed over the Feynapotter Kingdom.

Curiously, no one came to stop it, nor did anyone attempt to obtain it.

…

In Bansy Harbor, when Lumian turned his gaze westward, Franca and Jenna followed his line of sight, but saw nothing.

"What are you looking at?" Franca asked puzzledly.

Lumian mused aloud, "I feel that the full-length mirror in the Blue Avenger's treasury has shattered, and the Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic hidden behind it is now rapidly crossing the Northern Continent, flying from the Fog Sea towards me."

Wh-Jenna was a bit stunned to hear this.

Franca also exclaimed in amazement, "Such a thing can happen?

"A classic trope where a treasured item comes to seek you out on its own..."

They had come to Bansy to seek clues about the remaining Weather Warlock Beyonder characterístic, and now one such Beyonder characteristic was crossing thousands of miles to come to them?

Lumian estimated the time and said calmly, "We'll need to start with my recent secret deed ritual experience."

Franca's eyes lit up, full of interest in the story Lumian was about to tell.

Jenna was the same, but considered things more carefully. She reminded Lumian, "Aren't you going to prepare? What if that Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic isn't coming to join you, but to kill you?

"You can recount your previous experiences and the reasons behind things after everything is over. There's no need to waste time now."

We should hurry up and make the necessary preparations, like appealing to Mr. Fool to watch over us, or summoning a messenger from Madam Magician and promising to exchange the Post-Apocalyptic Scripture for one round of assistance...

In any case, they needed to prepare for a potential battle with the item manifested by the Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic.

Smiling. Lumian replied. "No need to rush, it may be flying fast, but it will still take just over an hour to reach here."

Shaking his head, Lumian continued, "Can't Teleport. can't use Mirror Traversal either, just so troublesome and slow-moving."

Jenna was momentarily at a loss for words.

Franca then raised another question, "Won't it get intercepted halfway?"

"If the orthodox Churches take it, we can negotiate later, and can use the Post-Apocalyptic Scripture to make a trade. After all, this thing speaks in riddles and is not very useful, just a hassle. But if it's the evil god worshipers trying to ambush it midway, with such a commotion, wouldn't they just be exposing themselves?" Lumian laughed.

Although the Post-Apocalyptic Scripture was quite useful for responding to believers, there were few wishes it couldn't fulfill through bestowing good fortune, but as a Fate Appropriator, Lumian could also handle such matters himself, it would just be more troublesome and less effective.

"That's true..." Franca thought seriously for a moment, then jokingly suggested, "Why don't you go out to welcome that Beyonder characteristic? It's come all this way, you should show it how much you value it, be enthusiastic!"

"We'll see." Lumian wasn't actually sure what that Beyonder characteristic or the Grade 0 Sealed Artifact wanted to do, so it was better to just wait in Bansy Harbor.

This place had been devastated by the Church of Storms with no human habitation left, only the occasional adventurer or pirate coming to explore and uncover treasures others had missed.

And earlier today, Lumian had confirmed that aside from the three of them, only wild animals remained on this island.

This was very suitable for demigods to battle, without worrying about accidentally killing anyone.

Franca glanced around, gaining a general understanding of Lumian's intentions.

Jenna then said, "Still, do the preparations first, then tell us about your secret deed experience, in case some unexpected thing happens midway, "Who knows, maybe some high-ranking being will kindly help shorten the distance for that Beyonder characteristic, letting it arrive early."

Lumian accepted Jenna's suggestion, praying or summoning messengers, going through a round of preparations.

Then he began recounting from when his consciousness manifested in that "Eastern" city's telegraph office, up to the point where the mirrored Alista Tudor, despite having a clear advantage and filled with fighting spirit, voluntarily withdrew into the darkness and disappeared.

Before Franca and Jenna could respond, Lumian asked curiously and puzzledly, "What did that person who also infiltrated the wooden tower mean when they muttered those words after seeing me?"

He then mimicked the other party's pronunciation.

Franca pondered for a moment, then suddenly laughed.

"He was cursing 'bad luck'.

"Meaning, it's bad luck to run into you."

"Did I interfere with his actions?" Lumian mused aloud, "Or had he been previously deceived by a Beyonder from the Demoness pathway? In the West Continent, Demonesses don't have a very good reputation?"

"You think Demonesses have a good reputation in the Northern and Southern Continents too?" Franca said, amused. "I think he's really been scammed by a Demoness before, otherwise a normal person wouldn't immediately curse 'bad luck' just from seeing your face; he's got PTSD."

Jenna chuckled as well, looking at Lumian. "Judging from this, that Weather Warlock Beyonder characteristic coming may not necessarily be a good thing, I can already smell the scent of conspiracy."

"Kill you? It's neither an ambush nor a hidden environment, so it's almost impossible to kill Mr. Fool's Saint unless someone holds back Mr. Fool. However, that's unless the evil gods have completed Their invasion and the apocalypse has come early. Otherwise, anyone able to stop Mr. Fool wouldn't have any underlying motivation..." Pondering for a few seconds, Franca looked at Lumian and continued. "Actively becoming your potion ingredient, letting you consume it to advance, then linking with the residual Blood Emperor aura in you to resurrect and occupy your body? Even for a plot that straightforward, normal people should be able to think of it, right?"

"Yes." Lumian nodded. "I can also ask Mr. Fool to help shatter the characteristic, remove the remnant Blood Emperor psyche. Even if I can't completely purge it, at least Alista Tudor won't be able to resurrect inside me."

"Then this is..." Franca and Jenna exchanged a puzzled glance.

Lumian suddenly smiled. "This should be an open stratagem.

"Alista Tudor wants me to become an Angel.

"Then the resurrection preparations He left behind will truly manifest.

"Red Angel Medici previously said He would give me a chance, but it's likely not because I was too weak for Him to bother with at the time, nor out of deep empathy for my experiences-that may be a factor, but not the main reason.

"He too is waiting for me to ascend to Sequence 2."

Jenna's brow furrowed slightly. "So you mean Alista Tudor's current goal is to help you advance to angelhood, and it doesn't matter whether you choose to become a Weather Warlock or a Demoness of Catastrophe, using that Beyonder characteristic or something else, the end result will be the same?"

"Probably." Lumian nodded, with a wry smile. "That's why the mirrored Alista Tudor was able to restrain His madness and killing intent."

Franca and Jenna fell silent, not knowing what to say.

After all, they couldn't really advise Lumian not to ascend to angelhood, right?

Lifting his chin slightly, Lumian chuckled nonchalantly. "What's meant to come will come. I also want to see what awaits me, hopefully it won't disappoint."

Hearing this, Franca sighed. "Chaos, chaos, with the apocalypse looming, a bit of chaos is good, there's a chance to win amidst the chaos."

An hour passed quickly, and the weakened and fatigued Lumian from the secret deed ritual had fully recovered.

Suddenly, a deep purple light shot across the western sky. As it drew nearer, it grew larger and larger, eventually becoming clearly visible to Lumian, Franca. and Jenna.

It was a violently burning mass of deep purple flames, with flashes of pure blue at its core.

Interwoven within the flames were jet-black metal rods, forming a massive skeletal frame.

The deep purple-blue flames flowed along the metal bones, trailing long feathers, giving the whole the appearance of a colossal bird with a wingspan spanning dozens of meters. The intensely burning deep purple-blue giant bird had not even fully approached Bansy Harbor, but the weeds, trees at the edges of the ruins, and remaining walls all spontaneously ignited.

Cracking sounds rang out as Bansy was enveloped in flames.

At the same time, a disdainful yet condescending booming voice reverberated in Lumian's ear: "Dare you face me?"

It was spoken in ancient Hermes.

Lumian suddenly gained an epiphany-there were several layers of meaning to this "facing":

Dare you withstand my attack alone and endure?

Dare you ascend to Weather Warlock using the Beyonder characteristic I extracted?

Do you have the courage and bravery for this?

His mind made up. Lumian turned to Franca and Jenna. "You two should leave this area."

Franca and Jenna exchanged a glance, not saying much.

In a critical moment, they unhesitatingly believed in Lumian's judgment and choice.

Franca's eyes immediately reflected layers of darkness, then she grabbed Jenna's hand and departed Bansy Harbor through the mirror world.

Lumian shifted his gaze back, looking up at the purple-flamed giant bird blotting out the sky, and reached into the Traveler's Bag, withdrawing the parchment- bound Post-Apocalyptic Scripture.